by Sarah Veitch
The trainee Master smiled what Ruth hoped was a forgiving smile. 'Such humility deserves a little reward,' he said. He knelt between her legs and lowered his middle fingers until one was inside her, the other just touching the flesh above her clitoris. 'There you go, sweetheart. Just rub against my hand like a bitch on heat.'
'Don't you want to...?' Ruth muttered, trying to move her thighs further apart to indicate her empty sex tunnel.
'No, the rules state that only your husband can make love to you,' Justus Lederwaren replied.
He removed his hand from her sex lips and Ruth whimpered at the loss of contact. 'But it's a month till Franklin returns for a visit,' she said.
'Exactly. Your crack will be begging for it really sweetly,' the trainee Master said impassively. 'You'll appreciate even the slightest thrust.' He put his fingers close to her bud. 'Well, what's it to be, dearest? A little light fingering's all that's available - will you frig yourself against my fingers like a little animal or spend the day entirely without release?'
Beyond feeling proud, Ruth lifted her pubis the little she could and used his digits to stimulate her dripping furrow. Her pinkish fronds had been swelling from the moment he told her to remove her panties, and now near-ecstasy thrilled through the curve between her thighs.
'Your butt may dance away from the belt, but your clit is doing the cha-cha,' the man said crudely. Ruth whimpered with increasing need and squirmed some more. 'Pity we don't have a mirror in this booth,' the man continued. 'I'd really like you to see your straining thighs and bright red backside.'
Ruth cried out into the booth as her orgasm began. Justus kept his hand immobile whilst she rubbed frenziedly against it. Ruth's sex felt like it was on fire by the time she pulled her mons tenderly away.
'Please hold me,' she whispered. 'Oh please, please, please, sir.' She felt gratified and close to being loved when he freed her ankles and obliged.
For a few moments he sat on the bench and cradled her near-nakedness, Ruth kneeling up to keep the plastic bench away from her well-thrashed buttocks. At last he kissed her hair then pushed her away. 'Time we continued our sight-seeing trip.'
Ruth nodded and got onto the floor, stretching one languorous arm out towards her chinos. She smiled at the man who'd given her such pleasure. 'Shall I get dressed?'
'Not in those, you won't,' her trainee Master replied.
His voice tone had gone firm again and Ruth looked up at him in confusion. 'I don't understand.'
'It's simple. You're supposed to be learning how to be a faithful wife, yet a moment ago you beseeched me to fuck you. If you're going to behave like a tart then we'll have to dress you as one.'
'I'm not a tart,' Ruth said, stung.
'You're not, deep down, but your behaviour sends out mixed signals. You're thoughtless and impetuous,' Justus Lederwaren explained. He walked over and tilted her head so that she was looking up into his intelligent hazel eyes. 'You foolish little girl, you'll have to learn more self-disciplined ways.'
'I could learn whilst wearing my chinos,' Ruth chipped in, fingering her favourite trousers and gazing hopefully at her trainee Master.
'You'll learn much better with an exposed sore rump,' the Dutchman said.
He picked up her chinos and pants, crumpled them into a ball then walked towards the door holding both garments.
'Leave your blouse tied up like that,' he said. 'I'll be back in a moment. Watch the video and be glad that it isn't you up there.'
The booth door closed. Ruth turned her post-orgasmic attention to the screen. Her climax had been so intense that concentration was now difficult. She half registered a scarlet-arsed female convict writhing over a woman prison warder's knee. God, it must be awful to have your panties pulled down by another woman. That way you couldn't cocktease...
As she watched the dominatrix sort her submissive out, Justus Lederwaren returned with a bowl of warm water, a sponge and a small hand towel. He also held a large black carrier bag which she suspected contained her jacket, chinos and pants.
'Thought you'd appreciate a clean up,' he said genially, 'before I show you the further wonders of Amsterdam.'
Silently chiding herself for her self consciousness, the blushing twenty-two year old brought the dripping sponge to her equally dripping folds and sponged away the secretions from the rim around her entrance. Then she dabbed herself dry with the towel, washed her hands and stood up.
'Say hello to your new outfit,' Justus Lederwaren chimed. From the depths of the bag he produced an A-line black lacy miniskirt, glossy black shoes and a pair of charcoal hold-ups. 'They're all in your size. I checked. Put them on.'
'But these are sex shop clothes. They're for wearing in private,' Ruth muttered, staring at him in amazement.
'Well, you offered your body to me a few moments ago, so you're obviously not a private person,' the Correction House worker replied.
He held out the skirt. Ruth reached out and took the soft small scrap and let it run through her fingers. After a moment's hesitation, she stepped into it and pulled it up, fastening it at the back. The hem ended near the tops of her thighs, but was wide at the end so rarely touched them. Ruth stepped forward and could feel the shifting air currents against her bum.
'Now for the hold-ups,' Justus Lederwaren said. Wordlessly Ruth accepted the suspenderless stockings. She eased them up her legs slowly. They felt like silk. 'And, finally, the shoes,' her trainee Master continued. He set them on the carpet. Admiring their sleek lines, Ruth pushed her silk-clad feet into them and stepped forward then realised she still wasn't wearing any pants.
'Can I have my briefs back?' she asked softly, figuring that they were with her other clothes in the carrier bag.
'No, you offered someone other than your husband your sex, so now you can show the world your sore bare bottom,' Justus Lederwaren replied.
Ruth swayed on her heels. 'But I'll get done for indecency in a public place,' she protested.
'Depends on how breezy it is outside and how carefully you walk,' the Dutchman said. He put his head to one side in what Ruth now knew was a characteristic gesture. 'You've got both hands free so you can always hold down your skirt.'
'I'll look odd,' Ruth gasped out.
'Well, you've been acting odd. It seems fitting.'
'I hate you,' she added petulantly.
'Really? A few moments ago you were begging for my cock right up you as you wriggled against my hand.'
Ruth flushed anew and found herself lost for words. Justus Lederwaren opened the door of the booth and she walked reluctantly in front of him into the main section of the sex shop. There was a man looking through the Watersports shelf.
'I've never understood how a man can enjoy pissing on women,' Ruth muttered to Justus Lederwaren.
'Hey, you're the one whose pussy wets itself when your arse is leathered,' the Correction House worker said in an exaggeratedly loud voice.
The man turned and stared at them both, his mouth agape. Ruth cringed inside and out, then walked around the displays of Group Sex videos. She'd never understood that particular fantasy either, but she didn't intend to say.
'Everything all right for you, was it?' the shop owner asked.
'Nice and toasty,' Justus Lederwaren replied, patting Ruth on her all too visible backside.
The two men grinned at each other as if sharing a joke. Ruth stared at the plastic phalluses in the nearby glass case as if her life depended on it, then turned to look at the vibrator shelf.
'Sweetheart, have a flick through the whipping videos whilst I talk to the man,' the Correction House worker ordered.
Ruth followed his pointing finger. If she did what she was told she'd have her back facing all three men, and she suspected that they'd be able to see a centimetre or two of her reddened lower cheeks beneath her skirt.
'Don't want to,' she muttered, crossing one high-heeled leg behind the other and staring at the ground.
'She's shy,' Justus Lederwaren explained, 'and new to
strict training.' He touched the belt around his waist with obvious inference. 'Ruth, would you rather watch another video inside the booth?'
'Christ, no,' Ruth knew that she'd be watching it with her ankles tied to the coat hook above her head. She knew that the sound affects would come from her mouth as he thrashed her already-tenderised bare bottom. 'I'll look at the... at the videos,' she said. She walked with tiny movements across the room, trying to lean back so that her short skirt covered the source of her shame, then she tried to remain tilted in that position when she reached the required shelves.
Womanly bared bums flinched beneath leather crops and under braided long riding whips. Female faces showed that strange blank mix of humiliation and desire. Ruth felt the fast-becoming-familiar pull at her belly, and wondered why the images excited her this way. Maybe she was just missing a man's caresses? It was ages until Franklin's first conjugal visit was due and her neglected quim ached...
Three sex-free weeks later Ruth was window-shopping on a sunlit Amsterdam street when someone gently but firmly pulled her into a doorway. 'Stephen!' she muttered in pleased amazement, staring at her debonair British lover. If she hadn't committed adultery with him and been found out, she wouldn't be here now.
'We can't...' she started, but despite her best intentions, she thrilled as his strong appreciative hands slid round her waist.
'I had a private detective eventually trace your flight here but then the trail went cold,' he said. He held her very tight and Ruth could feel her nipples hardening, her inner core expanding. God, it had been a while. 'I've been walking the streets here for a week,' he continued avidly. 'And showing your photo in bars.'
'I'm not supposed to...' Ruth cut in, then realised that she couldn't bear to tell him about the Correction House, about the disgraceful unveilings. 'I'm staying with Franklin's friends,' she lied. 'So we'll have to meet secretly,' she continued in a stronger voice.
'I can live with that,' her lover said and ran his hands down her haunches as if he was assessing a show horse. 'You shan't escape from my tongue and hands again.'
I don't want to escape. I just won't get found out, Ruth told herself as she slid her hand into Stephen's and let herself be led to his luxurious hotel. I'll only see him occasionally and I'll be discreet.
A grim-faced correction worker watched the couple from across the road. Did Ruth really think that she was allowed out to shop unchaperoned? He sat in a cafe for two hours until she emerged again then followed her back to the corrective house.
After her evening meal that night, Ruth was summoned before the house's formidable Disciplinary Committee. Six trainee Masters and the establishment's owner were sitting behind a magisterial table. At the end was a tall stern woman that Ruth didn't recognise.
This time there was no point in making excuses. 'What are you going to do to me?' she asked, her hands creeping backwards to protect her vulnerable extremities.
'I'd like to tether you to the trestle for a thorough paddling,' Karel Kromhout answered. 'Then arch you over the punishment rack to taste my riding crop on the bare.'
'And how would you like to re-educate her, Justus?' the owner asked softly.
'She's most shamed by the prospect of being thrashed by another woman,' Justus said evenly. 'Which is why I've invited Sadie, my rigorous friend.'
Ruth bolted for the door, but the tall woman raced after her and held her fast. 'Sweetheart, I hear that you want to preserve your marriage. We won't tell your husband of your latest adultery if you accept a thorough tanning from me.'
'Is there no other way?' Ruth stalled.
'No - take it or leave it.'
What choice did she have? She didn't want to lose the luxurious way of life she enjoyed in Britain. She didn't want to lose her husband and her home and have to start all over again. Ruth nodded her head, feeling very apprehensive but resigned to her punishment. 'Okay just get it over with.'
'If only - it takes a long time to thrash out persistent adultery,' the Amazonian woman said, flexing her large right palm.
Karel Kromhout laughed hoarsely. 'Start with the cane, Sadie, and give her more stripes than a zebra. It gets quick results.'
Sadie smiled mirthlessly - but Ruth had nothing to smile about as she felt the older woman yanking down her jeans and protective panties. 'Not yet, Karel, her flesh is too soft to immediately bear the rattan. It would slice her tender globes and it's one of my rules to never break the skin. No, I'll spank her for a good half hour first to prepare the skin before applying the rod.' To Ruth's chagrin, she hoisted her, bare bummed, over her shoulder. 'Right, love, lets get you to the Punishment Chamber so that Auntie Sadie can sort you out.'
She'd survived being spanked by Karel Kromhout, and even thrashed by Justus Lederwaren, so surely being finger-whipped by a woman wouldn't hurt as much, Ruth told herself as she was carried into the main chastisement area. Sadie sat down in an armless chair, still holding Ruth tight. 'Stretch out your arms and legs, dear,' she said. Ruth did so. Sadie beckoned to one of the others who had clearly followed behind to see the discipline session unfold. 'Can you fasten her wrists and ankles to the rings in the floor?'
When Ruth was firmly held in place across the stronger woman's lap, Sadie issued another instruction. 'Justus, can you bring me a leather spanking glove with a hardened palm?'
Ruth's main view was of the carpet, but she caught a quick glimpse of the heavy black glove as it was carried past her. 'Auntie Sadie's going to make little Ruth very sorry,' the older woman said.
'I'm already repentant,' Ruth mumbled awkwardly.
'You'll be kissing the glove and begging for forgiveness by the time I've finished with you,' came the contemptuous reply.
The spanking which followed felt more like a wood-based paddling. Each slap of the heavier woman's hand sent the younger girl's buttocks flattening inwards, only to bounce back again a redder shade. Ruth couldn't see her own anguished movements - but she could well imagine them. To make matters worse, Sadie kept up a relentlessly disparaging commentary. 'Oh, your tender young buttock didn't like that. Ouch, nor did its neighbour. Oh, that little bum hole is puckering up at the thought of what's going to happen next.'
Eventually she stopped the relentless whacks and took off the glove and caressed Ruth's flaming spheres for long cringeworthy moments. 'Right, angel, let's get you over the whipping stool so that your bum's nicely presented for the rod.'
'I've never been caned before,' Ruth whispered as the woman marched her towards the slanted tall stool.
'It'll make you squirm like you're being stung. And you'll certainly sing for your supper,' the dominatrix said.
Again Justus helped to position Ruth in place, whilst Karel Kromhout and the other trainee Masters watched lasciviously from the sidelines. 'Put a cushion under her tummy to raise her to the maximum,' Sadie said.
'Gee, thanks,' Ruth muttered.
'You can thank me in a moment. First, ask nicely for stroke one,' Sadie said.
'Please give me stroke one,' Ruth muttered shamefacedly into the middle distance.
The cane flashed against her extremities and she yelled loudly, her arse on fire.
'That was an extra stroke for not trying hard enough. You're still due the full twelve,' her punisher said.
'What do you want me to say?' Ruth muttered, squeezing her bum cheeks hard in a futile bid to shake off the anguish.
'Say something like "Please warm my naughty cheeks till I absolutely can't bear it." But don't use these exact words. Use your imagination,' Sadie said.
'Please birch my bottom till it trembles,' Ruth whispered then was told to repeat it loudly for the benefit of the listening crowd.
Thereafter, the first official stroke emblazoned its way across her prepared flesh and she wailed long and hard in protest. Then she looked for the words to ask for stroke two. 'I deserve to flinch under the rod again, Mistress.'
'Yes, you do,' Sadie agreed, standing back and lining up the hellish rattan. This stroke went
lower than the first and livened the most sensitive part of a female posterior, where it curves under to meet the thighs.
Ruth squealed and squirmed against the cruelly-positioned cushion and promised loudly that she'd never cheat on her husband again.
'We're just going to talk about the shade of your arse for the next hour,' the cane-wielding woman warned. 'Now how much hotter do you think it's going to be?'
'Very hot,' Ruth whispered nervously, skulking about in situ.
'Practically sizzling,' Sadie agreed.
She swished the rattan across Ruth's tender divide so that Ruth gave a prolonged groan and arched her haunches the little she could before flattening her belly back against the whipping stool. She could tell by her movements that she must look like the back end of a weakly bucking horse.
'Such a pretty picture,' the dominatrix said. 'You'd almost think that arse was trying to escape from me. Doesn't it realise that it has to stay?' She caned Ruth again then snapped 'Answer, girl.'
'Yes, Miss.' Ruth sought out further humiliating words. 'I have to stay to taste the cane till it gives me the sorest bottom. I have to learn humility,' she said.
The cane swished down and down and down. By the twelfth, Ruth was reduced to helpless sobbing. 'I'll never commit adultery again,' she whispered. 'I'll be the perfect wife.'
Justus Lederwaren approached her and kissed the top of her head. 'Dear Ruth, if only. You haven't been progressing at all well so Sadie's going to train you at her own Chamber in the annexe for a while.'
'You mean I'll be alone with her? Please, anything but that,' Ruth whispered as the other trainee Masters lifted her from the whipping stool. 'She's so very strict.'
'Exactly. She'll soon leather you into tip top shape,' Karel Kromhout cut in.
As Ruth snivelled on the ground, Sadie approached her and buckled a dog collar around her neck. 'Let's take you for walkies.'
'Have these with my compliments to help you control her.' Karel Kromhout fastened spreader bars to Ruth's wrists and ankles so that she couldn't crawl too fast.
