free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive

"It does," her friend confirmed, emphatically.
"And then you got it again?"
"Yes, my own stupid fault," Daphne admitted, "I didn`t look at the notices properly. Actually, they`ve altered the layout since I was last here, and the short stay spaces are at the other end. I had my mind on other things, principally the sting in my tail, and the sore seat I was sitting on, and the thought of meeting you again soon, and just didn`t spot the change. Drove blithely into the Airport Manager`s personal slot. Might have got away with just a warning if it had been any one else, though remission is a word almost unknown round these parts, but the Airport Manager! Next thing to God round here and I had to bend and bare for six crackers. Gordon can hurt, but he usually contents himself with a school type cane, except for serious offences. Here all offences are serious and it`s a penal rod every time."
She screwed up her face at the memory.
"Nasty vindictive bitch that Parking Officer, and a local tennis champ as well. My bare bottom against her penal rod; definitely no contest."
"Always on the bare?"
"Always," Daphne confirmed, "knickers down and bottom up. At least they give you a desk to bend over in there; it helps, but even so she claimed I moved and gave me another for luck."
"Thinking of knickers," Eve said, this talk of seemingly endless cuts on bare female bottoms beginning to raise ambiguous feelings in her belly and her feminist soul, best diverted into some other topic, "what on earth are those monstrosities you`re wearing? I used to look up to you as the dictator of taste, from your shoes to your smile. Besides," Eve added with a giggle, "we always used to quote the old adage about what would happen if you had an accident while out or, better still, were surprised by the neighbourhood rapist."
"I was rather hoping you wouldn`t remind me of those," Daphne sighed, "I`m not too happy about them myself. apart from the humiliation of wearing such gross objects, I do still take a pride in my undies. Even so, I can assure you, I`m not looking forward to handing them back. I was sent them this morning by the Bridge Club Committee, and have to return them at the meeting tomorrow evening."
"Oh, that`s not too bad them," Eve said, with relief. "Beastly for you to have to wear such horrid pants, but only until tomorrow. Is that what you meant by `walking a pair`?"
"Got it in one, girl," Daphne replied, "but there`s more to it than just wearing them. It goes like this. If you do something that offends one of the women`s groups, the tennis club, the swimming club or, in my case, the bridge club, the committee may decide to "send you a pair`, and have you `walk` them until the next committee meeting, or whenever. These arrived this morning, with a Bridge Committee card attached `7.30 tomorrow` written on it."
"So, tomorrow I have to report to the Bridge Club committee and lower these disgusting drawers and take another thrashing on my poor sore bottom. Not funny since there will already be fourteen welts on it. That is if Gordon doesn`t decide on a few more liveners before then, or decides I`ve offended in some way," she added glumly, "He`s not above punishing me himself for getting into this scrape, but I`m hoping he`ll be kind and not insist this once. After all, he did give me my `liveners` on the basis that I didn`t seem to be likely to get anything else in the near future. Bad forecast that."

"You poor thing," Eve sympathised then, overcome with feminine curiosity, "how many?"
"That`s the worst of it," her friend answered with a bitter laugh, "I expect you saw those scarlet threads. One thread, six strokes; two, a dozen. That makes twenty eight in two days, always assuming I don`t collect any more along the way, and that I manage to stay down at the club. Not easy with Angela on the end of the rod, and she`s bound to be. She`d never turn up a chance to whip my arse. Mind you," she added, "I`d do the same for her."
"Are you such sworn enemies then?" Eve said, surprised.
"Enemies! Oh no, we`re the best of friends. I can see you`ve a lot to learn about our way of life during your stay."
"It would seem so," Eve replied dryly, "it all seems over the top, and more like torture than discipline, to me."
"You poor thing," Daphne replied, "you did rather walk into it at the deep end didn`t you. Me with my sorry arse cut to ribbons, and more promised for tomorrow. Don`t worry. It`s not all like that. You just caught me on a bad day, I`m afraid. Usually I reckon on going at least a fortnight, and sometimes three weeks or even a month without getting myself welted to this degree. Well, not counting Gordon`s liveners, of course; he`d never neglect me for that long, but they are by way of love strokes really and, if I`m really raw down there, he has been known to keep them down to two or three at a time. He doesn`t say anything, but he`s just an old softy underneath."
"A softy!" Eve almost squeaked in her indignation. "When he gives you even a couple on a bottom like you`ve got now?"
"Well, you must admit I`m no child; I`ve a fine broad bottom and there`s plenty of room for a few. He`d never do anything to harm me, and I`d have to be pretty bad or foolish to earn a beating that would put me out of action for any time. Normally I can take his canings and come up smiling the day after, especially," she grinned evilly, "if he gives me another kind of seeing to after he`s dealt with my sins. Actually I can usually rely on it, as my naked arse reddening under the rod seems to get his rod equally red, and twice as stiff as that whippy cane. On the whole," she added pensively, "I think the afters are worth the entree. Sore but satisfied might cover it I think."
"You mean you actually enjoy it?"
Eve`s outrage was beginning to surface despite her best efforts to avoid commenting on the customs of the country.
"Well not exactly enjoy it," Daphne cautioned, "but there are compensating factors. Being beaten by the women is the worst. They seem to be able to whip your soul as well as your butt. Ugh. Get right to you where it hurts your pride. They can humiliate you until you squirm and want to sink through the floor. And no real erotic compensation afterwards."
"I thought you liked girls? I seem to remember some pretty hot nights at coll.," Eve reminded her, blushing herself at the memory.
"Oh, I do," Daphne assured her, "But not in the same way as men. Can`t seem to get the same cure for a burning bottom from a girl. Of course the men encourage these inter-women discipline sessions. They know they hurt physically as deep as their own thrashings, and that the effect on the soul goes even deeper. Also, greedy beasts that they are, they can take advantage of our need for a little erotic therapy when we get back."


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