EVE IN EDEN 20 - discipline story



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"Thirteen down and a butchers to come," Lady Jane pronounced with undisguised relish, Eve had long learnt that a dozen in these parts was always a butchers, "you can take a break until the men join us. No!" she cried, as the unfortunate sister-in-law let go of the bar, and made as if to lever herself upright, "Soda water wash for you, before you join the line."
The bent woman sobbed in humiliation as a maid was sent to bring the necessary apparatus; enema bag and bardex nozzle, and a litre of chilled soda water fresh from the refrigerator.
Without ceremony the nozzle was stuffed unlubricated, through the shrinking sphincter, drawing another whine of protest, and then pumped up hard, so that its inner bulb restrained it immovably in the reluctant rectum. The bag was filled, the clip released, and the cold aerated fluid flooded into the unhappy woman`s quivering bowel. At first she merely sobbed in her shame but then she began to groan and gasp. Spasms could be seen working her belly and she shifted her considerable weight from one muscular leg to the other, her buttocks moving like a trotting mare as the cramps began in her aching bowel. All at once she straightened and stood, mouth gaping and hands clasped to her belly, which could be seen working. Incoherent sounds came from her mouth; they finally resolved themselves into cries of, "No more! That`s enough! Oh God, my guts!"
"Hold still," Lady Jane barked, "You`ll take it down to the last drop."
Her aching belly visibly clenching, Pamela had no choice but to obey, until the bag showed slack and empty, its bulging outline transferred to the wretched woman`s straining stomach.
"I`ll just seal you off," her sister-in-law announced, as she detached the trailing tube, "Now you can join the others in the chorus line."
When she was finally allowed to rise she presented a face so twisted with the pain still at its peak in her hinds, and the cramps that wrenched her belly, and so blotted with tears and the runs from her nostrils as to be unrecognisable as the proud and haughty aristocrat who had first bent over the hated bars. She waddled over to join the rest, holding her belly in both hands, the perfect picture of female penitent, and it was there that the gentlemen found her when, two minutes later, they filed into the room. Their timing was not as perfectly coincidental as Eve supposed, aided as it was by a discreet message Lady Jane had sent to her husband via a maid.
As the gentlemen entered the room, glasses in hand, they directed admiring comments at their women folk, lined up, bare and hot of arse, facing the wall, their still raised attire exposing their numerous and varied stripes for inspection by experienced male eyes.
They were regaled by the sight of six hotly decorated female posteriors lined against the wall, from the simple six of the impetuous young motorist, to the blazing butcher`s of Pamela`s writhing rump.
"By George, Dolly!" the Major exclaimed, looking fondly on his bride`s well striped bottom, "Jane has toasted your bottom. Done you to a turn, what. Feeling more inclined to pace like a thoroughbred are we?"
It was clear that Dolly would have preferred to remain silent, but duty, not to speak of a desire to avoid any more of that biting rod on her still-sore arse, dictated she make at least a token reply, and she admitted she was.
Meanwhile Roger was stroking his sister`s brightly burning buns.
"Must say sis," he declared, as she vainly tried to twist out of his touch, "Lady Jane has done you proud, but I`ll enjoy it even more when I can lay them on myself, and watch you jump about."
Fleur made no reply, but bit her lip in mortification.
Meanwhile the Major had moved over to join Sir William and Percy Harringer as they contemplated the once arrogant jut of Pamela`s well-fleshed mounds, now writhing helplessly under the influence of the icy aerated belly filling that cramped her bowels and forced groans from her lips.
"Jove, Percy," he brayed, "You`re a lucky beggar. What a pair. Not that my little woman hasn`t a nice round bottom, but your missus must be a great ride. And you`ll find the saddle even softer tonight, I`ll wager."
Lady Jane addressed her line of hot bottomed penitents.
"At ease girls," she said, "drop your skirts and tidy up. You can put that colonic down the pan now Pam, but I want you all back in ten minutes."
"Since you admire Pam`s rump so much, Major, you must have a try some day," Percy offered generously, "though I think I`ll reserve her for myself this evening. She`ll be hot to trot. Jane, you`ve done us proud."
"Not done yet, Percy," Lady Jane informed him, "The Hon. Pam has still to get her second dose," and, as the subdued, but not cowed, females drifted back from their ablutions she explained the nature of his wife`s sentence, and her suggestion that it be completed by the men in a public session.
"My dilemma was to choose between youthful enthusiasm and the Major`s military muscle. I leave it to your judgement."




Her husband did not hesitate. "A little of both, will have double the benefit," Sir William declared," but of course the choice must be yours Percy. She may live under my roof, but she`s your woman, so you shall decide."
"Nothing simpler," Percy replied, "six from young Roger, here and seven from the Major."
The judgement was greeted with enthusiastic approval, not least by young Roger and Major Nicholls.
Pamela looked to her brother and husband for some hope of reprieve but found only an eager gleam of anticipation in each. As her brother moved his head slowly from side to side in a definitive negative, she gathered what dignity she could and moved to stand to the whipping frame.
"Bare and bend," Jane commanded and Pamela obeyed. With her feet set carefully in the lower slots she bent over the top rail and reached behind to lift the back flap of the penitent`s pinafore onto her back. With an absence of underwear she was almost ready, needing only to reach down and grip the lower bar in front for her great mare`s buttocks to be spread and lifted for the rod.
Before handing over the crop to the spotty Roger, Jane let the Honourable Pam display her rump for a moment longer, to please the men and add to her discomfiture. Truly a magnificent pair of buttocks, worthy of a mare, and one in training for the track, for they were as firm and muscled as they were large.
Roger`s assault, when it came suggested he had been receiving some coaching in the gentle art of female correction for his youthful zest did not dissipate itself in wild inaccuracy but beat a natural rhythm on the already sore and seared rump meat. In a last desperate effort to salvage some dignity from the humiliation of submitting to this callow youth, Pam had set herself to endure without crying out, a defiance that cost her all her remaining strength, as she groaned and gasped, puffed and whined through a half dozen biting cuts of the crop, each adding its own distinct and burning track to the already furrowed and swollen buttock. Though he had not extracted a real cry from her, Roger seemed well pleased when he finally stood back and passed the whip to the Major.
This was mature male muscle at work, and it showed. Pamela could no longer hold out. Her groans became howls, her gasps yelps of pain. She suffered and writhed under seven lashes of the crop as hard as any she had received, and this on already tenderised flesh. At the end of this monumental cropping even the massive buttocks deployed by the Hon. Pamela were showing considerable signs of wear and tear, several little trickles of red showing where the skin had parted under the vicious tongue on her flank.
Given that she already knew about the code by which women had to conduct themselves after a beating as if nothing had happened to disturb their usual routine, Eve concluded that Mrs Harringer could look forward to many days of groaning equestrianism, and to a whole new meaning for the term saddle-sore. For the moment though, her husband required her saddle for more sporting activities and Eve was beginning to understand the ways of this strange place enough to know that she would, far from resenting the use of her hot and sensitised body, welcome the attention, which would ease her own sexual needs, and that her marital relations might well be repaired by the experience.
The others seemed equally keen to find their beds although, since the younger ones went off in pairs ostensibly to help with the application of soothing creams, it seemed equally probable that their immediate plans did not lack a sensual element as well.
In her own lonely bed Eve found that the excitement of the day had left her exhausted, languid but troubled. As she lay half sleeping, one hand straying unconsciously to lightly stroke the swelling pearl at the top of a warm moist crease, the images of bent and squirming buttocks swirled in and out of her half conscious mind, partly in remembrance of those hot lustful yearnings to seize a rod and lay into soft girl flesh but, more disturbingly still, an ache to spread her own bare buttocks over the brass rails and feel the clean hard bite of rattan in her own tender flesh. Washed over by thoughts of strokes delivered and received, flooded by hot waves of sexuality from her crafty fingers pursuing their way of their own volition it seemed, she let the mounting tide wash over her until her belly spasmed, the contractions of her oozing vagina squeezed sticky libations onto her hand and she drifted off into sleep.
Not far from where Eve thought her troubled thoughts, a singular scene was taking place. In her luxurious bedroom, Lady Jane, no longer the elegant hostess, and ice cool dispenser of justice, bent bare as a slug over an identical set of bars to those in the drawing room, while her lord and master addressed her, rod in hand.



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