ARABELLA AND THE ROD 42, girls tied stories



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When all was ready to her satisfaction, she took up her position to one side of the bare and huddled masses, and checked her aim. The monstrous rod rose to well above her shoulder, and then swept down and in, to arrive almost from underneath. On its journey it made a thrumming sound, much deeper than the ripping hiss of the discarded rod, and then impacted in the soft flesh with a loud `thuck`.
The mounds quaked with the impact, and the woman`s whole body jolted as her breath came out in a strangled cry. As the rod fell back, the blood rushed back into the gouged flesh to paint a livid red trace of its track, a little below the widest part of those wide haunches.
A calculated pause to let the woman feel the full benefit of the swelling bruise, and then the second stroke swept in just below the first, with identical results, and another finger thick purple rope building in the plump white globes.
By the sixth such assault, not only was the buttock becoming pulpy, as well as purple, especially on the right, but Dominique`s control was slipping. Now she cried out full-throatedly as each searching stroke burrowed into the cringing flesh, and the after-tow of each pain wave drew a long low moan.
Twelve now but not the end, the piper had to be paid yet for the privilege of being secured, and the plum coloured bruise mass had spread to cover most of the buttock below the centre. Blood was already oozing from the right flank, and looked fair to be a trickle before the last terrible two had fallen, but the surface abrasions were as nothing to the buried bruising of the heaped flesh that ran deep into the once white pillows, and would maintain their aching reminder of her fault for days to come.
At last, hoarse with her screams, scarcely able to stand, she was released from her mount, and set to turn a tear streaked face upon her judge.
"That was for the hurt you did to another woman`s marriage but, since you made your false accusation in a letter, not even face to face, your hands will also pay a price. Four cuts on each palm." She turned to Fabriona. "A lighter cane will be more suitable this time."
Dominique was made to stand out between the Court, with its attendants and the line of remaining penitents, and hold out a plump white palm at waist level, her forearm horizontal and fingers braced back. With a thin and whippy rod, Fabriona cut into the soft fleshy part of the proffered member.
Her strength to resist sapped by the ferocious beating she had received over the `horse`, the poor woman shrieked and sheltered her wounded hand under her armpit, as if to save it from further assault, but, by threats and dominance, Fabriona forced her to offer it again and again, each time more reluctantly, until four livid red tracks ran across the small white palm. And then the other hand had to take its due share of agony.
Whimpering now, huddled over, with her hands thrust under her arms, Dominique stood once more before the Court. Donna Magdala`s face was set in stone. Arabella found it difficult to see in it the kindly and thoughtful mentor, at whose feet she had sat, learning the ways of the Petraverdis.
"Finally we come to the matter of your unreasoning sexual jealousy. It is most unbecoming to a woman of your rank and position in Society and, despite your apparent distress, I cannot overlook it. You will receive six strokes of the strap on your vulva, but, in view of the fact that you have been severely punished already tonight, you will report to my room in two days` time, when you will be in a better condition to appreciate their beneficial effect, and after you have had forty-eight hours in which to contemplate them."
Dominique made a stiff and flinching curtsey in acknowledgement of the clemency granted her, and retired to the end of the chamber, while the next penitent took her place, ashen faced at the degree of severity the Court seemed set on tonight.
She was little more than a girl, probably no more than eighteen, and stood nervously before the President, holding a small enamel box.
"Lucia, you stand accused of the disgusting habit of smoking cigarillos. Do you have anything to say?"
"No, Madam," replied the girl, in a small voice, "it`s true that I have been smoking, and I`m truly sorry."




"As to that, the Court will make it its business to see that you are," Donna Magdala responded, drily, "Are those the offending objects?"
"Yes, Madam," came the tremulous reply, and she placed the evidence of her fall from grace at the President`s feet.
"This is a particularly abhorrent habit in one so young and fresh, leading as it does to stinking breath, and dry yellowing skin, to hawking and spitting, and all manner of ills, and I intend to both punish you as a deterrent, and to mark the disgusting nature of the offence in an appropriately degrading manner."
Donna Magdala paused momentarily, to let her words sink in,and then continued.
"You will bare your buttocks for one dozen cuts with the rod. But for your age, and relative inexperience of the court, it might well have been many more. Afterwards, you will be left on the horse, and one of your precious cigarellos will be placed in your anus, lighted of course. As it burns down, you will have plenty of time to contemplate what will happen when it reaches its fleshy holder."
The girl blanched as her judge pressed remorselessly on.
"In addition, to mark the disgusting and degrading nature of your fault, you will, for the next seven days, be assigned to wash, by hand, the entire household collection of soiled monthly rags."
The girl squirmed with mortification, for not only was this far and away the most lowly task in the household, lower even than the emptying of chamber pots, but, with nearly a hundred women of menstruating age within the walls, she might well have to scrub and wring out up to fifty noisome towels a day with her delicate hands, unused to menial work of any kind, let alone this degrading task.
At a gesture from Fabriona, she doffed her gown and bent herself over the `horse`, revealing two perfect peach halves, well fleshed, and clenching involuntarily with fear of what they were to suffer, while the wide spacing of her thighs, with her ankles strapped to the rear legs of the `horse`, combined with the tightly bent posture, opened up the cleft between to expose not only her pouting vulval purse but the crinkled anus, soon to receive a fiery visitor.
Although the President had taken account of her age and inexperience to set her tally at a dozen only, she was granted no further consideration. Fabriona whaled in the rod with the full force of her steely arm to raise a series of plumy welts across the girlish globes. Each stroke was greeted with a cry of gradually increasing intensity until she shrieked aloud, and bucked and writhed as much as her tightly secured position allowed. When it was done, a thick blood-blue bar, three or four inches wide, stretched across the weeping woman`s hinds, particularly inflamed and puffy on the right, where several droplets of blood threatened to break loose and trickle down her thigh.
But the sentence was not yet complete. Fabriona went to the box at Magdala`s feet and extracted a slim white paper cylinder, its honey brown contents showing at each end. Taking a candle from one of the wall brackets, she stood at Lucia`s head and placed the forbidden tobacco stick between her lips. When it was well alight, she moved to the girl`s rear, and sought out the cringing anus with her left hand, thrusting two fingers, none too gently, deep into the rectum. As she withdrew them slowly, she pressed the butt end of the cigarello into the gap between them so that, as the fingers drew clear, the sphincter closed on the last fifth of the cigarello, which hung there, jerking lightly as the anus twitched, and issuing a thin string of blue smoke, as evidence of its continued vitality. Lucia`s body tensed as she tried to prevent the cheeks of her arse closing on the red hot
morsel of glowing tobacco.
With appropriate justice handed out to the pretty smoker, the head of this household of firmly disciplined women returned to the file still awaiting correction.
"Stand forward, Julietta. You`ve come here, at your own request, to be put through the cleansing fire of a repeated ritual beating, so that, by the end, you will rave passed through the vale of agony to a place where your mind is at peace, although your body is in torment."
Donna Magdala lifted her gaze from Julietta`s red clad form, to address the assembly at large.




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