Sister Murdock's House of Correction

Sister Murdock's House of Correction
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ISBN:  9781907976797
Author:  Maria Angelo
Word Count:  64,578
Format:  eBook

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Carnal CravingCarnal Craving
Slaves of ElysiumSlaves of Elysium

I was held down between the two lines of seated girls. I knew the blow would fall soon and I knew they were all watching my eyes to see how I would take it. I struggled again, kicking out in the hope I might catch Sister Murdock.
   'Help them hold her down, girls,' she snapped crossly. 'Lance, Pearce, grab her ankles.'
   All the girls did as she commanded, pinning my shoulders and arms to the table. But several of them, Astrud included, tried to give my fingers an encouraging squeeze. Male hands gripped my ankles and knees, and I prepared myself for the onslaught.
   But Sister Murdock obviously saw some merit in letting me sweat. She walked round to the opposite side of the table where I could see her and stood there, swinging the paddle against her hand with evident relish. She leaned over and smiled in my face.
   'I think you've had this coming for a little while, Lady Sarah,' she said menacingly.

Trapped inside Athelstan Hall with seven other young women, Sarah discovers the hard way that a lady's education is not complete until she learns to accept sexual subjugation. She is swept along from one encounter to the next, becoming gradually aware that things are not quite what they seem...

I turned and faced her, blood singing in my head. I reminded myself that I was Sir Peter Easton's wife, and not the trembling twelve-year-old I felt.
   'Most certainly I do,' I countered. 'This is still a free country, I hope. If you lay so much as a finger on me I shall take you to court. Is that clear?'
   'Bravely said,' she mocked. 'Unfortunately, you are not out and at large in this free country. You are here, a captive inside Athelstan Hall, a house of correction. Submission, as I have already warned you, is one of the major subjects on the curriculum. You don't seem ready yet to accept the indignity of being beaten. For that is all it is. No physical harm will come to you. It may even surprise you to know that you will be the last of this week's guests to have to submit to corporal punishment. The others have all been chastised for one reason or another earlier today, when you were either otherwise engaged, or perhaps deliberately avoiding us.'
   'I don't believe you,' I gasped, utterly deflated.
   'Amarinda, would you stand up, please,' the ogre asked assuredly.
   The girl with Indian features got gingerly to her feet. She was a little plump, with huge dark eyes and thick black hair like a waterfall down her back.
   'Amarinda was brought here by two of her brothers,' the woman explained. 'She has refused to marry the suitor of her father's choice, claiming she is in love with an English boy. I must say that personally I have a great deal of sympathy for her plight. However, I agreed to help her family persuade her that parents know best. Her punishment level has already been high, and it will continue so throughout the week. Amarinda, would you be so good as to show Lady Sarah your bottom?'
   The girl obediently unwound her red and gold sari to reveal a strangely incongruous pair of modern briefs. She lowered them and turned to display herself to me. Her buttocks were already a savage red under the olive of her skin, and several separate weals were visible.
   I gasped. 'You cruel beast!' I said angrily to Sister Murdock.
   'Yes, yes, I am just that,' she acknowledged. 'But that does not alter the fact that you are going to have to accept your punishment. We'd all far prefer it to be willingly. But force can be used, if that's what you want. Now would you please lean over the table.'
   'Never!' I refused petulantly.
   The Sarah part of me was thinking like a lawyer; there were witnesses, she said. But the Sally part of me, the ever-present slut, was wondering exactly how the experience would feel, to be spanked in a sexually degrading way.
   In any event, it looked as if both halves of me were going to have their wishes granted. At a sign from the old witch, Lance and Pearce were at my elbows.
   They dragged me, struggling but not screaming, over to the end of the table and pulled me face down over it. I felt a hand lift my skirt and another pull down my briefs.
   'Help me, someone,' I pleaded, now genuinely horrified. But the other girls, even Astrud, stared at me with uncertainty in their eyes.
   'Stop fighting,' murmured Amarinda. 'It'll be easier.'
   Sister Murdock had retrieved the paddle from above the fireplace. But she still overheard Amarinda. 'Did you say something?' she snarled.
   Amarinda cringed away. 'I just told her to stop fighting,' she defended herself.
   'You should know better than to speak to an inmate who's being punished,' the woman hissed. 'Assume the chastisement position.'
   The poor girl did exactly as she was told, bending over to touch her toes without hesitation. The paddle flashed out and there was a sharp, greedy smack. She jerked forward both from pain and from the sheer force of the clout. The air rushed from her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. Weeping softly, she resumed her place at the long table even more gingerly than she had vacated it.
   I was held down between the two lines of seated girls. I knew the blow would fall soon and I knew they were all watching my eyes to see how I would take it. I struggled again, kicking out in the hope I might catch Sister Murdock.
   'Help them hold her down, girls,' she snapped crossly. 'Lance, Pearce, grab her ankles.'
   All the girls did as she commanded, pinning my shoulders and arms to the table. But several of them, Astrud included, tried to give my fingers an encouraging squeeze. Male hands gripped my ankles and knees, and I prepared myself for the onslaught.
   But Sister Murdock obviously saw some merit in letting me sweat. She walked round to the opposite side of the table where I could see her and stood there, swinging the paddle against her hand with evident relish. She leaned over and smiled in my face.
   'I think you've had this coming for a little while, Lady Sarah,' she said menacingly.
   Then she disappeared from view. There was complete silence in the room. They were all waiting for the paddle to fall and they were all waiting for my scream. Whatever happened I must deny them that pleasure.
   I heard the blow before I felt it. It was a crisp crack, almost like a stick breaking. I had time to think that it really wasn't so bad, before the shock hit me. It's not easy to describe the pain but I know it was green in colour. This huge wash of liquid agony swept over me, clawing at my feet, my calves, my shoulders, my thighs, my breasts, my belly.
   But mostly my buttocks.
   For a moment I thought my dinner was going to appear over the table in front of me.
   But somehow I held it down. However, I could not hold back the sharp salty tears that sprang spontaneously to my eyes. Nor could I suppress the enormous rush of air that was expelled from my lungs. But I did manage not to cry out.
   Sister Murdock again appeared in front of me and leaned forward, a smug grin on her face. 'You'll thank me for this later,' she gloated.
   In reply I spat at her.
   I was so caught up in my indignant playacting that I did it as if it were called for by the scene I was playing. It's something you often see in films and it's something I've always thought disgusting, something I would never do. But then I'd never been in such a highly charged situation before.
   'Hold her down,' Sister Murdock commanded, wiping her face.
   She disappeared again and immediately a second blow fell, far more painful than the first, finding sore, bruised flesh. My whole body jerked convulsively and I lay there, still pinioned, my breath sawing erratically through my clenched teeth. My chest heaved miserably. I had not known or imagined that agony could feel so fierce and hot. There was no help from the other girls and indeed, from the corner of my eye I noticed that Freya, the girl with the glasses, was obviously enjoying the spectacle. She licked her lips hungrily and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. But for me the playacting was over and I lay there, dreading what I knew must happen next.
   Sister Murdock's face reappeared and moved slowly to within a couple of inches of mine. 'That was very brave, Lady Sarah,' she hissed. 'I congratulate you. You now have another chance to express your hatred.'
   I knew I must do it, of course, no matter what it cost me. In fact, it was only the pain that must follow that made the defiance worthwhile. But my mouth felt so dry, almost as if my own body were conspiring against me. I swallowed hard a couple of times and at last felt the saliva coming back. I gathered up what I could - and that was pitifully little - and expelled it full against her face, so close to mine.
   There, I'd done it!
   But now I had to grimly await my fate. And strangely, despite the awful tension of the situation, I had the detachment to notice that Sister Murdock was wearing make-up, which had smudged when she wiped her face. Good God, I thought, she must be even older than she looked, a dry worn out stick with no way to get her kicks other than to torture younger, more attractive women.
   For it was torture, I had no doubt. Maybe a knife under the fingernails, or a beating on the soles of the feet, or a red-hot needle piercing one's nipple might be far more harmful, but I found it difficult, right then, to imagine that it could be more painful.
   The third blow was finally too much for me. I had invited it but I could not overcome it. A despairing cry burst from my lips and from deep down in my throat. A similar gasp escaped Freya's throat and she closed her eyes in fulfilment. Too exhausted to be angry, a wave of giddiness swept over me and for a minute I thought I would pass out.
   'Let her up,' Sister Murdock said.
   I straightened myself cautiously and felt hands rearranging my clothing.
   'You give up, then?' I managed, though it came out little better than a croak.
   'Yes, I give up,' she conceded. 'You have more spirit than I gave you credit for. You win. Until tomorrow.'

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