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ISBN:  9781907976315
Author:  Sarah Veitch
Word Count:  69,662
Format:  eBook



Below the BeltBelow the Belt
Corrective MeasuresCorrective Measures
Further TrainingFurther Training
Reformed CharactersReformed Characters
Sixteen of the BestSixteen of the Best

'We've all admitted to ourselves that we like to see a girl wriggling under the palm or the cane or the slipper,' the former surgeon continued, 'so do you, deep down, my dear. It's just that you're still being a hypocrite.'

Lisa's work takes her to Malta - where she finds that her new employer, Dr Landers, is a strict disciplinarian. He soundly canes and tawses the girls who work at his deluxe Health Clinic and lets his senior receptionist spank the younger staff. The doctor is intriguing and Lisa is hugely drawn to him. If only he didn't resolve every dispute by pulling down her pants...

Will she reluctantly submit to the rod and reach new vistas of shame and ecstasy? Or will the obstacles she faces send her fleeing into a more conventional lover's arms?

Holding her breath, the herbalist moved nearer to the doorway and sank down upon one knee. As she did so the doctor's voice said 'You don't deserve leniency. You've disobeyed me.'
   Lisa waited to hear another swish of what was presumably a belt. When no sound followed she put her right eye to the keyhole, half expecting to find it blocked or too narrow but found that she could see into a portion of the room.
   A woman lay across the desk, her dress-covered rump towards Lisa. If her slender waist and trim calves and ankles were typical of her age group, Lisa put her at around twenty to twenty-five. As the herbalist stared, Michael flexed a long thin cane between his hands and walked round and round the prostrate female. Then he sized the rod up with the buttocks underneath the black housedress and brought it down. The flesh beneath the housedress flinched a little then wriggled, but stayed obediently in place.
   'How many more, sir?' the woman whimpered after the cane had again lashed down.
  'How many more for leaving the Aviary door open?' Michael Landers murmured. 'Well, I haven't decided on your final punishment yet, Jamilla, but certainly more than the four you've had over your thick dress.' He smiled, beginning to stroke the woman's hips through her concealing garments, and Lisa felt a pang of shame or embarrassment go through her on the girl's behalf.
   She looked awkwardly at the floor, then looked back again, lest she miss even a second of this unusual corporal conduct. Though she hated violence and harassment she wanted to see...
   'Lift your dress up, Jamilla. I'm going to deliver the next six lashes over your pretty pants,' the doctor continued, tapping the black material with the cane.
   'Yes, sir,' the hapless maidservant muttered. She brought her fingers back slowly and edged up the plain linen dress.
   Her briefs were of the whitest cotton. They moulded perfectly to her small yet plump bottom cheeks. As Lisa stared, Michael tugged Jamilla's waistband further up her back so that the material tightened more firmly against her hindquarters. Now the area to be caned was even more cruelly outlined, if not yet fully exposed.
   'Just keep lying like that. There's a good girl,' Michael Landers said conversationally and the bottom in question trembled. Lisa stared daggers at his back, and decided he was a patronising bastard. If he ever spoke to her like that she'd probably take the cane to him herself.
   But Jamilla presumably came from a different culture - a subservient culture. Why else would she be lying across the desk so meekly whilst this tyrant thrashed the soft full target of her arse? The herbalist stared through the keyhole as her employer stood back from the waiting girl and took aim with the cane again. Brought it down sharply over her cotton-clad cheeks.
   'Aaah!' Jamilla's hands came back and rubbed quickly at each punished hemisphere, then she just as quickly returned them to the front of the wide wood desk.
   'Now Jamilla, you know you don't get to soothe your tender bottom,' Michael Landers said evenly. 'I'm the one who applies the cold cream to those burning globes at the very end.'
   'I know, sir. I'm sorry, sir.' The maid's voice was low and very much out of breath, could even have been confused for lust-crazed. 'But I usually only get chastened with your hand or with the wooden spoon.'
   'Oh, I know what you usually get,' her boss added matter of factly. 'It's all written up in the Punishment Book.'
   Christ, the dictator kept a punishment book. This definitely wasn't some boyfriend/girlfriend erotic fling, then. This man actually chastised his staff for day to day misdemeanours, Lisa thought dazedly.
   Now Jamilla's misdemeanours had earned her a sore hot arse. She still had another five strokes to go over her knickers. Lisa didn't want to think about what would happen after that.
  'I think we'll lay the next stroke lower down,' the doctor continued, 'you know, above your plump little thighs.' Those same thighs quivered. So did the underswell of the bottom which was about to be thrashed. Lisa wondered what the girl was feeling and thinking about. She must be trying to decide which angle the cane would come from, trying to protect her extremities by pushing her belly against the desk.
  'A feverish stroke for all the finches you let escape,' Michael said, lining up the rod and applying it smartly to the pantied buttocks. Jamilla groaned and winced visibly as the punisher made swishy contact above her thighs.
   'I'm so sorry, sir,' she whispered hoarsely in broken English. 'No more. Please.'
   'Sorry that you didn't listen to me week after week when I warned you to check on the wire mesh enclosing the birds, Jamilla? Told you to arrange an alarm system that would trigger if the Aviary door wasn't fully closed?'
   'I know, sir. I was busy, sir,' the maidservant whimpered. Her bottom writhed.
   'And now I'm busy teaching you a short sore lesson,' Michael Landers replied. He brought the cane down across the centre of her cheeks, then gave her two full minutes to recover. When she'd stopped the worst of her quivering he brought the rod smartly into contact with her fleshy underhang. Then he enlivened the area immediately above it. 'One to go with your panties on. Now where shall I put it? Ah, just here where I've been neglecting your sorry flesh.'
   Jamilla groaned, the groan turning into a wail as he applied the rod again.
   Lisa shifted her stance then held her breath. Michael set the cane on the desk then returned to his stance behind Jamilla. 'Time to pull your protective panties down.'
   'I'm so striped already...' the girl whined.
   'Why do you always make a fuss this early on, Jamilla? You know that it won't reprieve you,' said the former surgeon in a languid tone.
   'Couldn't I just...?'
   'You can ask nicely for at least six lashes on the bare.'
   'And after that...?' The girl lifted her head and twisted it back to look at him shyly.
   'After that we'll rub the cold cream wherever your hot little pussy desires.'
   The girl flushed, then looked away and let her head hang back down. Her bare thighs tautened. Lisa flushed in sympathy.
   'As you wish, sir,' Jamilla whispered, then reached back and pushed her white cotton panties out of the way. They bunched round her upper legs, accentuating the posterior above them. A posterior that was to again taste the merciless cane.
   Lisa looked curiously at the marks the rod had left. The housedress and knickers had obviously given the cheeks some shielding for they were pink rather than scarlet. The parallel stripes looked vaguely fuzzy rather than clearly defined. Not that that helped matters any, the English girl thought, as her boss picked up the cane and got ready to use it on the Maltese servant. The doctor shouldn't be treating his staff like virtual slaves. She'd report him to the authorities for cruelty as soon as this session was over. She'd get him struck off every medical register in the land. Lisa moved her own hot limbs around as she tried to get comfortable in the suddenly airless corridor. She'd just force herself to watch to the end to gather as much evidence as she could.
   The twenty-eight year old pressed her eye more firmly to the keyhole. The former surgeon was now stroking the servant's newly-bared flesh as if preparing it for sacrifice. 'Please,' Jamilla whispered. She was writhing. 'Oh please!' She must be begging for mercy, Lisa thought confusedly. Her voice must be cracking with a fear that sounded similar to desire.
   'Just another six, angel, then you can have your release,' the medical man said coolly. He retrieved the cane from the desk and stood back, then took aim to one side of the Maltese maid's plump backside. For a moment he seemed to feast his eyes on her tremulous hindquarters, then he brought the rod down sharply to create a new red line.
   Jamilla cried out and drummed first one foot then the other against the thick rug, as if she was tap dancing. Lisa waited for her to jump up, to flee.
   'Isn't it time you thanked your master nicely? Or would you rather have a few extra lashes?' Michael Landers enquired, raising the long thin cane again.
   The girl jerked some more, then she murmured, 'One stroke on the bare for disobedience, sir. Thank you, sir. Please warm my bad bottom again.'
   'Nice to see that you're learning the drill at last, Jamilla,' Michael Landers said evenly, running the punitive rod down her waiting rear. The reminder of the rod's stern lines seemed to cause the girl's reddened orbs to jiggle. The doctor smiled. 'Remember how long it took you to learn the humble words? You took spanking after spanking those first few months...'
   'Yes, sir. But now I know better and I ask nicely for the cane, sir,' Jamilla said.
   'I think you're really asking nicely for my cock, but you'll have to wait until your pussy's really dripping,' the doctor replied.
   Behind the door, Lisa gulped - the man was shameless. Did he think that all his female employees were permanently on heat?
   'I beg for stroke two on my naked buttocks, sir,' Jamilla continued falteringly. She must be desperate to get it over with.
   'You always did obey the dictates of your sex,' said the man. He used the cane further down her expanse, turning another area of shocking pink into glowing scarlet. Again the maid moaned low and pushed her body forward then Michael Landers tapped each hot cheek in a warning gesture and she slowly and obediently pushed her bare bottom back.
   'Please discipline me,' she whispered.
   Her boss moved in to palm her peripheries. 'Oh sweetheart, you can ask more nicely than that,' he murmured in a taunting voice.
   'Please apply the rod for a third time to my stingingness. Please leather my bad little bum cheeks,' Jamilla gasped out in a thin and oddly breathless tone. Was she blushing? Lisa wished she could see more than the girl's backside, wished she had access to her facial expression and her thoughts.
   'How hard do you deserve it, you thoughtless wench?' the doctor asked. This was doctor's orders on a vastly different scale to those most people knew, thought the trainee herbalist. She waited for the bent-over maid to plead for leniency.
   Instead the girl murmured, 'As hard as my Master desires.'
  So he was her Master now. Lisa thought she'd like to substitute the word tyrant. Had this island become part of modern society? Whatever had happened to egalitarian values, to equal rights?
  She held her breath, wondering how hard Michael would apply the curved cruel cane. To her relief, he just raised it a few inches before bringing it down smartly. He didn't pull the rod all the way back like they did in black and white movies during boarding school scenes. As previously, though, the maidservant groaned low in her throat and shook from side to side as if to slough off the torment. Lisa could see that the cane's bite had brought a new feverish line to the tanned small backside.
   'Good girl.' Michael fondled her again and Jamilla squirmed. 'Let me know when you're ready to beg for the fourth hard stroke.'
   'Now, sir, please,' the girl muttered, trying to keep her arse in place. She scrunched up her bum cheeks, obviously anticipating the lash of the cane. When it arrived, she howled and bent her calves back and rubbed furiously at her backside.
   'Say pretty please as you ask me for the next,' Michael said.
   'But it's...'
   'You've done irreparable damage to my Aviary.'
   'I know! I'm so very sorry.'
   'I'm making you even more sorry,' her employer said.
   'Pretty please, sir, I deserve to taste the cane,' Jamilla said throatily.
   'And so you shall,' Michael Landers murmured, resting the rod against her raised cheeks as if about to play them like a violin. He moved the cane down her clearly-tormented globes as if trying to decide which soft area to warm further then he lifted the staff and whacked it into the lower third of her exposed soft hemispheres.
   'Aaah!' the Maltese maid yelled. Her bottom did a wild little rhythmic dance as her belly squirmed across the desk top. Then she pushed her orbs back into their tormentor's fondling hands. Was the girl hoping to gain leniency, Lisa wondered. Hoping to take her boss's mind off the hateful hard application of the cane? 'Please, sir,' Jamilla whispered, sliding her thighs as far apart at her position allowed for. 'I need...'
  'You need another two tastes of the rod before you deserve release,' Michael Landers said in an everyday sort of voice. Crouching behind the door, Lisa marvelled at his reserved tone and casual stance. Were these punishments so common that he didn't get overheated? Her own cotton dress was sticking to her newly-swamped underarms.
   'Master, I beg you to train me further,' Jamilla gasped reluctantly after much fondling of her secret places.
   'And will you keep your bottom nice and raised for me?' her tormentor said.
   'Yes, sir.' With what looked like a supreme effort, Jamilla straightened her thighs and pushed her plump nates up obediently. 'I'm ready to be striped now, sir,' she said.
   'I doubt if you're ever truly ready - you always make such a fuss,' the doctor replied. Again he took his time deciding where to lay the cane then used it halfway down her helpless arse.
   'Aaah! That went over an earlier stroke, didn't it?' Jamilla said when she'd finally let go of her squirming cheeks.
  'It did. You've been so disobedient that I'm running out of space to correct you,' her employer said. He watched her examining her reddened flesh as best she could, then said, 'I'm waiting.'
   'I deserve to... deserve to taste the rod for the final time,' Jamilla muttered, getting slowly back into place.
Average Rating (2 Reviews):  
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Satisfaction guaranteed
Tuesday, 11 January 2011  | 

My girlfriend and I got little sleep after reading this Sarah Veitch corporal punishment story. In fact I think my girlfriend was even more turned on by it than I was. It's stuffed full of more adult scenes than most books of this genre.

Some corporal punishment stories have a repressed background, but Subculture doesn't. All the young women in it have good lives - except when their behaviour results in them being soundly spanked and they end up with sore bottoms.

Until now my girlfriend and I only knew of Sarah Veitch from her pieces in corporal punishment magazines, so we we're really pleased to discover Subculture and want to recommend it to other fans of corporal punishment stories.

Sensual Satisfaction
Tuesday, 15 June 2010  | 

Subculture is a highly arousing book from erotica author Sarah Veitch, but you don't have to be part of a couple to enjoy it. My husband isn't interested in corporal punishment, and I don't want to ruin an otherwise wonderful marriage, so my best times are spent in naughty secrecy with books like this one.

I felt I had two exciting viewpoints while I read this corporal punishment story, imagining myself as Lisa, the gorgeous punished heroine, whilst also seeing it all through the eyes of the male dominant.

In my view Subculture is a classic for those of us who love the idea of receiving a very sore bottom.

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