The Memoirs of a Victorian Disciplinarian

A dark tale set in London in 1876

Written by Dickins

This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and 
incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used 
here fictitiously. Any resemblance to real events, locals or any persons, 
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Story Codes: ped, incest and discipline

Chapter 1, Reunion

The evening was drawing in after a fine day. The clatter of carts, 
coaches and tradesman's traps had died away with the sunlight, and once 
again peace had descended on Hanover Square.

As was my want at such times, I settled down beside the roaring fire in 
the parlour. There, while enjoying a glass of claret and inhaling the 
smell of supper wafting from the kitchen, I put on my spectacles and 
settled back to enjoy a few minutes of peace and quite before my young 
maid Rose called me to the table.

I was reading the daily report from the House of Commons when there was a 
knock at the front door. The unwelcome noise irritated me, and I glanced 
at the clock on the mantel trying hard to continue to read, and ignore 
the sound. I had few friends; by choice I assure you, and none who would 
call upon me at such an inconvenient time without an appointment.

I heard the scuffle of Rose's skirts as she passed the parlour door, 
hurrying to answer the front door. I read on, refusing to strain my 
already poor hearing, but the words held no meaning as my attention was 
drawn to figuring out who could possibly be calling at such an unearthly 
hour.

In due course, Rose knocked and entered. She had only been with me a few 
of months, but had already learnt the art of moving quietly, and keeping 
her back straight whilst keeping her hands clasped together in front of 
her lace pinafore. 

She curtsied her face dutifully lowered. None the less, her urchin 
features were there, her pointed nose and large eyes, her slender lips 
and thin chin. A lace cap held her uncut hair beneath it, but when off, 
her hair extended to the small of her back, a lovely dark brown that was 
a beautiful contrast to her pale skin. 

She excused herself politely before telling me that a young woman and a 
child were at the door wanting to see me.

"Well! Don't they have names?" I asked sighing with regret, for the silly 
girl had just earned herself yet another punishment. It would be yet 
another task in my very busy day, and one that I now realised with some 
regret would mean that my paper would have to go unread yet again. 

Frankly, though, there were too many hours in the day. My wife was dead 
and my daughter had fled the house some eleven years ago, and now I only 
had my maid to discipline.

Not at all like the old days when I was in the Army in India. Then there 
had been men to command and servants to teach compliance and obedience 
too.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Rose gulped, quickly curtsying again.

"Well!" I said.

"Miss Sarah and her daughter! Rose replied.

"I see," I murmured, and put the paper down. "Bring them in and go and 
prepare the table for three," I said.

"Yes, Sir," Rose replied. 

I detected a look of relief on her pretty little face and smiled as I 
thought of her welcoming my guests with the idea that their arrival would 
delay her punishment.

"I will expect you, as usual, at nine," I told her, laughing as her 
expression changed. "Now! It wouldn't do for me to become lax in my 
responsibility, now, would it?" I asked of her.

"No, Sir, thank you, Sir," she murmured, curtsying once more before 
hurrying to fetch my guests. 

A few moments later Rose drew open the parlour door to allow Sarah to 
enter with a pretty little girl of eleven or thereabouts protectively 
held before her. 

I looked at the child first, ignoring Sarah as my eyes slid over her 
face, seeing her mother in her features and expression. There was a 
stubbornness and pride there, in equal measures, but there was also 
nervousness too. Her clothes however, were of a poor quality and ill 
fitting but were nevertheless clean.
 
My attention then turned to her mother and I sighed, for there was 
sadness there, a great sadness and a despair that had driven her to my 
door.

"Hello Father," she murmured.

"You must be in dire need to have to come to me for support," I told her. 
She winced and blushed, and for a moment she looked startlingly like her 
deceased mother.

"Not that I would deny it to you. You have always been welcome here, 
Sarah, you know that," I told her.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm a disappointment," she said. I shook my head, hot 
and unshed tears clouding my poor vision. 

"You misunderstand me! Just as you always have," I told her.

"What was there to understand?" she asked with a shrug, as the sound of 
the bell from the dinning room interrupting us. 

"Come! Let's put all that behind us. Take off your coats and let's sit 
down as a family and have a meal together," I suggested. "Then after 
we've eaten, I'll have the spare made ready for you both," I said.
As we entered the dining room, Rose stood respectfully to one side, her 
head bowed and her hands on her pinafore.

During the meal I ate sparingly and we seldom spoke. The child and I had 
yet to learn her name ate ravenously, grabbing for the bread and eating 
rapidly until her mother admonished her, but Sarah I noted ate just as 
eagerly.

I felt momentarily guilty, but then, it hadn't been me who had forced my 
daughter to flee the house never to return, her belly already well 
pronounced. She had not even attended her mother's funeral, held just 
three months after she left; although I noticed that there were often 
flowers other than my own left at her grave.

Rose came and took the plates, returning with a pot of coffee and cups 
for us all.

"Emily will have warmed milk," Sarah told Rose, who curtsied before 
hurrying out. 

"I see your taste for young girls hasn't changed," Sarah remarked.

"And why should it?" I asked. It wasn't as if I was doing anything 
illegal or immoral, I am just taking pretty young girls into service and 
training them. Of course, none of my maids ever stay very long and after 
learning their trade under my strict tutelage, they quickly move on to 
better positions.

"Jane left about a year after you walked out," I told her. "She is 
working for the Duke of Marlborough now," I said. 

I am rather proud of young Jane. She wouldn't have obtained such a good 
position if it had not been for my dedication to her education and 
advancement. 

I sipped the fine black coffee and checked the hunter in my breast 
pocket. The time was fifteen minutes to nine and time to get things 
ready. 

"No doubt you will want to put Emily to bed," I surmised aloud.

"Yes, please," Sarah, agreed, her cheeks brightening.

"Be sure to be in the library at nine," I told her.

"Is that really necessary?" Sarah asked, helping Emily down from the 
table.

"Of course! We all have a duty to assist those who are less fortunate 
than ourselves," I reminded her. 

Sarah sighed and left the room with Emily. She would have stayed to 
argue, had it not been for the child, I was sure. 

Sarah and I had often had raging rows as her mother allowed her to have 
too much independence. Perhaps motherhood will have helped her to 
understand life a little better, but I doubted it.
 
My daughter and I haven't seen eye to eye with each other since her 
fourteenth birthday. Coincidentally that was the same day her mother had 
obtained a promise from me to cease educating her.
 
I sighed and shook my head, certain that, had I been able to properly 
administer discipline in her upbringing, Sarah would not have found 
herself with child at such an early age, and to her shame not even 
betrothed. 

We never had any problems like that in the Army. The soldiers and the 
servants knew their place and how to behave, instilled by a judicious use 
of the cane, crop and strap.

Entering the library I inspected the room, checking that everything was 
in order, nothing out of place to cause any discord, especially now that 
my wayward daughter was to be present. 

I stoked the fire and added some more coal to those already glowing in 
the grate, then took a little key from my pocket and unlocked the large 
cabinet standing over by the far wall. The façade of fake book spines 
opened with the doors, exposing the secret compartment that held all the 
educational implements I had collected over the years. 

The canes are of the very best quality, and stamped with the name of 
Harris & Sons, Gravesend. My collection of leather straps, of which I 
have a particularly fine set, were purchased from Gould's of Carnaby 
Street, and the many whips and crops are from Lawsons, that fine maker of 
leather goods for the Gentry.

Few of my maids have ever shown an interest in knowing the quality of the 
implements but I am sure that they came to appreciate them when they had 
children of their own to punish, as a poorly made implement could easily 
shatter and cut into their delicate skin.

The clock in the hall began to strike nine, and Rose came hurrying in, 
curtsying before the last strike of the hour. 

I smiled; pleased to see that she had made it on time and not earned 
herself further punishment. 

Sarah, under no such compulsion, appeared a few moments later.

"I am sorry you have to undergo this, Rose," my daughter murmured as she 
passed my young maid, on her way to the seat that had always been there 
for her.

"It's all right, Miss," Rose said, her face showing a slight flush of 
embarrassment. "I understand that your father is doing it for my own 
good," she murmured.

I beamed at Rose, a girl worthy of my efforts, and then turned to scowl 
at my daughter.

"You see! Not everyone questions my motives," I told her. 

"But!" Sarah started to say.

"Be silent," I ordered, turning towards Rose to glare at her with all of 
my displeasure.

"Now my girl! List your errors," I told her.

Rose licked her lips and took a deep breath, her eyes following me as I 
stepped back to stand before the opened cabinet.

"I spilt the milk this morning, but only a trifle, and I cleaned it up 
straight away," she told me. I nodded my acknowledgement and let my hand 
rest on one of the canes.

"Then, I failed to capture all the dust from the stairs," she said, 
watching my hand as it lingered over one of the fine leather straps.

"I forgot to curtsy this afternoon," she recalled, her voice starting to 
soften with each miss-endeavour. I remembered and nodded, my hand sliding 
to the short whip.

"And then I mumbled when Miss Sarah arrived," she whispered. 

As well she might whisper, her failures adding up to bring my hand to 
hover over a special crop, a lovely two foot piece of leather that was 
wrapped lovingly round a length of supple cane with a tongue tip of flat 
leather which could be flicked most agreeably. 

I took it down and let her look at it. Her nervous swallow brought a 
smile to my lips. 

"This won't be the first time you've felt this special crop, will it, 
Rose?" I asked.

I swept it down onto the arm of a nearby chair and nodded as a burst of 
dust rose into the air. Rose shook her head in agreement watching the 
dust rise and knowing that she would have a hard time cleaning tomorrow, 
but a sore bottom would be a constant reminder for her to do it well.

"Prepare yourself!" I ordered.

Despite being only fourteen and the relative short time she had been in 
my employ, Rose knew what was expected and dutifully began undoing her 
uniform. I had designed it with this requirement in mind, and so that the 
fastenings were simple and effortless to undo.

I glanced towards my daughter and smiled at her as Rose revealed her 
small, pert breasts. Then at last Rose stood naked and bright faced 
coming over to curtsy sweetly in front of me, her hands held at her side 
the way I always insisted upon during these educational lessons.

Sarah turned away to look with great attention at her fingernails but 
secretly I knew that she was just as excited as I was at having the 
chance to witness Rose's cruel education. 
  
"I am ready, Sir," she announced, blushing as my eyes swept over her 
lovely young body.

Her breasts were small and firm, pear shaped and plump, the nipples 
small, dainty and a bright and innocent pink. She had a slender waist and 
lean hips, and her compact bottom was in keeping with her slender legs 
and flat stomach. 

There were only a few curls covering her pubis giving us a pleasant view 
of her cunt, their darkness contrasting nicely with the pale ivory of her 
skin. 

Rose walked over to where I had placed the crop, her bottom nicely 
presented as she leant over to pick it up and bring it back to me.

"Please, Sir, would you help me to better myself?" she asked softly, her 
breath already quickening with the very thought of her impending ordeal.

"Very well, Rose," I agreed taking the crop and ignoring the snort that 
came from my daughter. 

A glance in her direction was all the warning I was prepared to give her, 
then my attention returned to my lovely pupil as I strode over to the 
occasional table in centre of the room and then fetched one of the 
armchairs and placed it with its back towards the table. 

Rose knew the position she had to adopt for her punishment. 

Shyly, she glanced at Sarah before placing her knees on each arm of the 
chair and then carefully leaning over the back to place her elbows and 
lower arms onto the polished surface of the table. 

In this position, her shoulder blades rose in stark relief to her lower 
back causing the cheeks of her bottom to part from one another in a most 
obscenely way. Her little oval breasts were now suspended beneath her 
trunk, their curve unaltered by her position whilst her bottom tensed 
nervously in anticipation of the punishment she was about to receive.

"You are a real disappointment, Rose," I told her severely; lifting the 
crop up to measure the distance I would need to ensure a proper swing.

I'm sorry, Sir!" she murmured, her warm breath misting the highly 
polished surface of the wooden table. 

"Now! Push your bottom out," I ordered, although, to be frank, her parted 
bottom needed no further stretching. 

She lowered her back another inch and, in doing so, forced her bottom 
cheeks even wider, painfully stretching the sinuses at the top of her 
thighs and exposing her delicious charms most agreeably.

The soft leather tongue tickled and teased her lovely soft skin as I 
swung it back and forth. My wrist added to the movement, flicking it 
lightly, then without warning I brought the tip down vertically in 
between the cheeks of her parted bottom. Listening to her draw breath and 
watching her bottom tense satisfied me as to the quality and the 
precision of my first stroke.

Nodding to myself, my hand lifted the crop again, once more flicking 
lightly across her flesh teasing her until the next harsh flick that 
would bring her to her toes, and have her gasping and writhing her bottom 
in the hope that it would help cool it and lessen the pain.

A ruddy glow began to develop along the apex of her finely curved bottom 
as flick after flick brought on a warm tenderness. It was a mark of the 
softness of her skin, in that it would glow after only four or five 
smacks from the whippy tongue of the crop.

I delivered a few more strokes, taking my time to allow her to regain her 
composure, if not her skin colour. She whimpered now after each stroke, 
her toes curling back and forth and her hips rotating as she tried to 
dispel the growing heat in her tender bottom.

I tapped her lovely bottom with the tip of the crop, slapping at her skin 
almost playfully in quick succession, until the last one which I 
delivered harshly bringing her head up and lifting her onto her toes 
again. 

Her thighs tensed and stretched and she quivered adorably before she 
slowly hung her head and dutifully pushing her bottom out again for me to 
continue.

"What do you say?" I asked sharply, admiring the glow I had brought to 
her otherwise pale skin.

"Thank you, Sir," she panted, dipping her back just that little bit more, 
her face growing as warm as her bottom.

I began to tap her other pert cheek, seemingly teasing her while in 
reality tenderising the skin for the final, sharper delivery of the tip 
of the crop's soft leather tongue. 

And so it proved, with the crop landing to bring a swift little cry from 
the girl, whilst her bottom danced as the sharp sensations flared within.

Rose whimpered, as she strived to recover her breath and absorb the pain 
that was building in her bottom. Then, in mute compliance, she dipped her 
back again until her bottom, which was widely parted by the arms of the 
chair, opened once more to reveal her lovely charms. 

I glanced over towards Sarah and smiled as she starred wide-eyed at the 
girl, no doubt enjoying the erotic position that I insisted that Rose 
adopt, but looked away just as soon as she noticed that I was watching 
her.

Using the soft tongue, I let it dance between my maid's thighs until the 
rapid flicks brought a flood of blood to the surface of her skin. 
Then listening for her to regain her breath again I brought even more 
colour to her thighs, only stopping when the increased sensation grew too 
much for her. 

The task was delicious, and her pale flesh soon took on a smarting red, 
gleaming with the polish from the leather tongue. I commenced flicking 
with greater urgency against her tender flesh, smiling at the jerking it 
caused and the sharp cries the young girl uttered.

Each fresh flick of the leather crop brought a new jerk, each one 
slightly more pronounced than the last. Her cries raised an octave with 
each strike and her return to the required position slowed as the growing 
sensations within her young body caused ever more trembling to her.

Panting and whimpering, she lowered her upper body, pressing it to the 
table in her urge to expose herself even more. I admired the sight, her 
bottom fully parted, her thighs separated sufficiently to expose the 
hanging curve of her vulva, the succulent flesh made all the prettier by 
the rosy complexion of her bottom and inner thighs.

The position exposed the tender skin on the underside of her bottom, an 
area that normally lay together, protecting her delicious young cunt. 
Separated, they bordered her exposed anatomy and left her completely 
unprotected. 

I raised the crop, and flicked the soft tip between the two fleshy 
curves, smiling as the girl quivered and groaned. Her quivering grew more 
and more pronounced and her groans lengthened, at which point I made the 
final flick of the crop upwards to scold both sides of her flesh.

"Please Sir!" she cried, rising up on her toes, her bottom wriggling 
about like a fish on a line. 

I looked over at Sarah, finding her enthralled by the girl's ordeal, her 
heavy skirts unable to hide her excitement as she wrapped her thighs 
around her hands and rubbed.

"That's shameful!" Sarah murmured, looking away again when she saw me 
watching. 

I shrugged and returned my attention to my young maid who, recovering her 
breath, had parted her thighs even further to leave her aroused cunt 
poised for my pleasure, her labia slightly parted.

"It's alright Miss!" Rose panted breathlessly, holding herself still for 
my next stroke.

Flicking that most tender part of her flesh again, narrowly missing her 
vulva and clenched anus I watched her quiver while her breath once more 
escalated in anticipation of the fierce and lancing pain she would 
receive.

I then delivered another sharp stroke, and watched as the girl rose up on 
her toes and tossed her bottom back and forth while the skin I had just 
struck brightened, taking on a glow that rivalled that of my daughter's 
face.

"Please Sir!" Rose whimpered. 

Her hand came back, between her thighs, and her fingers massaged the 
pulpy lips of her cunt before drawing them apart to offer the inner flesh 
to our gaze.

"Have you learnt your lesson?" I asked.

"Yes Sir," she whimpered, but her other hand came back, around the curve 
of her bottom, for her stretched fingers to draw her cheeks still further 
apart, offering up her stretched anal ring for my pleasure, whatever that 
may be.

"Good!" I told her, patting her back to let her rise, her burning face 
bowed humbly. "Gather up your clothes and go to your room," I ordered, 
returning the crop to the cabinet.

"Thank you, Sir," Rose said, curtsying and hurrying out of the room, her 
hands too full of her clothes to rub her tender bottom. 

I could tell that she was disappointed that my daughters presence had 
meant that I couldn't allow her to orgasm as was my customary reward for 
obedience during punishment, but a wink from me let her know that I would 
be down later.   

Sarah cleared her throat and stood up her face flushed. "Will that be 
all, Father?" she asked softly, the glow still on her face and cheeks as 
she glanced at the table where young Rose had just been punished.
"I don't think so. Do you?" I asked her. She looked at me and licked her 
lips, her features glowing still further.  

"Please, Father. Please don't make me," she begged.

"Why have you returned?" I asked, changing the subject. "Why now?" I 
asked her abruptly, the thought being uppermost in my mind since her 
arrival back in the house after so many years. 

She left with child, and had overcome all of the difficulties that must 
have been presented to her, and yet now she has returned to a house that 
she clearly found distasteful.

"Why Sarah?" I pressed once more. 

She looked down licking her lips, her hands clasped tightly together as 
she swayed slightly.

"I'm with child again," she murmured, almost beyond my hearing. I sighed 
and leant back against the cabinet. 

"And the Father?" I asked.

She shrugged. "A married man who'll not acknowledge it," she told me 
softly, the heat on her face growing, no doubt in memory of the close 
embrace. 

I saw tears in her eyes and nodded my understanding.

"How long?" I asked. 

"Two, perhaps three months," she murmured.

"I shall take that into account," I assured her, reaching for the 
slimmest of my canes, a lovely piece of bamboo that gleamed with the 
polish that had been added to it.

"Father, please, no," she begged, a hand on her chest as her breath 
suddenly left her.

"It is this, or you leave once more," I told her.

"But Mother," she reminded me.

"Is dead," I cut her off. "She is dead and my decisions are final.

You will follow the rules of this house, as will Emily, or you will 
leave, tonight!" I told her.

"Father, please. I beg you, anything but that!" she whimpered, her eyes 
begging me like she had never begged before.

"For once, you will do as I tell you," I told her, enunciating every word 
with calm deliberation. "Now, what is it to be, the table, or the door?" 
I asked her.

"You know we cannot leave. We have nowhere else to go," she argued, 
quivering with her emotions.

"Then come to terms with your lot, as we all have to do in life, and 
remove that old and drab dress!" I ordered. 

She broke down and began to sob. I ignored her and curved the cane 
between my hands, testing its suppleness before flicking it through the 
air to listen to the whistle it made.  

While doing so, I watched her undress. It had been years since I had seen 
my daughter naked. 

Her body was no longer that of a young girl but that of a woman. Her 
breasts were now fully developed, and her nipples were surrounded by 
aureoles of burnished copper skin.

There was roundness to her belly, and stout hips that gave weight to her 
lovely bottom. She shyly covered the rich growth of pubic hair over her 
cunt, but not before I had spied the fullness of her labia, well curved 
and meshed together between curved thighs.  

Watching her clothes come off should have been more pleasurable than it 
was. It wasn't her sobbing that detracted me from the sight of her 
disrobing, or the way in which she tried to hide her lovely charms. 

It was the poor quality of her clothing that I found so alarming, and the 
fact that she was wearing no undergarments. I snorted, looking at her 
nakedness and noticing the odd bruise and the many small cuts and 
abrasions caused through poorly fitting corsets.

"I'll have my tailor call tomorrow," I told her gruffly. "Those you can 
burn!" I said, pushing her discarded clothes aside with the tip of the 
cane. "Now! Get over here, thighs apart, hands holding the far side of 
the table!" I ordered. 

Her sobbing lost some of its restraint as she shuffled to the table, the 
hands that were so diligently covering her pubis moving away at the very 
last moment.

"Thighs further apart!" I told her, prodding her with the tip of the cane 
and no doubt adding to her bruising. With a renewed weeping, she shuffled 
her thighs apart, aiding her upper body to lie flat upon the table, 
compressing her breasts into the cold and polished surface.

Her full and fleshy cunt now unfurled, dark tinted folds parting to 
reveal the bright pink interior. Her weeping provided a backdrop to her 
exposure as I revelled in her humiliation.

"You will count the strokes," I told her, taking my place at her side and 
tapping the last six inches of the slim cane across the fullness of her 
bottom.

"Father, please, please," she sobbed.

"Father, now, is it?" I murmured as I lifted the cane. 

It hesitated in the air as I concentrated on the point I wished it to 
land, and then I brought it down hard, the impact making it bend and dig 
into her flesh before rebounding. 

She screamed and contorted, the welt appearing across her full pale 
bottom, the colour quickly brightening it.

"So! Even under punishment, you refuse to obey," I teased, admiring her 
secret charms as she erotically squirmed in an effort to lessen the pain 
building in her bottom.

"No, no Father, I forgot!" she cried. "One, one, oh please, one!" she 
wept, as fresh hot tears dropped onto the polished table. 

Placing the cane on her bottom, I slid it over the raised welt that 
crisscrossed the cheeks, and then tapped it upon the virgin flesh I 
wished to mark next. 

Her weeping shook her bottom, and the rise of the cane from against her 
flesh brought her head up, in addition to tightening her thighs and 
bottom cheeks most agreeably. Once again, I let the cane hover, holding 
it until my daughter turned her beseeching eyes towards me, sparkling 
with her unshed tears. 

Only then did I let it sweep down, whistling through the air to cut into 
her fleshy bottom cheeks most harshly and release another howl of pain 
into the room.

"Two!" she screamed, gripping the table's edge and stamping her feet as 
the pain raged through her bottom. The second stroke produced a most 
agreeable welt, brightening to the point of glowing, the skin near to 
being cut.

"Please, Father!" she wept.

"It's a little late for familiarity, isn't it?" I asked, sneaking the 
cane out from under my hand to caress the twin welts, then to slide it 
along from beginning to end.

"Please! It hurts," she wept, trembling as she tried not to move as I 
used the tip to carefully part her bottom cheeks and examine what had 
been partially hidden, her dark ringed anus.

"So! Did he take you back there too?" I asked, watching the dark ring 
clench under my gaze.

"You disgust me!" she sobbed.

The cane swept up and down, the power of my anger behind it, and her 
screech rent the air, hesitating for a moment as she re-filled her lungs 
before continuing while she danced, gripping her bottom and squirming 
upon the table's edge.

"I disgust you?" I marvelled. "You who have slept with a married man with 
little regard for the end results of the union, and you say I disgust 
you. Now! Get your hands away from your bottom," I ordered, shaking with 
anger.

"Please, Father, oh, please don't!" she wept, shaking like an autumn leaf 
as her hands crept from her lined bottom. 

The cane whistled a most satisfying note as it sliced through the air on 
its way down, it's landing depressing the skin then rebounding to leave a 
line that swiftly rose and brightened. 

Sarah screamed and contorted, kicking her legs and weeping like a little 
girl, just as she had done all those many years ago when my discipline 
were just part of her education.

I sucked in a deep and steadying breath and watched her maul her bottom, 
continuing to toss and squirm as the dreadful pain burnt steadily into 
her.  
"So! How much do you want to stay?" I asked.

Still weeping uncontrollably, and squirming from the last strike of the 
cane, she reached between her thighs to fumble with her fleshy lips, 
parting herself until at last, she showed me the pulsing hole into her 
vagina. I stared at her quivering form, inhaling as I took delight in her 
submission to me.

"Just how much?" I asked.

Turning her head away, she delicately pulled her bottom cheeks apart and 
dipping her back, offered up the stretched flange of her anus for my 
taking.

"Is that it?" I asked, prodding the soft skin that bordered it with the 
tip of the cane.

Her crying rose to new heights of abandonment as her legs gave way, and 
she dropped to her knees on the rug that covered the polished 
floorboards. 

There, half blind by the tears that ran down her face, she crawled 
towards me, tears dribbling onto her breasts and running down her 
nipples, giving them a gleam I knew she hadn't intended. 

None the less, she looked perfectly delectable as she crawled upon her 
knees towards me, sniffing and weeping, until at last she stopped in 
front of me. Looking up at me beseechingly, her hands scrambled at my 
trousers, blindly searching for the buttons of my fly.

"Please, don't hurt me anymore," she whimpered. She found me erect within 
my tweed trousers and she began to rub urgently, her breath quickening as 
she licked her lips in readiness.

I pushed her away and scowled. 

"Do you think I want second hand goods?" I asked with scorn. "Do you 
think I want you now that you have been discarded by others?" I asked 
with spite, watching her sob with utter dejection upon the floor.

"Father, please," Sarah begged.

"Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning," I told her, marching past her 
bent form to put the cane away.

Still weeping, Sarah gathered her clothes and crept out, the sound of her 
crying continuing as she climbed the stairs, and onwards until her door 
closed behind her. 

Silence took over again, and I could sit in contemplation of the day as 
the grandfather clock ticked quietly in the background. Then, as the 
clock chimed midnight I opened the door under the main stairs and descend 
to the servant quarters. 

The rooms were empty, except for the small one used by my maid. Cook no 
longer lived in, but arrived early each morning and left when her duties 
had finished.

The handle to Rose's bedroom door turned easily, and the door opened 
without a sound. An oil lamp dimply lit the room, and in particular the 
bedside table and the small bed. 
Rose lay under the covers, her large brown eyes watching as I closed the 
door quietly behind me and stepped towards her.

"Let me see," I ordered. 

Being the obedient young girl she was, Rose pushed the covers off and 
turned onto her knees. Then gathering her thick nightgown she removed her 
nightwear and pushed her bottom out for inspection.

It looked small compared to my daughter's, but I refused to think of her, 
and concentrated instead on making sure that I hadn't hurt my maid too 
much. It is one thing to educate, another to chastise, and yet quite 
another to hurt them so that they aren't able to work the next day.

Examining her up-thrust bottom, I stroked the smooth firm cheeks to 
satisfy myself that they had only been tenderised, then I urged her to 
part her thighs so I could examine the lovely soft inner surface, 
stroking gently as I did.

"No longer in pain?" I asked, pulling her lovely bottom cheeks fully 
apart to look at the burnished skin I had produced, and deeper in the 
crease, the wrinkled flange of her anus that was now winking at me in 
trepidation.

"It burns, Sir," she mumbled, her face hidden in her bedcovers.

"Perhaps a little ointment will help!" I suggested, straightening so I 
could better undo my trousers.

"Whatever Sir thinks best," Rose muttered softly, turning her head so a 
single brown eye could silently watch my trousers part and my shirt tail 
slip aside. My stout cock sprang out ready to do battle again. I raised a 
foot onto her bed and roughly pulled her towards my crotch, then 
positioned my hands on her hips to hold her.

"Where shall I ride you to?" I asked, lowering myself to her dainty cunt 
and pressing at the right moment to feel the hot little walls surround my 
head.

"To Canterbury, Sir," Rose said, panting as she stretched around me.

"All the way to Canterbury then!" I told her, pressing myself home to 
feel myself submerge in her hot tightness. 

The girl was a pleasure, and I eased her back and forth as I moved, 
bringing her to meet my inward thrust and pushing her away as I drew 
practically out again.

"We're trotting," I breathed, pushing back and forth and having the 
pleasure of seeing her parted bottom moving back and forth above my 
gleaming piston. She clutched at the covers and panted, her tapered back 
dipped as she fought to have all of my cock enter her hotness.

"Are we there yet?" I asked, the pleasure beginning to rise from my loins 
and warming my chest. She shook her head breathlessly, her body rocking 
to my thrusts.

"Then we'll canter!" I told her, and quickened our pace, her juices 
allowing me to slide smoothly back and forth.

"I see it, I see it!" she squealed.

"See Canterbury?" I puffed. Her sexual heat had engulfed me and the slick 
friction of our parts was swelling and rising, a sweet craving that 
demanded I quicken.

"Let's gallop!" I cried, our flesh slapping together as I rode hard to 
our conclusion.

We arrived at the town at the same time, both rider and mount crying out 
with the pleasure of a good ride. My cock swelled and jumped as it 
joyously spurted, her walls clinging vibrantly to the shaft until, all 
done, she relaxed to let me leave.

Patting her lovely bottom as she straightened, I turned to leave and 
stopped for a moment to wonder how her bedroom door could have become 
ajar without my noticing. 

Promising to get the carpenter in to mend it, I left her and climbed the 
stairs, my duty to staff and family complete for another day.

******

Emily was the first to wake. I could hear her running back and forth on 
the landing, that is until Rose tried to calm the child and urge her to 
be quite.

"Stop that! You'll wake the Master, and he'll be cross!" she warned.

Silence returned, but only for a short while, and then there was more 
noise as the child bounced upon her bed, doing so with such strength that 
the headboard knocked annoyingly on our adjoining wall, ensuring that I'd 
get no more sleep. As I went to find out what was happening I met Sarah. 

"Father! I was just going to take Emily downstairs, out of your way," she 
murmured, her face burning with the knowledge of my displeasure and of 
what it meant for her.

"It's too late now!" I spat. Returning to my room I found that Rose had 
laid my clothes neatly out for me. 

Then a half hour later, I was in the dining room reading the paper as the 
clock in the hall chimed ten o'clock.

"Sorry about earlier, Sir," Rose murmured as she served breakfast.

"Have you arranged for my tailor to visit today?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir, he will be arriving at midday," she replied.

"Good! Now go about your business, I will be checking your progress later 
on," I warned.

"Yes, Sir," she said, curtsying and hurrying out of the dining room.

I read the Times while I ate, and then ambled through to the parlour to 
sit beside the window while I strived at the crossword. As usual, it was 
confoundedly difficult, and not aided by the squealing that came from the 
garden. Giving up on trying read my paper, I watched Sarah play with 
Emily.

They looked happy and carefree, Emily in particular. Her name suited her, 
I thought, but she looked little like her mother, and caused me to wonder 
whom the Father might have been.

At eleven, the child was developing nicely, but my tailor would have to 
take her measurements as well and provide her with something more 
appealing than what she currently wore I decided. 

I watched them playing for a while then the heat of the sun through the 
window and the lack of sleep made me close my eyes and before I knew it 
my maid was shacking me awake to tell me that my tailor had arrived. 

The little man, balding and with a little pair of glasses fixed to his 
nose, bobbed up and down with his pleasure at being summoned to see me. 

Rose went to fetch Sarah and Emily and I explained what I required.

"Oh, ah, I see," he mumbled, flexing his neck as if his collar had 
suddenly become too tight. "I'm afraid that there's been a bit of a 
misunderstanding," he told me, his body withering under my stare.

"How so?" I asked, trying to appear outwardly calm while Sarah and Emily 
entered, their cheeks still glowing from their exercise.

"Ah well! You see I'm on my own, thinking it was you, my Lord, who needed 
a fitting. Had I known it was to be ladies, then of course, I would have 
brought a lady to help them with their measurements," he explained.

"I'm sure I can count on you confidentiality," I replied with a wink.

"Well of course, my lord," he mumbled, his Adam 's apple bobbing up and 
down from his collar. "Not a word will pass my lips," he told me, his 
eyes gliding towards mother and daughter. 

Sarah paled as she understood what was to occur, and Emily's face burned, 
as she too started to understand, her eyes darting all about her to see 
just who would be witness to her ordeal. Like mother, like daughter, I 
thought, watching their expressions closely as they came to understanding 
just what I intended.

"Sarah, he will attend to you first, so that Emily may know what to do," 
I told her. "Do not disappoint me, my girl," I warned softly.

She flinched at my words, and yet drew her daughter to one side so that 
she might step forward, towards the eagerly waiting man. 

He jumped at the chance to assist her with the little hooks and eyes of 
the bodice of her dress, and I could see his eyes drinking in the 
paleness of her back as the material drew away. She held it to her at the 
front, her eyes fluttering as her face burnt, but when our eyes met for a 
moment, I saw her understanding of what she would receive from me if she 
didn't obey, and let the dress fell away.

"My word!" the man intoned. His eyes stared at my daughter's bottom where 
bruised lines crossed her cheeks, two of them much brighter in colour 
than the others. 

"Just deal with the measurements, if you please," I told him.

Emily I noted, was horrified by the state of her mother's bottom and her 
young and inquisitive eyes turned towards me, her mouth half open as she 
started to realise that, if necessary, I wouldn't hesitate to punish her 
little bottom in the same way.

He took the measurement of my daughter's breasts, his nimble fingers 
ensuring the tape ran across her nipples, adjusting the tape as the 
growing points pushed it off, either down or up. 

At last, and breathless, he had the measurement and continued to her 
waist. Bending to read the tape, his head came level with her breasts and 
his eyes fairly bulged at the closeness to her full gourds, their 
fullness in part a result of her pregnancy. 

I watched, intrigued by the interplay of expressions upon everyone's 
faces as he knelt down to slide the tape about her hips. 

His nimble fingers brought the tape together over the crisp curls of her 
Venus Mount, and I watched with a smile as Sarah struggled to remain 
still, her blushes never hotter and her anguish in plain sight upon her 
face.

"Will you need her leg measurements?" I asked, as he stood again, a 
finger trying to ease the restriction of his starched collar while his 
beady little eyes were drawn to my daughter's nakedness once more.

"Leg measurements, Sir? Well, yes, I suppose so," he murmured, and his 
eyes fairly bored into the press of her thighs.

"And is it not customarily to take the measurement from the top of the 
inner thigh?" I asked.

"Ah, yes, certainly," he agreed, hurrying down to his knees now that he 
knew I wouldn't disapprove.

"Come now, Sarah," I chided, smiling at the working of her face as she 
struggled to control herself.

She succumbed, as I knew she would, and my smile no doubt furthered her 
hot blushes as, her thighs apart, she allowed him to place the tip of his 
tape up against the curve of her vulva, and then measure the distance to 
her ankle, his eyes unwillingly having to leave her crotch to do so.

"Very good," I smiled and turned towards Emily, who had been watching 
enthralled with an open mouth and a glowing face as the measurements were 
taken.

"Come now Emily! You want a pretty new dress, don't you?" I asked.

She nodded shyly, towards her mother. 

"And pretty under-things, silk and lace, of the softest of cottons?" I 
asked, picturing the girl in the smallest, most revealing of lace draws, 
and a pretty vest that would irritate her budding nipples to leave them 
sharp as two points.

"Don't let me down now! Emily. Be brave for you mother," I ordered.

Sarah agreed, nodding her permission and waving the girl forward so she 
could help her. She stepped forward, drawing her hair apart at the back 
so her mother could undo the hook and eye at her neck, and begin parting 
her dress. 

Emily blushed prettily towards me as she stepped out of the faded 
material, only an old, worn and torn shift now remaining, and the last 
veil to her virtue. It had buttons that ran down the back and once 
undone, allowed her to shrug it forward, off her arms and down her lovely 
body.

Naked, the child looked divine. Her tiny breasts had begun to form, no 
more than small cones on which her pink nipples stood. Her belly retained 
its roundness, while lower down, slender young hips gave a little extra 
weight to a lovely shaped little bottom. Sarah turned her, allowing me to 
see her front where her belly sank towards the meeting of her thighs, 
revealing a sparsely covered font of wispy hairs.

One day, no doubt, she would have the same luxurious growth that her 
mother displayed, but for the moment, the shortest, finest hairs had 
begun to darken, rising from the apex of her folded lips to create the 
prettiest of shapes upon her ivory toned flesh.

"Now Emily! Stand straight, so the man can take your measurements," I 
ordered as, blushing most adorably, her little hands hesitantly went to 
cover herself.

The tailor eagerly jumped to the task, an erection clearly visible in his 
trousers, and his breath sounding hot and laboured as he turned the child 
this way and that. In doing so, he surreptitiously fondled her budding 
breasts and the growing fullness of her bottom, before slyly moving his 
fingers back and forth between her thighs watching her expression as he 
awakened strange new feelings within the child.

"I think that is enough," I warned him, as Sarah looked beseechingly 
towards me, Emily having risen to her toes, her breath shortening as his 
fingers flitted between her cunt and anus seeking the moisture of her 
essence for their perfume and taste.

******

Sarah remained subdued for the rest of the day although little Emily was 
quite the opposite. She shrugged off her ordeal in just moments, once she 
learnt that it would only be a day or two before the first of her new 
clothes would arrive.

Her eyes lit up with excitement when she heard that there would be loose 
fitting drawers of the finest damask silk, shifts of Arabic cotton and 
breast halters, her first, of the softest cotton from the North. 

Also that there would be woollen stockings, a little waist corset and 
dresses in the French style for her mother, so that her condition 
wouldn't show at least, not for a while longer.

The day wore on and evening descended. Fragrant smells rose from the 
kitchen to alert us that the time for dinner was fast approaching, and 
Rose rushed back and forth in her eagerness to ensure all was prepared in 
the dinning room. 

She could ill afford more failures; especially after my inspection early 
that afternoon had revealed her poor attempts at dusting the house.

Sarah entered the parlour clearly ill at ease, her hands rubbing together 
and her face pale. I put aside my paper and looked at her, once again 
unable to stop myself from wondering who had impregnated her, my 
imagination bringing the image of some hairy man labouring between her 
raised thighs, his body a terrible contrast to the pale beauty of her 
flawless skin.

"What ails you?" I asked abruptly.

"Father," she murmured, sitting on the edge of the settee, her back 
straight and her hands clasped on her lap. "Are you going to punish Emily 
for waking you this morning?" she asked.

"It had crossed my mind," I admitted. 

"She has never been punished before," she revealed.

"Never been punished," I marvelled. 

What a delicious prospect, I thought. Having to guide the child into 
position. What expressions would pass across that little face as she was 
taught to dip her back, part her thighs and push her bottom out.

"I will, of course, offer myself up for payment of her carelessness," 
Sarah murmured.

I chuckled and picked up my paper once more. 

"Your bottom will be too sore to substitute for Emily's, because I've not 
yet finished punishing you for you're past actions. Anyway, it's high 
time that child learnt to take responsibility for her actions," I argued.

"But Father," she pleaded, about to give me a dozen more reasons why I 
should use her as a substitute. I held my hand up, my attention on the 
newspaper in front of me.

"That's enough! Go before I use the carriage whip!" I warned her.

As Sarah strode out, trembling and with frustrated anger, it occurred to 
me that she had been without a man to steer her wayward nature for too 
long. This posed a problem, and I thought hard about it until the bell 
rang, announcing that dinner was ready.

The meal was a mix of emotions. Emily, quite obviously unaware of the 
tradition of punishment and sexual servitude that I insisted upon in this 
household, talked excitedly about her new clothes, the colours and the 
fabrics, and if she could have her hair styled, and whether they could go 
out for a walk, and so on, and so on.

Her mother answered her with short answers often glancing my way in the 
hope the child's exuberance would win me over. It didn't. As the coffee 
arrived, I took Rose by the arm to stop her hurrying off, and advised her 
to prepare the library for the four of us.

"I shall need plenty of room," I told her, watching her pretty face 
colour as she curtsied.

"Must I go to bed after dinner, Mama? Couldn't I stay up just a little 
while longer?" Emily pleaded.

Sarah licked her lips. "As it happens, your grandfather has invited you 
to the library after dinner. There are some things that he must impart to 
you," she murmured.

"What sort of things, Grandfather?" she asked, all curiosity and 
inquisitiveness.

"Things pertaining to your role in life my girl," I told her. "You are a 
Bennett, and that means Honour, Education and forbearance!" I explained.

"And you'll teach me all these things, Grandfather?" she asked.

"Oh yes," I told her, smiling at the image in my mind. 

Emily was just the right height to be positioned so that her lovely 
bottom cheeks would part and colour deliciously under the barrage of 
implements at my disposal.

"Shall we go through and commence?" I asked Sarah.

"I can't persuade you to change your mind?" she asked, her voice soft 
with the wealth of her feeling as her fingers rose to the neck of her 
dress, a little gesture that Emily wouldn't understand but which told me 
that Sarah would do anything to save Emily from being punished.

"She must learn, just as you had to learn," I explained, failing to see 
why my daughter was so against Emily being punished. Surely she knew that 
rarely if ever were my implements used to cause real pain but just to 
educate.

"Come along! It doesn't do to keep the staff waiting," I told her.

We went through to the library where Rose was already waiting for us, 
standing as she'd been taught, with her shinny black slippers tightly 
together and her hands on the starched apron tied tightly about her 
waist. Her hair was bound under the little white cap but could fall to 
the small of her back, once released.

"Now then," I said, mostly for the benefit of Emily who, on entering the 
room, had rushed to sit in my favourite chair. I closed the door and they 
gave me their full attention.

"As the most senior member of this household it is my responsibility to 
educate those in my charge and to help them to further improve in their 
roles," I explained. "Rose here, wants to be an accomplished housekeeper 
and therefore must learn to manage this household to my satisfaction," I 
told them.

"How have you done today, Rose?" I asked. 

The girl chewed her bottom lip for a moment, clearly disappointed in her 
achievements.

"My dusting was poor, Sir," she answered.

"Indeed," I agreed.

I strode over to the cabinet, extracting the small key from my breast 
pocket. Emily watched with great interest, Rose with an expression of 
real concern, as I opened the doors to reveal the implements within.

"Now then! Inadequate dusting," I murmured to myself, hovering over 
several implements while Rose watched in anticipation. 

I settled on a strap, a simple band of leather some eighteen inches long 
and an inch and a quarter wide. Some of the straps were only an inch 
wide, but I felt that the extra quarter of an inch made all the 
difference. The leather was of good quality, thick and supple, and a much 
better alternative to using my hand. Rose probably didn't hold with my 
opinion as she licked her lips.
 
"Prepare yourself!" I ordered.

"You see!" I told Emily, diverting her wide-open eyes from the site of 
Rose's undressing. "It has long been known that young girls, need a spur 
to help them to excel," I argued.

"Whereas! Under your tutorage," Sarah remarked.

"She strives to excel!" I replied, angry by Sarah's interruption.

Emily's curious eyes quickly returned to watch as Rose removed her 
uniform. Blushing under our combined attention my maid dutifully put her 
hands behind her back, and then shuffled her feet apart as she had been 
taught.

"Good girl!" I said, slapping the strap against the side of my leg just 
to hear the pleasant sound it made. 

Rose curtsied and moved her thighs apart, enough to expose her young cunt 
whose lips were always so willing to divide around my cock, and ride long 
and hard all the way to Canterbury. 

Parting her thighs even further she moved to the edge of the table and 
bent forward over it, her breath now short and sharp as she rested her 
lower arms along the polished surface.

"Now! You will notice that she parts her thighs and dips her back," I 
told Emily, running the edge of the strap up her inner thighs to just 
below her exposed cunt.

"This is how I check for cleanliness!" I explained, watching Emily's 
expression change as my fingers parted the cheeks of Rose's bottom and 
slid along the cleft, where she quivered and panted as I traced her anal 
aperture. 

Inhaling the fragrance, I nodded my approval and savoured the taste 
before confirming my satisfaction.

"Rose cleans herself at least twice a day," I told a wide-eyed Emily. 

Emily blushed and looked toward her mother. "Will I need to wash twice a 
day too, Mama?" she asked softly.

"When you are ready," Sarah told her, her expression unreadable.

"Now then!" I said, holding the strap out to caress Rose's offered 
bottom, sliding the leather over the firm young cheeks while, just below, 
her cunt hung suspended for all to see and admire.

"Six!" I announced and Rose groaned as I raised the strap to deliver the 
first stroke.

It was high up on her bottom but her flesh not being at its fullest there 
smarted, hence the gasp, as she clenched the cheeks to absorb the pain.

I waited for her to push her bottom out again, with her back properly 
dipped. Then, as soon as she was ready, I delivered the next, aiming that 
little bit lower in order to produce two bright parallel lines with a 
narrow piece of pale pink skin between them. 

Rose probably didn't appreciate my artistry or my marksmanship as she 
hissed through her teeth. The second stroke scolded her flesh and had her 
bottom rotating in the most delightful of ways.

The third was just above the apex of her bottom, and my stroke was 
somewhat harder as a result. Her little sob spoke of her pain, but our 
eyes were held by the way she clenched her thighs together for a few 
moments, squirming on one leg and panting loudly as she tried her best to 
overcome the surge of sensations entering her lower body.

"Come along now!" I urged.  

With a whimper, she took up her station once more and I stroked the 
underside of her bottom, drawing the strap back so the tip could gently 
caress the light hairs sprinkled upon her vulva, drawing our attention to 
how her cunt had brightened since her punishment had commenced.

"The fourth then," I said. I added to the pattern revealing itself on her 
bottom, the stroke taking Rose's breath before she regained it to howl 
and dance in place, panting as the surge of sensation swept into her 
loins, her belly and chest.

"Only two more," I murmured, caressing her with the strap while she shook 
and lowered her upper body for me. I made her wait, listening to her 
whimper and watching her shake.

My audience said nothing, but sat so alike, their backs straight and 
their hands clenched in their laps. Emily's clasped hands actually 
pressed inwards in a most un-lady like fashion, and I made a note to test 
her, wondering to what degree she could moisten.

When I raised the strap again, it was to do so slowly, my attention on 
that of Rose as her breathing quickened and her trembling grew.

"Steal yourself," I murmured, and she pushed her bottom out for me.

It landed perfectly, crossing both cheeks as they began to taper towards 
her thighs. The soft skin rippled as the leather struck and quickly 
brightened, half masked by Rose's hands as she reached back with a loud 
cry and frantically rubbed her raging flesh.

"One more!" I reminded her.

"Yes Sir, yes Sir, thank you, Sir," she gasped, reluctantly pulling her 
hands away to bend once more for me and if she shook before, she fairly 
quaked now.  

Sarah reached for Emily and pulled her up onto her lap, surrounding her 
in her arms as she quivered with the sight of Rose's educational 
punishment.
 
The last stroke remained, and it would be delivered at the very base of 
the girl's bottom, where the cheeks divided to permit her cunt to curve 
outward. 

Panting, mewing and shaking, Rose waited; flinching as I tapped the area 
I was about to strike. 

Emily watched from within her mother's embrace, mesmerised by Rose's 
punishment, and Sarah was no less distracted by kissing the back of her 
daughter's neck as she too watched and waited. 

I raised the strap and Rose whimpered. It made no difference to the end 
result. The strap sped down to land upon the softest of bottom flesh, 
impacting loudly and solidly, solidly enough to bend inwards and land 
directly on her moistening cunt.

Rose's cry was driven out of her with the force of the landing. Her hands 
sped between her thighs to caress her vulva, rubbing madly at the 
smarting flesh while the heat in her lovely bottom raged.

Stepping back, I let Emily and her mother view the sight of the maid 
striving to lessen the swelling pain in her rear. Her rubbing had not 
helped, so she squeezed her flesh and pulled at it, whimpering and 
panting, squirming uncontrollably while she did so.

It was certainly an entertaining sight, and I let her continue for a 
while, certain of its instructional value for Emily, before ordering her 
to desist and to stand in the corner of the room, facing the wall with 
her hands on her head.

That was where Rose stayed, her bottom tossing and turning with my 
inspired heat, until I told Emily to stand so her mother could rise and 
step towards me.

"And your misdeeds?" I asked my daughter.

She licked her lips, her eyes blinking as she forced herself not to look 
at Rose softly whimpering with the insidious sensations flowing through 
her loins in the corner.

"I have failed to give you the respect that you deserve," she noted. 

I nodded in agreement, hiding my surprise at her change in attitude.

"What punishment do you think you deserve for your lapse?" I asked, 
moving over to the cabinet to replace the strap, and wait for her 
suggestion. 

There was a delight in watching her marvel at my fine collection of 
educational implements, the colour coming and going from her face in 
waves.

I wondered at her thoughts as she licked her lips and looked away from 
the cabinet towards me.

"The cane, Father," she breathed. "The thin one," she added.

I hesitated, wondering if she was certain, but took it down to hold and 
bend it while, nearby, Emily stared in open-mouthed horror.

"No mummy, you can't, you can't!" she wept, all of a sudden running 
forward to capture her mother around her skirts. 

Sarah pried herself loose and knelt beside her weeping daughter, her eyes 
momentarily stopping on my own to silently beg my patience.

I gave it, albeit unwillingly. 

As I cast the thin cane through the air to hear its shrill whistle, Sarah 
explained to her daughter that sometimes such things had to be endured. 
Emily nodded her understanding and let her mother lead her over to the 
little armchair she had once used as a child. 

As Sarah stepped from her fallen skirts to stand naked before me, her 
face glowed. Her hands fairly shook as she refused to cover herself, and 
I permitted myself a moment of pleasure, looking at the full and heavy 
gourds of her breasts, her slightly rounded belly and the full thatching 
that covered her delightful cunt.

"You know the position," I told her.

She stepped to the table and shuffled her feet apart, continuing to 
broaden her stance until her waist was low enough to allow her to bend 
forward and rest her elbows on the table. Bowing her head, she dipped her 
back and thrust her bottom out erotically, and directly towards her 
seated daughter.

I smiled at Emily as she stared wide-eyed at her mother's bottom and the 
full-lipped cunt hanging like a ripe fruit, the curls creating a pleasant 
mask to the vermillion gash that slowly opened to our gaze.

"Three! To compliment those of last night," I said, letting the cane 
slide over the fading welts and prodding one cheek from the other so that 
Emily might have a chance to view her mother's clenching anus.

"What ever you decide, Father," Sarah murmured.

"Have you remembered my early education in cleanliness?" I asked.

Emily's breath was as loud as her mother's as, with the cane under my 
arm, I held her still so I could edge my finger between her full lips to 
savour the warmth and sticky wetness of her cunt. Smeared with her 
essence, I then drew my finger back, grazing her vaginal mouth before 
seeking the entrance of her anus.

It clenched against the invasion of my fingertip. I didn't force the 
issue, but drew it out to lift the coated finger to my nose to inhale the 
pleasant mixture of scents, and enjoy the taste, wondering if her 
pregnancy had contributed anything to the rich flavour that now filled my 
mouth.

"Good and clean," I announced while also listening to my daughter recover 
her breath.
 
I tapped the thin cane with vigour preparing her for the punishment she 
deserved. Then it came, delayed by a fraction as I swung it back and 
brought it down with some force.

Ah, how her fulsome bottom dented under the impact then bounced back, the 
red line already appearing, moments before her loud scream and 
uncontrolled squirming began.

"Do you think your mother is learning her lesson?" I asked Emily.

Little Emily nodded, her wide eyes staring at her mother's offered bottom 
as it swayed back and forth, tossing with the need to dispel the fiery 
heat flowing into it.

I chuckled and placed the cane back against Sarah's still squirming 
bottom. Like a signal, it quietened her, bringing her burning bottom to 
stillness while her panting and shaking raged on.

"Just two more," I told her.

I teased her with both the words and deeds as I stroked and lightly 
slapped the cane upon her bottom, admiring the marks I had already placed 
upon her, as much as the smooth virginal skin that had yet to be marked.  

A whimper came from the young woman, and I could quite imagine her 
misgivings as, having felt the shock of the first cut, she now knew she 
had to endure two more. 

The second was not long in coming. The rapid little slaps against her 
bottom hardened, bringing her up onto her toes and, at that point, I 
delivered the second harsh stroke.

The shock of the pain was there to see in her expression, in her wide and 
unfocused eyes and her open yet silent mouth. It was there in the way she 
swayed forward and gripped the far side of the table. 

Then, moments later, the keen of anguish escaped her tense throat, 
lasting for as long as her breath before she had to stop and inhale, a 
deep and shuddering breath.

The second line was vivid upon her full and weighty bottom, crossing both 
cheeks and lifting the soft skin to create a beautiful and tender welt 
that would last for days.

"One more," I murmured, eager to see her bottom with all three lines upon 
its surface, all three vivid and bright, laid over the softly bruised 
remnants of the previous night's punishment.

"Please, not so hard," she whimpered.

"Do you want to learn?" I asked sternly. She took another shuddering 
breath, steadying herself before dipping her back and presenting me with 
her bottom once more.

The third would run below the last two and mark the tender underside of 
her bottom. The touch of the cane warning her and her breathing 
quickened. It tapped gently, my eyes sliding past it to the pouting cunt 
hanging so accessible between her thighs.

"You may relieve yourself," I told her.
 
For a moment she was still, just her panting to tell me that she had 
heard. Then her hand appeared between her thighs to press flattened 
fingers to her vulva and roughly pull the flesh back and forth, as a 
comfort against the third stroke that had yet to come.

I let Emily watch her mother masturbate shamelessly, rotating her fingers 
more and more aggressively against the pulpy flesh of her cunt, and I 
just knew from the look on the child's face that she understood perhaps 
from own experience what her mother was doing.

Only then did I strike, the cane kissing her bottom like the strike of an 
snake, quick and sharp, to have her crying out and struggling with the 
pain, her hand working fervently upon her cunt while the welt blossomed 
upon her pale bottom cheeks.

"Stand!" I ordered. 

Sarah stood; whimpering softly, her face and breasts glowing, and her 
nipples standing like sentries at their posts. 

"Well done," I told her, putting the cane aside. "Now! Do you want to 
assist with Emily's punishment, or to stand in the corner along side Rose 
and just listen to her screams?" I teased.

"I'll help," she whispered, reluctantly removing her fingers.

"Emily" Come here," I ordered. "Tell me! Have you done anything that 
requires punishment?" I asked curtly. 

Sarah knelt at her daughter's side and whispered in her ear, knowing that 
failing to mention something she had done wrong would certainly result in 
a much harsher punishment. Emily listened attentively and licked her 
lips, her blushing face turning pale. 

"I made too much noise this morning, waking you and disturbing the 
household," she mumbled.

"Yes, you did! What punishment do you think that merits?" I asked.

Emily cast a glance at the discarded cane and licked her lips.

"The cane?" she replied, her voice quiet with her anxiety.

"No! Perhaps if you were to repeat your mistake, I might use it, but not 
for your first offence," I explained.

I stepped over to the cabinet and cast an eye over what implements I had 
at my disposal. There were, among the items in my collection, a number of 
lighter implements, some of which I hadn't used since Sarah was a little 
girl. 

They were a scaled down version of the other implements. Half sized and 
much more tender, as they struck with a far different sensation to the 
fiery pain and throbbing heat of the others. I settled on the martinet 
and watched as Sarah licked her lips with the memory of its ability to 
seek out even the most delicate of places.

"Come! Let's get you ready!" Sarah murmured breathlessly, turning her 
daughter to reach for the top button of her dress.

As I fetched the child's armchair and placed it next to the table, I 
watched as Sarah undressed Emily, taking a rare delight in her pale and 
slender body that appeared from under her old and worn clothes.

"Now! You must be good and stay still," Sarah said as she turned the 
child's back towards me and, in doing so; gave me the opportunity to 
feast my eyes upon the lovely little bottom I was about to whip. 

Emily glanced towards me, her eyes large and fearful as her mother drew 
her nervously towards the armchair and then helped her to climb up and 
place a knee on each arm as she had done when she was a child.

Much too small to rest on her elbows, she pressed her tummy to the cold 
surface of the table, and whimpered, as she realised that the position 
had left her so rudely exposed.

I caressed the soft strands of the martinet and recalled the last time I 
had used it upon Sarah. I had made her lie on her back in the same 
armchair, her knees held to her chest, unwittingly offering her cunt and 
anus to the kiss of the same little whip.

Now it was going to tickle the little bottom of my granddaughter and, 
possibly, if my aim was true, strike her cunt and anus just like her 
mother's so many years ago.

"Be brave sweetheart!" Sarah murmured, kneeling beside her daughter and 
stroking her hair.

I watched as Sarah stroked the child's hair, then my attention turned to 
her delightful little bottom, now so widely parted and without the fatty 
underside to obscure her finely curved pudendum.

The martinet was soft, and probably the softest I possessed. Yet by 
holding it by the end I could put pressure on the handle to release the 
strands and add strength to my stroke, enough to have the little girl 
gasping and squirming as they sent darting sensations into her cunt and 
anus.

It was a picture to remember, moving from one side of her to another to 
attack her from different angles. Sarah stopped her from rising or 
reaching back, as she tossed and turned, her attempts to hide herself 
forgotten, the sensations she felt soon turned to a lingering pain.

Sarah held her wrists and comforted her, telling her to relax and allow 
it to pass through her, to absorb the heat and rise with it.

My strikes moved and the tips darted in rapidly to bring pain to the soft 
flesh between her thighs. Her hips rotated with a new vigour as she tried 
in vein to rid herself of the tingling sensations swarming through her. 

Startled gasps escaped her throat; followed by high-pitched squeals as 
new sensations raged in her cunt. I knelt behind her and flicked the 
martinet across the base of her bottom, the strands now finding her anus 
and bringing new sensations. 

Each stroke brought a new cry, followed by loud attempts to recover her 
breath while her body shook and squirmed. 

I aimed lower, and her cunt received the full force of the whip.  

"Mummy!" she squealed, as she tossed and turned failing to escape neither 
the second stroke, nor the third or fourth, her tender skin beginning to 
glow and open. 

I stood, my own breath laboured from the sight of her prettiness so 
exposed.

"Teach her to relieve herself," I told Sarah.
 
Sarah swallowed and released Emily's wrist, murmuring instructions to her 
on what to do. Emily didn't hesitate, her thoughts too clouded by the 
burning sensations to consider just how naughty she was going to be.

Whatever the circumstances, her fingers quickly slipped between her 
thighs just as she had seen her mother do. In moments, spurred on by her 
mother's soft whispers, she was masturbating, whimpering in her need and 
gasping as she found some pleasure at last to defer the pain.

I spurred her on, flicking the martinet lightly against that area of her 
body where anus and cunt gathered. Gasping, her fingers redoubled their 
efforts, her bottom lifting in an effort to give her the space to 
masturbate effectively.

I sensed her need and delivered the last flick of the martinet, then 
stood still to hear her wail, and to listen to her mother praise her 
actions. 

She had done better than her mother when she was her age and I nodded my 
understanding before telling them to gather their clothes and go to bed.

Alone with my maid, I examined the results of my efforts, probing the 
still blushing flesh and forcing her thighs apart in order to uncover the 
wetness within.

"What a sinful girl you are!" I murmured, anointing my fingers with her 
slippery warm wetness.

"May I pray, Sir," she asked, her breath caught in her throat as my 
finger massaged the little corrugated ring of her anus.

"Pray well," I advised. 

As Rose dropped to her knees and swivelled towards me I felt a drop in 
room temperature but soon put it to the back of mind. 

Looking up at me, lest my face show any displeasure or such like, she 
reached for my trousers, her agile fingers working with precision to open 
each button and leave the fabric agape. 

With a deft touch, she released my cock, and then pressed her palms to 
either side of it before bringing her mouth over the tip. Then, she 
mumbled her prayer, the movement of her lips and tongue having the affect 
I desired, stirring me into full hardness.

"That's it, girl. Pray that the devil doesn't engulf you. Pray that 
you'll learn obedience and deferment," I teased.

I closed my eyes and recalled the vivid images of the past moments, 
Emily's being the clearest and most vivid. 

I recalled the way she masturbated herself attempting with innocence to 
conquer her pain, the tendons of her thighs stretched painfully as they 
supported her knees astride the armchair.

"Ah, yes!" I hissed, pulsing with the release Rose had brought on.

The girl stopped her prayers to hastily drink the essence she had 
succoured, swallowing as it was jettisoned, until just the job of 
cleaning was left which her tongue did adequately.

"Good girl," I said.

Turning away I noticed the door slowly close. 

"Tomorrow I must see to the draft in here," I told her.