Photo-story from Janus 60
Alice waits as instructed, perched with passionate anxiety on the settee footrest, divested of all but her flimsiest white panties and bra. Virginal white. White pop socks emphasise rather than conceal the lissom girlish curves of ankles and calves. Like an untouched maiden she listens in longing laced with terror for the arrival of the one to whom she is such a willing slave; long blonde hair a-tumble, lips slackly parted.
The doorknob rattles, and every muscle tenses, rippling Alice’s flawless skin, clenching the dainty nether-rounds which will surely bear the brunt again of her beloved mistress’s firm-handed rebukes.
‘Stand up, little girl! At attention!’
Unlike her fictional namesake whom she curiously resembles, Alice is out of childhood now — the conflicting passions which honey her senses tell her that. Yet the authoritative clear-cut tones, unreachably upper-class and imperious, strike the simple girl to the heart. With blue eyes brimming with submissive intensity she rises, heels together and arms stiff to her sides like a heavenly sentry.
‘Hold your head up! UP!’ Selina, all in black with broad leather belt and high-heeled boots, stalks sternly up to her compliant handmaiden, forcing the other’s chin high. Then she sits aloofly on the spongy rest which has already been generously warmed by her acolyte’s pert young bottom. ‘Commence your duties,’ she raps.
It is Alice’s joy to serve Selina. It awes her to look at, to touch, this wonderfully superior being who, so utterly unlike herself, can deal confidently and capably with any situation in life’s bewildering jungle. Including men. How Selina makes them dance attendance, disdains or invites them according to whim! While she, Alice, is completely at sea with the alien creatures. A virgin indeed.
The brush glides with sensuous gentleness over the dark, trim-bunned hair; then, with great concentration so as not to smear, she lacquers the nails of those hands which know her so very well. Alice tints now, with lipstick, the autocratic mouth which feeds her fantasies with stern commands that make her quake all over with such perplexing delight.
Alice’s hand must not waver, or what is soon to follow as a part of their ritual will be that much harder to physically endure. Those boots must sparkle. It is the handmaiden’s job to sit at her mistress’s feet and buff the shinily creaking surfaces. As the duster rubs and glides. Working its way up the long sleek leg, Alice winces as a haughty heel digs deliberately into her shin-flesh. She sees this hint of displeasure as only right and just.
Selina now stands, eyes darkly smouldering. Her maiden has been neglectful of her duties. ‘Where are the furs?’
‘Oh Mistress,’ quakes the little voice. ‘I… I was going to bring them…’
‘That omission is worth three hard, crisp ones across your thigh-backs, little girl!’ comes the sharp rejoinder. ‘Bring the furs at once and place them on the settee. You know perfectly well that I like them there!’
Hastily, Alice does as bidden, stooping low in obeisance as she places the snug covers on the green floral seating to enhance Selina’s comfort. Then she resumes an alert posture, all too aware of what is to come, head dolefully dipped — yet her insides flicker with ardent fires that only this elegant, midnight-clad dominatrix is able to quench.
Selina, keenly watching her charge with a cold shrewd gaze, now draws a long thin cane from a vaseful of coloured grasses. From the corner of her eye Alice observes the movement. She begins to shiver. She cannot help herself. Her legs feel watery, her mouth has gone dry. Her mistress stalks to the settee and settles herself regally upon the furs. ‘Come here, Alice!’ she rasps ominously.
‘Y-yes, Mistress.’ The shivering girl turns, and takes up a rigidly respectful stance in front of this fellow-female so far above her in worldly status that her sensations are of worship as well as love.
‘Head up, for goodness sake!’ The fearfully lengthy, dreadfully pliant wand is jabbed suddenly beneath the girl’s chin, tipping it ceilingward. Two pairs of eyes meet: blue and flinching, dark and flint-hard. ‘Now, Alice,’ crisp the exquisitely enunciated tones, ‘would you care to give me a single good reason why you should not now receive six firm cuts with this cane across your naughty little backside?’
Alice quivers. Her buttock-muscles tense involuntarily, making the plumply-jutting hindquarters jump and twitch. A sheen of unshed tears glistens in her yielding eyes. She swallows hard, licks her lips. ‘N-no, I can’t, Mistress,’ she mumbles at last.
‘Pardon? Speak up!’
Alice sinks to her haunches, then stoops forward at her mistress’s feet in an attitude of submissive adoration. Emotions flood her, drowning out words. It is a homage to one so much greater than she regards herself, yet in part a plea to spare her too much pain. With the cane-tip teasing the back of the unsophisticated young woman’s neck, Selina sits gazing — herself much moved by the other’s devoted humility, yet aware too that mercy and gentleness are in neither heart at present. It gives her such a thrill to have her little girl completely in her power, her plaything, her charming human toy. For several minutes the two females maintain this attitude, pulses throbbing and senses melting. Then, with a creak of leather and a waft of sense-stunning perfume, Selina rises and indicates the foot-rest.
‘Kneel up on here, little girl,’ she snaps, ‘and present your buttocks to the cane!’
With tiny anxious whimpers Alice obeys, pressing her knees into the padded stool, arching her back, and leaning sacrificially forward to plant her hands on the fur-clad settee seat. This is always an anguishing moment for the demure girl, hearing her mistress take up a dominating stance to the right of her poised body. The slender wand which can inflict such shattering, cleansing pain is suddenly hovering before her face, and the quieter but no less stringent instruction falls on her flinching ears. ‘Kiss the cane before your punishment, my dear.’
Alice’s breath shudders in and out, her heart flutters, heat and cold prickle her trembling limbs — yet, with the soul-moving eagerness of an inexperienced lover her pursed lips press softly against the cool, whippy flagellator which will shortly be visiting her private posterior regions with such venomous authority. And, as the stick is removed from its brief, warm salutation, the girl clasps hands in a prayer to her divine goddess.
Selina gazes down at the beautiful prospect so utterly in her thrall. With knees bent and spine convexly arched, the tenderly curvaceous buttocks she never tires of lavishing her attentions upon jut high and tight into the air, the flimsy panties vanishing to the merest scrap between those darling bottom-cheeks which she loves to fondle, pamper and chastise. The twin ovoid domes atop the satiny thighs and knee-length hose, the sweetly deep crevasse flaring wider to the intimate maidenly bulge, are aesthetically alluring. Selina grips the cane more firmly and swings it high. The long shaft pauses with springy little quivers — and then, accompanied by a ladylike grunt of effort, it descends. Hard. It whispers, swishes, whistles as it accelerates through the air and meets the delicious, up-straining girl-arse with a resonant splat.
Even as this first stroke thrashes the air, an anticipatory scream rips from Alice’s throat, so when the stick makes contact she has barely enough breath for a gasped sob of undiluted anguish. Her body slumps flat on its stomach, limbs twitching, as a bright pink line bursts up to colour the initial white track caused by the impact on her silk-soft posteriors. Selina at once moves around to her sweet victim’s left-hand side and surveys the gasping body. The pertly rounded rumps are no longer steeply angled, and will afford a deeper bed for the cane to kiss. The long, pliant mentor rises for a second time, pauses at its vibrant apogee, then accelerates again towards its delightful target to smite snappily across the upper bottom-slopes with an impact of such stinging ferocity that Alice emits an explosive snort and grinds her teeth as she fights to absorb the shocking pain. Ahhh — how it burns!
Selina is rewarded by the sight of that luscious young bottom-flesh quivering and rippling, wobbling and settling, then lividly blushing as a fresh pain-streak appears. ‘Two,’ counts Alice’s mistress, moving to the other side of the trembling body once more to line up for the third robust delivery.
Alice can feel the furs fleecy against her belly, stimulating her erotically and sensuously warming her arms and breasts as her body writhes against them. It is this sensation, coupled with the fiery blasts screeching through her almost naked bottom-cheeks, that gives their ritual such agonising voluptuousness. Her tormented buttocks scald and throb — yet hungrily, somehow.
Hwaashh! The cane arcs downwards in a sizzling blur to splat another white-hot line across that eminently caressable bottom, causing the recipient to gasp, grinding her hips to left and right, pressing her incandescent buttocks convulsively upwards against the instrument of torment, which her mistress now holds firm where it has struck; holds for several seconds till her handmaiden’s heaving body stills, thrilling to feel as much power over her as a Roman lady over her body-slave. Then she shifts inexorably around to the left again.
Alice has closed her burning eyes. Her mind whirls. ‘P-p-please, Mistress,’ she croaks. ‘No more, I beg you…’
‘Silence!’ This instruction, however, is not strictly obeyed, for as the fourth vigorous downstroke lacerates the air and impacts with a sharp crack, the bouncy hemispheres thrust violently upwards to meet their tormentor’s crisp kiss which sends sparks of dark gladness spitting wildly through her blood — and a gargling wail escapes Alice’s blubbering lips.
Selina again moves across to her sprawling handmaiden’s right, barely aware that she herself is now wielding the cane with equally devastating facility in left or right hand. She is invaded by profound turbulent thrillings it is difficult to control as she sucks in air, lifts the whippy wand high, aims carefully for a particular portion of the ripely lush surface of Alice’s bottom and slices downwards.
‘Aaggghh! No, n-no-o-o…’ the girl caws.
The anguished outcry is to no avail. Selina moves again, with dancer’s grace and martinet’s grimness, to the other side of her compliant handmaiden’s racked body and propels a final staggering thrash against the reddened, palpitating target. A fierce hissing through clenched teeth answers the stroke.
Seconds pass; a minute. Selina’s own harsh breathing is complemented by Alice’s sobbed gasps as her plump, pretty buttocks, now scored with six red stripes of scorching heat, twitch and quiver, with unbearable sensitivity, as if yearning for a cooling caress.
‘Stand up, little girl!’ Aching, shaking, Alice crawls from her punishment stance and balances on tottering legs. Then her mistress is close beside her again, reaching down behind, and the young girl stoops sighingly forward to allow complete access to those cool strong palms, feeling with tickles of pleasure how they slide inside the wispy knicker fabric to gently cup and squeeze, fondle and tease her hot, wealed buttocks which welcome the soothing, lingering embrace and stroking fingers with ecstatic little thrills. But then the knickers are slid all the way down her legs, leaving a stark naked posterior to add to her humiliating relinquishment of all modesty. Her punishment is not over yet, and well the girl knows it.
‘As well as thoroughly heating up your impudent rear-end, young lady,’ Selina now announces stridently, ‘I promised you three strokes on the thigh-backs, did I not?’
‘Ohhh n-no. Please no!’
‘Silence! Lie down on your back, girl — NOW!’
With a delicious yet terrifying sense of helpless resignation, Alice lowers herself backwards on to the padded footrest with her head nestling on the furs and her nude bottom jutting with provocative cheekiness out beyond the seat-edge.
Alice sighs, swinging her shapely, pop-soxed legs straight and high. It is inconceivable that she should disobey!
Sternly grasping the girl’s dainty, wavering heels Selina now observes with relish how the two slender columns swoop down to the saucy, ripely-splendid little butt of her shy young handmaiden, hotly wealed by their mutual pleasing; noting with an inward glow how Alice’s perfect teeth clench in dread anticipation of the searing cuts now due across her acutely sensitive thigh-flesh, in a position which she knows makes her feel extremely vulnerable.
Bracing herself, Selina cocks her right arm and aims the cane. It hisses and hits, biting simultaneously across both upper legs with such a searing impact that the demure recipient gives a nerve-jarring screech; and another bright line bursts redly up to mirror the ones which glow like brands on the petal-soft posteriors beneath them, so seductively and humiliatingly presented to her mistress’s shining gaze.
Selina must continue to show no leniency; their relationship is based on this, and she knows that Alice needs the firmly unrelenting hand she so adores to provide. Frowning intently, glorying in her handmaiden’s utterly humbled posture, she propels the cane towards its shaking target with sternest vigour. The stick thwacks against the pliant columns, which judder convulsively as the excruciating pain-bite is absorbed by the tender flesh. A shrieking gasp of barely supportable anguish accompanies it.
‘Get your knees right back for the third stroke,’ insists Selina. She pushes strongly at the other’s heels so that Alice’s knees press against her chest, bringing the gorgeously curvaceous buttocks up into an appallingly revealing position, the thigh-backs now horizontal so that Selina is able to exert the full force of her own desirable body in a final cataclysmic downstroke directly across them.
Ssswhhhasswashh! The pain eats like a hot wire into the petal-soft skin as the whippy stick strikes and recoils, provoking an ear-splitting shriek of undiluted anguish. Then Alice begins to blubber hoarsely, squeezing her pretty eyes shut and grinding her teeth. But it is over — for now, at least! The young girl lies back shuddering as her mistress judiciously inspects with rapt concern the livid, wealed streaks she has so fiercely yet lovingly bestowed on those choice girlish buttocks and thighs.
The next few minutes climax their ritual of harsh mistress and yielding handmaiden as Alice worshipfully kneels to greedily kiss the beloved hands which have inflicted such pain, a pain which burns and prickles, flickers and flares in each roasting pillowy hillock of her springy hindquarters, muting in time to a swarming warmth which increases the succulent intensity of her adoring kisses, while Selina strokes the fair head and thus brings her handmaiden to peace.
Then the mistress stands, and leaves a sniffling Alice alone in the place which has resounded so thrillingly to her screams and pleas. Selina retires to another room, where she smugly loosens her hair and starts to compose her turbulent emotions.
Out of her sight, Alice stands penitently to attention, unable to stem the tears which flow so fetchingly over her delicious face. As her recent dominatrix gazes, with uncharacteristic dreaminess, into the make-up mirror, her dark eyes beginning to glow with a new exciting lustre, Alice maintains her statue of mute obedience, holding a posture in which she will continue to remain until released by her mistress’s word… all day, if necessary. She wonders what will be done to her…