Story: The Secret Slave. Part 5.

by SW

Caroline Cranstone stepped quickly across the drawing room, opened the door and shouted “Slave!” and moved back to her chair.  An uncomfortable silence prevailed until a moment later Rosa appeared at the open door and Mistress Caroline ordered:

“Rosa, go to my chamber and bring one of my crops here, we have need of one.”

Seeing Sophia positioned for a whipping at the fireplace, Rosa quickly nodded and curtseyed and immediately set off on her errand.  The wait for her return seemed interminable to Sophia and to add to her anguish her arms and legs were beginning to hurt from the unnatural pose she had been forced to take.  Looking down at the fire grate she was unable to see either of the mistresses behind her but she was fully aware that they were provided with a very good view of her bottom and she supposed that they might very well be taking advantage of it.

At last Rosa tripped lightly into the room and Mistress Caroline rose from her chair.  She took the crop from Rosa and, after telling the slave girl to wait and watch, the mistress took up a position beside and slightly behind Sophia.  She slid the stiff little whip beneath the thin ribbon of cotton that emerged from between Sophia's buttocks and raised it as high as the little amount of give in it allowed.  As the material jerked upward it caused the straps and triangle of cotton to bite most uncomfortably between Sophia's legs, across her mound and around her waist.  As she did this, Mistress Caroline said, “Well Sophie, I think eight strokes for your trouble to me; four for disobedience and four for insolence.  Are you whip trained girl?”

Sophia had never heard of such a thing and, very forlorn, she replied, “I dunno what that means Mistiss Caroline Ma'am.”

Caroline Cranstone, using the crop, toyed and tugged at the tiny slave garment a few times and said in a disparaging tone, “You don't? No, I'm really not very surprised,” and she gave Elizabeth a disapproving glance before continuing, “Well I shall explain it for you girl.  Every aspect of a slave's behavior should be trained, and that applies as much to the receiving of punishment as it does to how you must serve at table.  You will not kick up a fuss - if you do I shall add a number of strokes.  Do you understand Sophie?”

Sophia was on the brink of weeping but she managed a doleful “Yes'm,” in reply.

“You will not scream or squeal, you will not remove your hands from the mantelpiece and you will not collapse.  You must hold position straight-legged and with as much dignity as you can preserve.  No pleas for the punishment to be cut short will be tolerated; any such groveling will also be rewarded with further blows.  Is that understood?”

Sophia bit her lip, and nodded - her white work bonnet bobbing - and then she mumbled another anguished, “Yes'm.”

“Very well, I shall allow you to cry out but no more than that.  Let us begin,” and the mistress released the crop from beneath Sophia's rag strap, swung it high and brought it down hard on the upper part of her bottom - the pain seared as if a red hot poker had been placed across her buttocks.  Sophia had resolved to keep her mouth tightly shut during the beating and she had bitten her lip and closed her eyes but, when it came, the blow was much too painful for her to retain composure.  As the sharp report of the stroke echoed across the large room she threw her head back and - eyes startled wide - she let out a very loud gasp.  Sophia's lovely bottom quivered and danced while Elizabeth and Rosa looked on - one sat with an inscrutable expression of interest upon her countenance while, the shrinking and fidgeting other, stood and stared reluctantly with her head dropped to a half-bow.   

The second blow elicited a loud moan and further wriggling though the sufferer maintained her position with straight and parted legs and arms extended above.  And so it continued.  With each successive well-spaced - one might say expert - blow there came a loud moan, cry or, sometimes a squeak, and the beautiful brown bottom acquired a very dark and angry purple hue.  At last, the eighth stroke landed and although Sophia had started to sob quietly she told herself that she had borne the flogging almost as well as her girl Sally did under her own whip.  Notwithstanding the stinging pain and degradation she had held position and had not begged for lighter strokes.  For this, she allowed herself a prideful thought.

She waited for the command to stand but Mistress Caroline surprised and horrified her with what she said next, “Very well Sophie, I am done with you, for now, but you have shamed your missa with your bad behavior, I believe your bottom owes Mistress Elizabeth a further four.  Elizabeth, do take this if you wish,” and she turned to Elizabeth and proffered the little whip.

Sophia's belly tumbled and she seemed to shrink at her position.  The very idea that Elizabeth might beat her filled her with even more shame than she had felt under Mistress Caroline's discipline - a degradation, that she had believed, could not have been exceeded.  Sophia almost made an entreaty to her mistresses but she recalled the warning that the punishment would, on no account, be peremptorily stopped, indeed, it would be increased if she begged for it to cease.  She listened intently in the long moment of silence that followed Mistress Caroline's words and fervently hoped that her friend would decline the offer of the crop.  But, when Elizabeth rose, at last, from her seat she said calmly, “Thank you Caroline dear,  I agree - four should go someway for her to answer for humiliating me with her intolerable behavior before you.”  

The strokes were a deal lighter than those of Mistress Caroline, but when the whip landed under Elizabeth's hand Sophia squirmed and wriggled as much as she had done before. Her open-mouthed and wide-eyed expression went unseen by her mistresses - after all, their attentions were concentrated upon her nether regions, but both saw and exchanged glances and smiles at the spreading stain of damp upon the little strip of white cotton pulled tightly across the division between their slave girl's legs.

When all was done Sophia was instructed to stand and told that she was allowed to rub her bottom if she wished.  She had been too debased by the whipping to concern herself with any indignity in doing so, and besides, she was glad of the relief it might bring to her burning buttocks.  She stood before her tormentors and rubbed herself lightly though vigorously for a few moments when Mistress Caroline said,  “Now Sophie, before you go to fetch those flowers as I ordered an age ago, you should ask forgiveness.  Get down.”

Sophia immediately dropped to her knees before Mistress Caroline with her head lowered and began to mumble to the floor, but Mistress Caroline removed Sophia's work bonnet and swatted her head.  She barked, “Look at me girl, I want to see your sincerity.”

Sophia looked up, her eyes moist; and she said very humbly, “Please fo'give me fo' my disobeedjence and ins'lence Mistiss.”  Caroline Cranstone looked down at the girl at her feet and questioned, “You are forgiven, but I trust that you have learned a valuable lesson girl?”  Sophia nodded and answered, “Oh yes'm.  It ain' goin' ter happen no' mo' Mistiss.”  

“Very well, and now to your Missa, for you have humiliated her very badly indeed.”

Sophia shuffled a little on her knees to turn to Elizabeth and, looking up into her eyes, she said, “Missa, Ise sorry I let yo' down, please fo'give yo' gal Ma'am.”

Elizabeth gave Sophia an intense gaze in return and she waited for a long moment before saying very firmly, “Very well Sophie, I shall forgive you this time, but never dare to disappoint me again.  You are my slave and as such you represent me and your behavior reflects upon me.  Never forget that girl!”

Sophia felt a strong stirring deep in her abdomen and sex and she lowered her head and answered. “Yes'm Missa, thank you Missa.”

Caroline Cranstone said, “Very well Sophie, pick up your bonnet and stand up now.  You can go and get those flowers.  Can you remember what colors I ordered?”

As she got painfully to her feet - for her bottom objected to every movement of her legs -  Sophia replied, “Yes'm Mistiss, Ise ter fetch mos'ly yeller an' red flowahs Ma'am.”

Caroline Cranstone beamed a beautiful smile to Sophia and said in a tone calculated to convey the utmost insincerity and humiliation:

“Good Sophie! You are quite correct.  What a smart nigra girl you are!” then continued, “Now, go to your quarters and put on your dress and then get yourself out to the beds below the veranda as quick as you can.  Pick the largest and prettiest flowers you can find, I do like to see the house nicely adorned.  Run along.  Oh, and use the kitchen door girl.”

Her face still flushed, almost as purple as her bottom, Sophia curtseyed painfully and replied, “Yes'm, Mistiss.  Righ' away Ma'am,” and moved quickly - though stiffly - from the room.

Mistress Caroline turned to Rosa, who had remained standing near the door throughout the proceedings, and she said, “Take the whip from Miss Elizabeth girl and hang it at the end of the mantelpiece - it will help serve to remind the lot of you what happens when you displease us.”

The frightened maid curtseyed and stepped to Miss Elizabeth and after she had done as ordered she was glad to be dismissed from the drawing room for she was quite certain that her Mistress was in no mood to suffer her slaves to make any fault - however trifling.

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