masochist. In fact, Willingham got the impression that she often was disobedient just so she could be punished more, but she was useless at learning the essential rules. That was why Lady Ogleby had sent her for further training, despairing at her seeming inability to do as she was told.
'Sorry, sir,' Magda replied guiltily.
'It's going to be the riding crop for you, my dear?'
'Yes, sir.' Magda's voice was calm to the point of sounding lethargic, but her eyes burned enthusiastically.
Willingham knew that Magda was secretly delighted with the idea of being punished with a riding crop. He undid her handcuffs. 'Now get into position and I'll be back in a moment.'
'Yes, sir.'
Willingham exited the room and went in search of Everton. He found him in the large kitchen talking to Sonia, the voluptuous maid. Willingham eyed Everton suspiciously. He always seemed to be around Sonia these days. He didn't want Sonia to think for one moment that he had ceased being her master. He would speak to Everton about it later.
'Where is the English girl?' Willingham asked, casually thinking that it had been far too long since he had pleasured himself with the Italian maid. He made a mental note about her too, thinking how much fun it had been to give the girl a good thrashing.
'I think she's in her room,' Everton answered in his usual dull monotone. Willingham cast a disapproving glance at his servant, before turning to Sonia.
'Sonia, could you go up there and speak to her? Give her a tour of the gardens or something. I'm in the room above. I don't want her to hear anything.'
He followed Sonia up the stairs, staring at her thighs under the hem of her pretty maid's outfit, and remembering how much he used to enjoy pulling her onto his lap and watching her squirm under him as he slapped her naked bottom with his hard hand.
When Willingham heard the English girl's voice from behind the door of her room accepting Sonia's invitation to go for a stroll in the garden, he knew that in a moment it would be safe to proceed.
He re-entered the room upstairs where he found Magda patiently waiting for him, her knees resting on a dining chair, her beautiful bottom perched up before him. It was a delicious sight.
He went and pulled back the heavy curtains and then opened the window onto the late afternoon sunshine. Magda looked golden in the dusk light as the weakening sun entered the room. The rounded curves of her hips were emphasized by the position she knelt in. Her beautiful wavy hair trailed down her back as she arched her neck expectantly. How he loved to watch that beautiful head rear back as he whipped her!
'Magda, pull your bottom apart,' Willingham said as casually as if he was asking her to carry out some menial task. Magda, as casually, obliged, gripping her buttocks firmly and then splaying them, her long crimson fingernails indenting the white flesh, tugging at it, so that Willingham could see her sex lips trailing down to a fringe of golden pubic hair below, and above the taut surround of her anus. He placed the crop above her and dangled the narrow strips of leather between her bum cheeks and over her sex so that it tickled her.'
'Oh!' Magda sighed as Willingham continued to manipulate the tawse, her little pert bottom wriggling against the delicate touch the leather made on her.
'Now, tell me what you want, Magda.' Willingham removed the whip from her bottom. Magda knew what she was expected to say.
'Please sir, will you whip my bottom?' Magda replied without hesitation.
'Why, Magda?'
'Because I am such a naughty, disobedient girl.' She didn't sound like a naughty disobedient girl at all, she sounded like a very excited and expectant one.
The first lash descended, catching Magda on the meat of her buttocks; her little bottom wriggled against the pain of it.
'Ask me again, Magda.'
'Please sir, will you whip me on my bottom?'
'How hard, Magda?'
'Oh, very hard, sir.'
The second lash was, if anything, harder than the first.
'Sorry, sir,' Magda replied guiltily.
'It's going to be the riding crop for you, my dear?'
'Yes, sir.' Magda's voice was calm to the point of sounding lethargic, but her eyes burned enthusiastically.
Willingham knew that Magda was secretly delighted with the idea of being punished with a riding crop. He undid her handcuffs. 'Now get into position and I'll be back in a moment.'
'Yes, sir.'
Willingham exited the room and went in search of Everton. He found him in the large kitchen talking to Sonia, the voluptuous maid. Willingham eyed Everton suspiciously. He always seemed to be around Sonia these days. He didn't want Sonia to think for one moment that he had ceased being her master. He would speak to Everton about it later.
'Where is the English girl?' Willingham asked, casually thinking that it had been far too long since he had pleasured himself with the Italian maid. He made a mental note about her too, thinking how much fun it had been to give the girl a good thrashing.
'I think she's in her room,' Everton answered in his usual dull monotone. Willingham cast a disapproving glance at his servant, before turning to Sonia.
'Sonia, could you go up there and speak to her? Give her a tour of the gardens or something. I'm in the room above. I don't want her to hear anything.'
He followed Sonia up the stairs, staring at her thighs under the hem of her pretty maid's outfit, and remembering how much he used to enjoy pulling her onto his lap and watching her squirm under him as he slapped her naked bottom with his hard hand.
When Willingham heard the English girl's voice from behind the door of her room accepting Sonia's invitation to go for a stroll in the garden, he knew that in a moment it would be safe to proceed.
He re-entered the room upstairs where he found Magda patiently waiting for him, her knees resting on a dining chair, her beautiful bottom perched up before him. It was a delicious sight.
He went and pulled back the heavy curtains and then opened the window onto the late afternoon sunshine. Magda looked golden in the dusk light as the weakening sun entered the room. The rounded curves of her hips were emphasized by the position she knelt in. Her beautiful wavy hair trailed down her back as she arched her neck expectantly. How he loved to watch that beautiful head rear back as he whipped her!
'Magda, pull your bottom apart,' Willingham said as casually as if he was asking her to carry out some menial task. Magda, as casually, obliged, gripping her buttocks firmly and then splaying them, her long crimson fingernails indenting the white flesh, tugging at it, so that Willingham could see her sex lips trailing down to a fringe of golden pubic hair below, and above the taut surround of her anus. He placed the crop above her and dangled the narrow strips of leather between her bum cheeks and over her sex so that it tickled her.'
'Oh!' Magda sighed as Willingham continued to manipulate the tawse, her little pert bottom wriggling against the delicate touch the leather made on her.
'Now, tell me what you want, Magda.' Willingham removed the whip from her bottom. Magda knew what she was expected to say.
'Please sir, will you whip my bottom?' Magda replied without hesitation.
'Why, Magda?'
'Because I am such a naughty, disobedient girl.' She didn't sound like a naughty disobedient girl at all, she sounded like a very excited and expectant one.
The first lash descended, catching Magda on the meat of her buttocks; her little bottom wriggled against the pain of it.
'Ask me again, Magda.'
'Please sir, will you whip me on my bottom?'
'How hard, Magda?'
'Oh, very hard, sir.'
The second lash was, if anything, harder than the first.
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