Chapter 10
A few moments later, Joe returned with a heavy wooden footstool with its top padded with black leather, and set it down facing Gregson Torrance, who was leisurely finishing his cigar. He squatted down and laid two sets of heavy brown leather straps with sturdy buckles at one end at the side of the tall stool, which reached about the level of the average human waist, and then straightened to wait for orders.
"Now then, boys, put Diane over the stool so that she faces me, and tie her wrists and ankles as tightly as you can," was Gregson Torrance's next order.
"Oh no-oh my God-please don't tie me-oh, I'll do anything-in the name of mercy, Mr. Torrance, don't shame me like this! How can you treat me this way, when you were a friend of my mother and father? Oh God, I must be dreaming, this must be a horrible nightmare! How can you do these things to me!" Diane moaned, wringing her hands in hopeless despair. What was taking place was simply inconceivable for her mind to grasp, but the reality of her situation was suddenly and terribly pressed in upon her as the two Negroes seized her by the wrists and forced her to the stool, as she shrieked in protest, trying to plant her feet and drag back, and then they inexorably forced her down, bending her over the apparatus of chastisement.
Myrna Johnson purred contentedly: "That's it, boys. Bend that haughty ofay ass over real good, so it'll be nice and tight when I spank it."
"Noooo! I don't want you to-oh, stop-God help me-won't somebody help me-Mr. Torrance, help me-I'll pay you-I told you I'd pay you-"
"Save your strength and voice, my dear. I told you, you're going to need them," he mockingly broke in. Now, while Joe kept the half-naked young woman bent down over the stool, Ben squatted on the other side, seized her wrists, crossed one over the other, and then expertly looped the heavy belt around them, then around the lowest rung between the front legs. It was easy for him to move back now and fix her ankles in the same way, and now the heiress found herself draped over the spanking stool with her pantie-sheathed behind exaggeratedly upturned, the tight white nylon panties seeming like a second skin as they outlined the hillocks of her voluptuous virgin ass.
"Oh, what are you going to do-oh please, please don't hurt me-oh, I can't stand pain-oh please, Mr. Torrance, have pity on me, have pity!" Diane sobbed heartrendingly as she tried to jerk at her wrists, only to find them tightly pinioned.
But he ignored the heiress's agonized entreaties and, glancing toward his mulatress mistress, drawled, "All right now, Myrna, do you want to go ahead and spank her?"
"Boy, do I ever! I can't wait to get my hand on that bare white ass of hers, darling!" Myrna Johnson purred sadistically as she moved behind the trembling, writhing, half-naked brown-haired heiress. "First of all, these pants come right smack off. I don't want anything between my hand and her ofay skin," Myrna declared.
So saying, she inserted her fingers in the waists band of the gauzy nylon panties and ripped them off without bothering to yank them down. Diane Wilson uttered a wild cry of shame and terror, struggling frantically in her bonds, while at the same time contracting the muscles of her naked ass in the useless attempt to diminish its all-too-vulnerable dimensions.
"My oh my, that's a real pretty sight!" the mulatress giggled, putting out her hand and lingeringly caressing the shuddering, spasming bottom-cheeks, while Diane, her eyes bulging from their sockets, uttered shriek upon shriek as she implored Gregson Torrance to halt this supreme degradation of her person.
"She sure does caterwaul a lot, Greg honey," Myrna Johnson remarked a moment later, her palm still fondling and smoothing and patting the shuddering white-skinned globes of Diane Wilson's voluptuous bare ass. "Of course, just a simple hand-spanking is much too easy for this pampered, insulting white bitch."
"I know it is, but for the very first time-and I'm sure it's the first time she's ever been spanked. Besides, as you know, I've worked out quite a program of activity for our charming guest during her stay here, and there will be plenty of chance to use something more painful on her bare behind a little later, Myrna dear," Gregson Torrance chuckled.
"That's true. I was forgetting that, Greg darling," the sensual mulatress huskily murmured. "Well now, Diane baby, here we are at least. Aren't you sorry you slapped my face a little while ago and called me a nigger bitch?"
"Oh please-for God's sake-I'll pay you-yes, I've got lots of money-oh please, Myrna, don't humiliate me so-I'll pay you well-you can work for me-I'll pay you more than he does-please get me off this-you'll see, I'll be grateful to you!"
"Oh, you're going to be grateful, all right, Miss Rich Bitch, never you fear," Myrna Johnson giggled. Now both her hands were squeezing, palpating, kneading the cheeks of Diane Wilson's bare ass, while the young woman wriggled and squirmed frantically over the spanking stool, tugging feverishly at the heavy strap which buckled tightly around her wrists and the rung of the stool. "But you know something? Right now I wouldn't take any amount of money for the pleasure of just whacking your naked ofay ass, I wouldn't. So you can just get yourself ready for a good, hot, hard fan tailing. 'Course, I would sure rather use a paddle or Ben's whip there, but like Greg says, there'll be time for everything, so why rush things. Now, I think I'll leave that garter belt on. It sort of frames your big white ass and gives me a nice target. Let's see how red we can make it, shall we?"
With this, she stepped back a little and to the victim's left, raised her right hand and administered a resounding smack across the rounded curve of Diane Wilson's bare right bottomglobe.
There was a frantic yell, of shame rather more than of pain, as the victim's hips jerked convulsively, and it seemed as though Diane Wilson was trying to jack herself off over the top and the edge of the spanking stool. Her head rose up frantically and her tear-blurred, dilated eyes fixed on Gregson Torrance's amused and cynical face only a few feet away, and once more he cynically discharge a puff of cigar smoke into her agonized nose and eyes, which made her cough and choke and burst into helpless, fitful tears.
"Boy, that white skin sure does mark good!" Ben declared with the air of an expert-which indeed he was. "Ah jist wish Ah could use dat ol' whip on her right now instead. Ah could paint pictures with it, I sho'nuff could."
"Oh please, oh dear God in heaven, MyrnaI'm begging you humbly-I'll pay you two hundred dollars a week to work for me, and I'll even sign a contract-yes, anything you want-only please let me go-this is so shameful, so humiliating-you're a woman too-take pity on me!" Diane Wilson was babbling.
"I sure am a woman like you, honey, only I'm a helluva sight better one. From what Greg told me, you don't even know what usin' your pussy and ass and titties to be a woman to your man is. Two hundred bucks a week and a contract? My, oh my! And all over a little spanking that isn't even started yet. Although I may say from just these two smacks I've just handed you, your ass is sure going to be red as a tomato when I get done, Little Miss Rich Bitch!"
Smarting under the mulatress's derision, groaning and sobbing, Diane again fixed her agonized eyes on the banker who had engineered this diabolical scheme for her downfall.
"Oh Greg, Greg!" She strove to gain his sympathy by using his first name in the intimate form she had heard Myrna adopt, "Please let me off-I'm sorry if I offended these people-I'll apologize-only don't have me treated like thisit's inhuman, horrible! Please, can't we talk it over?"
"We're going to talk over a great many things, Diane," he replied. "But they are going to be things that Myrna and Ben and Joe and I choose, not you. Your time of making decisions-except those which will most vitally concern your own wellbeing-is over now. Go on, Myrna. It's really a lovely sight."
"It is for me too, Greg honey," the mulatress laughed softly. Once more her hand passed slowly over the flinching bare ass-cheeks of the victim, whose hips twisted and wriggled frenziedly as the awful knowledge that she was not going to be spared the ultimate dregs of degradation was impinged upon her haughty ego.
Bent down sharply from the waist, her head and shoulders towards the floor, her bottom was angled upwards and out, with the most lascivious possible angle. And try as she would to clench her long, lovely thighs, she could not prevent Myrna seeing the patch of dark brown cunt curls framing the soft pink fig of her virgin twat, or the shadowy, intimate ambery groove that let to her virgin ass-hole.
Smack-Smack-Crack Thrice Myrna Johnson's hand sonorously flattened against the jutting naked behind of her victim, the first two attacking, the summits, and the third stinging the base of Diane's left bottomglobe. High-pitched cries of mingled indignation and pain were wrested from the victim, and once again Diane's hips lunged and squirmed, heedless of the lewd display of her most intimate person which she provided not only to Myrna but to the blacks. By now, their jockstraps were bulging savagely with the erections they had already achieved, and if Gregson Torrance had not been there to supervise, this, Diane Wilson's first humiliating spanking might well have been interrupted by a sound fucking or perhaps a browning.
The victim's elegant figure and relative tallness made the spanking stool a particularly provocative showcase for her denuded charms. The stress on her muscles emphasized the delightful grace of her rather svelte long thighs, as well as the agile muscularity of her sinuously high-set calves. Myrna had already noticed the exquisite little crescent-shaped brown birthmark at the top of the victim's left thigh, and meant to take advantage of it during the spanking. The pale white skin was exceptionally satiny and flawless, but where Myrna's palm had smitten, bright red splotches stood out on that white escutcheon in the most lascivious way.
And then, exactly as Myrna had described, framing those jouncily and upstandingly rounded assglobes, the narrow white tabs of the little garter-belt accentuated the libidinous jut of Diane Wilson's highly spankable bare behind.
Once again the mulatress paused to caress and squeeze and playfully slap and naked hindquarters of the sobbing, distraught young woman, and once again Diane Wilson frantically implored mercy from the very maid she had so arrogantly insulted and slapped, thinking her a mere menial who would be, like all those others in Diane Wilson's sheltered life, existing only to serve her beck and call: "Oh Myrna, three hundred a week, then! Yes, I promise you and Greg can write up the contract-not before those n-niggers-oh God, I didn't mean that-those m-m-men-oh please, no more-please stop-oh please, Myrna!"
"You hear that, man?" Joe said to Ben with a scowl. "Looks to me like that dirty little ofay bitch is jist bound to down-talk us black boys. We'll show her, though, won't we?"
"Sho 'nuff will, Joe boy, no two ways 'bout it," the tall Negro smacked his lips and nodded. "Tan her ass fer her good, Myrna baby. She's insultin' you too, you know?"
"But I didn't mean to say it-it just slipped out! Oh, have pity on me-Greg, for God's sake tell her to stop. I'll pay her and I'll pay you too-yes, these men-" the heiress feverishly sobbed.
But now the spanking resumed. Moving closer to the nearly-nude, squirming captive, Myrna Johnson pressed her left palm down on the small of Diane Wilson's back and at this short range began to slap the upturned, jutting bottomglobes with brisk, quick, stinging slaps that not only shamed but also pained the pampered heiress.
In all she gave Diane about a more dozen slaps, distributing them impartially all over the wriggling, gradually reddening bare behind, as Diane burst into tears and once more hysterically supplicated Gregson Torrance to intercede in her behalf.
Then again she paused, but once more to agonize the sobbing and whimpering heiress. Both hands now glided over those upturned, defenseless, vividly splotched bare ass-cheeks, and Diane closed her eyes and moaned and groaned in direst shame as she felt the mulatress' fingers pinch here and there, tweak and tickle and stroke virtually every inch of her helpless naked posterior.
Then once again, while she was still wriggling and sobbing and protesting, her executioner resumed. But this time with broad sweeps of her right arm, applying energetic spanks with a gusto that sent Diane's body lunging forward as she remained tethered and draped over the spanking stool. Her head lifted to announce each burning smack with a loud wail and a babbled supplication for pardon.
Myrna was spanking all over that helpless, naked seat at her disposal, but without touching the little brown birthmark. By now she had inflicted some forty spanks, and Diane's bare bottom was uniformly a bright red, the cheeks uncontrollably spasming open and contracting again.
"Whew! My poor little hand is hurting me now, wearing it out on that big bare ass of hers," she lamented as she turned to Gregson Torrance. He had just lit a cigarette and, is legs crossed, his hands gripping his right knee, he was watching this juvenile chastisement with burning gaze.
"That's a good start," he commended his mulatress mistress. "Maybe by now Diane will be more disposed to taking orders. Now then, my girl, if we untie you and let you up, will remove your bra and then kneel down in front of Ben and Joe and apologize to each of them for insulting them?"
Diane was fighting for breath through her sobs and she could not at once answer. Pretending that this was out of stubbornness, Myrna stepped forward to deliver a sharp little pinch to the little brown birthmark. Diane jerked back as she emitted a shrill cry of agony.
"When Greg speaks to you, bitch, you answer him good!" Myrna hissed, and then she applied two stinging slaps, both on the base of Diane Wilson's bare right bottomglobe.
"Oww! Boohoo! Oh yes, yes, I will, only have mercy and stop! Oh, it stings, it burns, I can't stand any more! Only for God's sake, no more!" the heiress wailed in capitulation.
Myrna stepped back reluctantly, blowing on her hand. Then she nodded to Ben and Joe, who promptly came forward and unbuckled the straps. It was Ben who, his hands against Diane's shivering, naked waist, lifted her to her feet from over the bent-down posture which had so ignominiously offered her most intimate charms to the avenging hand of Myrna Johnson.
"Git down on her knees now and do what he told you to!" he growled at the weeping heiress.
Almost heedless of her half-nudity and the fact that the curls of her cunt and the soft, twitching lips were prominently on display to all these alien eyes, Diane Wilson began to rub her blazing bottom, as the tears ran down her cheeks. But when Gregson Torrance scolded her for taking so much time and called out "Ben, see if you can't give her a hand," Diane Wilson uttered a wild shriek and babbled, "Oh no! I'll do anything you want. Yes, yes, I'll obey you!"
"That's much better-that's showing sense at last. Now then, Diane, get down on your knees before each of those two boys, kiss the feet of each of them, and apologize for having called them a nigger. If you don't do it quickly, so I can hear you, back you go over the stool and this time Myrna will use Ben's whip, which you have already felt!"