Chapter 13
The lights had just been turned out along the tiers of cells in one of which poor Beth Calhoun was incarcerated when there was the quickened sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. It was Flossie Durkin, vengefully eager to initiate the newest inmate into the tyrannies of Keston.
The young dark-brown-haired girl had been put into the very last cell at the far end of the floor, to isolate her from the other prisoners and also for making it easier for taking her on to punishment. Now often when a girl had been informed at the beginning of the day that she was down on the punishment list, she sometimes made the error of fighting and creating a scene which was hardly good for the morale of the others. In this instance, Flossie Durkin, knowing that Alma Burbage was eager to participate in this, the very first chastisement of desirable Beth Calhoun, did not wish the other inmates to know what was going to happen. There were already a few troublemakers whom she suspected, though thus far they had been clever enough to avoid retribution. There was a lot of rumor going around the reformatory about the need for reform, and there was even one anonymous tip-which had been investigated and turned out to be just fiction that someone was going to try to smuggle a letter out to visitors aimed at getting the attention of a newspaper editor who would make a full investigation of Keston's brutality and depravity to these helpless girls and women.
But all this was of no consequence to poor Beth now, as she waited with pounding heart, in terror, knowing that those footsteps were coming for her. She couldn't help remembering Flossie Durkin's cruel, gloating face nor the cold insolent contempt with which Alma Burbage had discountenanced her.
But the fact that she was actually going to be beaten, so barbaric and anachronistic a treatment which supposedly had been removed from all prisons in this century, made her legs weak; and she was for the first time in her young life terribly afraid. She understood that there was some kind of pernicious interest in her, a kind of challenge to her spirit and courage and endurance, and she told herself desperately that she must at all odds not break down and show them that they were hurting her.
Somehow there would be some chance; perhaps some legal authority would visit the reformatory and then she would have a chance to tell what was going on. She had already heard some harrowing tales, though she had seen nothing concrete yet. But what she had heard the other night where that awful matron had come into her cell, had made her suddenly very suspicious. And now that she had been directly told that she was to be given corporal punishment, her mind began to build and to embroider on the frightful possibilities of the suffering in store for her.
The cell door opened and Flossie Durkin entered. "Come on out, Calhoun," she hissed. "And no noise and don't make any fuss, or you'll really get a thrashing! March out now and turn to your left as you come out of the cell. Go on straight ahead and there's a door, open it and keep going till I tell you to stop."
Beth Calhoun was about to speak and then decided against it, if the superintendent were to be on hand, she would plead for some understanding of what had been going on, try to make the superintendent understand that she was innocent of all wrong-doing and that she really had been trapped. It was unthinkable that at her age she should be spanked-the very word made her blush with shame.
So, after stiffening she finally bowed her head and moved listlessly out of the cell and down the dark corridor to that door, opened it and went on through a narrower passageway. And soon she found herself on the floor and in the building where the private quarters of the matrons and Alma Burbage herself were located.
It was to be in Alma's apartment, and Flossie knocked gently at the door and was told to come in.
Alma Burbage wore a stunning black satin negligee and a bathrobe over it, her feet encased in black leather high-heeled pumps. There was a smell of perfume to her, and she had lip stick painted her mouth and put mascara on her lashes, and there was a kind of perverse, sexual allure to her which made Beth Calhoun begin to tremble even more violently than before.
"Here's Calhoun, Alma," Flossie Durkin chuckled. Giving the young woman a shove and sending her stumbling forward to where the superintendent waited, seated in an armchair with her legs crossed, indolently smoking a cigarette.
"Miss Burbage, for God's sake, this is a terrible mistake! I swear to you I didn't do anything-some matron came into my cell last night and-and tried-and tried to be familiar with me-" Beth Calhoun began.
"Silence! Did I tell you, you could speak? I can understand now why you have so many demerits in such a short time, Calhoun. Well, Flossie, what do you think?"
"A good sound spanking on the naked ass, that's what I always think. But this little bitch is fo finicky, she might just be a troublemaker. What she needs is a lesson that'll make her learn once and for all what the rules are so she won't open her yap or even think of doing it," the head matron declared with a smirk of satisfaction.
"Well, then, I suppose you're going to take her over your lap."
"I sure will, only I want her hands and feet tied so she won't struggle too much. Okay if we use straps?"
"No! You shan't tie me! It's horrible-it's not fair and it's criminal! I've not done anything to be beaten for," Beth Calhoun passionately cried, her eyes glistening with tears as she backed away.-s But Flossie Durkin seized her, doubled one wrist behind the girl's back and made her bend over and cry out in pain. "I'll teach you to start whining to Alma," she growled. "By the time I get through with you, you'll be the nicest, most obedient little bitch in Keston, you mark mv words!"
Alma Burbage had risen from her chair and, going to a closet, opened it and took out two heavy buckling straps, which she tossed to the stout vindictive head matron. Expertly, Flossie Durkin got both of Beth's wrists behind her back and bound them tightly, pulling up the strap to the very last notch in the buckle until the young woman cried out in pain and twisted and fought desperately but to no avail. Then squatting, she would the other heavy strap round Beth's slim ankles and buckled them just as tightly.
"Now then, you're all ready, except to peel you down for an ass warming, baby," she crooned, licking her lips with ferocious sadistic joy.
She was naked under the uniform except for stockings and garter belt and shoes. And when she eyed Alma Burbage, the latter nodded and smiled significantly. Flossie Durkin felt her heart bound with delight. That meant Alma was going to share this sweet little bitch with her. And she was really going to put on a show for Alma's benefit and make Calhoun here eat humble pie!"
Now, seizing the girl by the waist, she dragged her over towards the couch and flung her down across her lap. Beth Calhoun uttered a plaintive cry of stupefaction and horror, twisted valiantly against her buckling straps but to no avail. Grinning, Flossie Durkin hoisted the coarse skirt and slip, rolled them well up out of harm's way, and revealed the magnificent bottom encased in the coarse white cotton bloomers. Meanwhile Alma Burbage bad gone over to the closet again and brought out a leather-covered oval-shaped paddle and moved over to the couch to watch the unveiling of this virginal behind.
"Now let's see what sort of an ass you've got for warming, Calhoun," Flossie Durkin growled as she inserted her pudgy fingers under the waistband and yanked the garment down. With all her might, poor Beth Calhoun tried to flatten herself across her tormentress' lap to prevent this, but in vain; with a sobbing cry she realized that her behind was naked now and that tied as she was, she was absolutely helpless before the cruelty of this tyrannical despot.
"Miss Burbage, for God's sake don't let her do it to me! It's criminal I tell you, you're not supposed to torture prisoners, to beat them, Oh my God, how can you do a thing like this, you a superintendent?" she appealed.
"Nice and slow, Flossie honey," Alma replied as she handed the head matron the paddle. "I want to see her big bottom dance. Isn't it nice and white and solid and firm and juicy, though! I want to see it red as a tomato, and I want to hear her yell for mercy."
"You will," Flossie Durkin promised.
Now tucking her left arm around the prisoner's waist, she lifted the paddle to get the heft of it, and then brought it down with a cruel smack across the ripest curves of both Beth Calhoun's quivering, upturned and helpless ass-cheeks.
Beth Calhoun had ground her teeth together and closed her eyes, but even though she had vowed courage, the burning shock of the first spank made her gasp and start convulsively.
"Her skin marks wonderfully," Alma crooned, squatting down just opposite to watch, her eyes glittering with lust. "Please don't hurry, it's a wonderful treat!"
"For me too, Alma honey," the head matron chuckled. Then she patted the twitching, huddling globes of Beth Calhoun's bare behind. "Now you've got a pretty far idea of what you're in for, bitch. You're not gonna talk so high and mighty from now on, you see if you don't. Get that ass ready, it belongs to me all night long, and there are lots of spanks coming in this paddle!"
With this, she again brandished the weapon high, hovered it a moment, then brought it down with a resounding Smackkk in exactly the same place. This deepened the already bright pink splotch left by the first spank, and the pain was really atrocious. Beth Calhoun lifted her head, her eyes wide and agonized, but she manage to suppress all but a stifled groan, while her body shook convulsively.
Now there was a full minute while Flossie Durkin playfully patted the shrinking naked white seat of her helpless victim. Beth Calhoun had closed her eyes very tightly and was trying to pray. She was praying for salvation, for some miracle to happen so that somehow people on the outside would know what was going on in this horrible place to which innocent girls and women were sent.
The third spank suddenly fell, landing on the base of both ass-cheeks, and her hips bounded convulsively again while this time a thin cry of pain was heard. "I didn't think she could resist my special spanker, Alma. Look at how nice and red the places are where I whacked already. And there's lots more room for plenty of swats," Flossie Durkin triumphantly declared. Now she entered a quick glancing diagonally placed blow over the right buttock, followed by a backhanded one over the left cheek, and the crisp smack-smack was echoed by another stifled cry from the unfortunate young sufferer.
Alma Burbage moved now a little forward so that she could watch Beth Calhoun's face. That lovely visage was contorted and flushed, and the nostrils were twitching and the lovely lips were trembling pitiably. Her fingers clinched together, as her wrists were dragged behind her and tightly strapped. She buried her face on the surface of the couch and tried to diminish herself. But the throbbing pain in her bare behind and the twisted cling of the bloomers at about mid-thigh reminded her only too well of her shameful and painful predicament.
Now slowly Alma Durkin began to spank, first on the right cheek, then the left allowing about twenty seconds between each blow. She did not use the full force of her arm, but her left arm held Beth's lovely supple waist as in a vise. And the crips sonorities of the blows from the leather paddle on the tender white flesh that began to redden furiously and to twitch and palpitate was in itself a shameful ordeal for lovely young Beth Calhoun. Wincing under each blow now, whimpering softly as the paddle rose from her bare ass to menace it once more, waiting for the next terrible shock which sent waves of fiery suffering through out her entire nervous system, the victim squirmed over Flossie Durkin's lap, tears surging from under her lids, in spite of all her resolutions to be brave and stoic.
Now Flossie Durkin directed the paddle vertically, again alternating on the cheeks, bisecting her entire bottom globe with a single swipe which landed more crisply now than ever. Beth Calhoun could no longer hold back her cries and groans. Nor could she stop the convulsive upward leaping of her naked hips as the paddle bit and imparted a new kiss of fire and torment.
Tears ran down her cheeks, and her face was upturned towards the ceiling as if she were praying for Divine Providence to save her.
But the paddle continued to fall, inexorably, wickedly, Flossie Durkin's vigor increasing in proportion to her own sexual arousal. And Alma Burbage's face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with lust as she followed every nuance of this torture.
By the time Beth Calhoun had tasted fifty spanks of the paddle, her naked ass was a naked red and swollen, particularly on the summits and base. She was crying distractedly, her body feverishly twisting and squirming as if she were trying to rub her pussy off on Flossie Durkin's lap.
"That's a pretty good start, I'd say," the head matron pronounced as she laid the paddle squarely over the swollen hemispheres of Beth Calhoun's naked, and well spanked bottom. "I'll just let the little bitch cry off some of her pain, and then we'll keep going. Only I think the next time we ought to use a strap."
"Oh God-no more-I can't stand-I can't stand it-have p-pity on me, oh please, m--Miss Burbage, for God-s sake no more!" Beth Calhoun sobbed.
"It's a hard lesson," Alma Burbage rose now and in a throaty voice harangued the lovely dark-brown-haired captive. "But Head Matron Durkin here wants to make certain that you don't become the sort of troublemaker you've already shown some aptitude for. I'm inclined to let her go ahead with your spanking and to use a strap. It will bite more now that you've been well paddled."
"Please-oh dear God-I can't stand it-Oh help me, someone!" Beth Calhoun cried in her abject terror. To be bound like this, to be helpless, to have her bloomers pulled down and her naked behind spanked like a child's, was too much; but now the prospect of more spanking when her behind was already smarting and throbbing and hot with agony was just unthinkable.
"Of course, if you show the proper spirit of humility, we might be inclined to let you off this one time only," Alma Burbage pursued. She sat down on the other end of the couch, leaned towards the sobbing girl, and, cupping Beth Calhoun's chin in one hand, forced the girl's tearstained and contorted face up as she stared cruelly down into it: "Well, Beth? Do you think you can be a good little girl from now on and do exactly what we tell you to?" she greedily demanded.
"Oh please-oh this is awful-I can't stand it!" Beth moaned.
"Let me warm her up just some," Flossie Durkin cooed. Picking up the paddle from that swollen bare behind, she raised it high and applied three whistling, smacking blows, each vertically and each pinching the inner edges of Beth Calhoun's asscheeks together as they landed right over the amber, shadowy groove which separated those luscious globes.
Beth Calhoun uttered a wild shriek and tried to kick and twist and roll herself off of Flossie Durkin's lap but to no avail.
"Well now, you see that Head Matron Durkin doesn't have the same compassion for you I do, Beth dear," Alma Burbage purred. Again she cupped the girl's trembling chin and forced up Beth Calhoun's face and stared into those lovely tear-brimming eyes: "Do you think you can obey now and do everything we tell you to without any questions or arguments?"
"Oh please-oh let me g o a i i i iee yowwuuuu!! ! Oh my God, not any more, oh I'm so sore, it hurts me-stop it-I'll do what you want-oh God, have mercy on me!"
"I thought that would bring her around, Alma," Flossie Durkin grinned. For in the middle of Beth Calhoun's agonized supplications, she had delivered another three ferocious whacks right down the ass-hole groove once again pinching the inner edges of both globes together and causing the most unspeakable suffering as the captive's hips jerked, twisted and wriggled libidinously.
Alma Burbage now rose and removed her bathrobe, and furled up her negligee to her armpits to expose the black fleece of her cunthole. Standing beside the couch, she reached down with her left hand and, entangling her fingers in Beth Calhoun's glossy curls, yanked up the girl's tearstained and agonized face. "Kiss my cunt, bitch," she hissed. "Kiss it if you don't want the strap!"
"Oh no-oh that's too horrible-I won't-you can't make me do that-I'd rather dieEeyeoww!! ! ! Oh God, od dear God in heaven, give me strength, I'm dying-arrrri-awrraahhh!! ! Oh stop that, yes, anything-oh my God, please stop it!" As another three spanks quickly fell.
Flossie Durkin kept the paddle pressed right over those swollen naked bottomglobes after the last blow had fallen, making poor Beth aware that the punishment could be resumed at any moment and even harsher than before. "The Superintendent wants to hear you say yes, bitch," she snarled. "And if I don't hear it, I'm going to give you ten swats right here where the paddle is up against your big ass, understand me?"
It was too much. Whimpering and sobbing, poor Beth Calhoun nodded and in a faint voice quavered, "Oh yed-anything-only please put down that horrible paddle-I can't stand it anymore, I can't!"
Once again Alma Burbage cupped the girl's chin and forced her tear-stained face up to that shaggy black fleece. "Then kiss and suck and like me till I tell you to stop, bitch," she hissed. "Do it, or I'll tell Flossie to go on paddling till your tail is raw. I mean it, Calhoun!"
Just to quicken the girl, the head matron applied two more solid swats, one over each ass-summit, and poor Beth forgot all her resolve for Spartan courage. She glued her mouth to the superintendent's cunt, and began to lick and suck and gamahuch.
And before the night was done, she had been made to do the same thing to the cruelly vindictive head matron.