Chapter 9
Dr. Marsha Andrews was enjoying a relaxed but stimulating evening following her favorite penchant, which was that of wearing a disciplinary costume of molding black kid and subjugating a particularly attractive young girl who had had the misfortune not only of getting into trouble, but also of drawing the Lesbian doctor's particular interest.
The girl was Jacqueline Blee, seventeen and a half, with coppery red hair falling in kind of Veronica Lake sweep over one cheek, a sulky face with highset cheekbones and a tawny skin with freckles. She was about five feet seven, and she had small but perfectly orange-like firm titties, long, lovely legs and a boyishly compact bottom with an almost invisible groove-or so it seemed now as she flexed her bottom muscles and shudderingly awaited the beginning of her trashing.
She was stark naked and blindfolded, and she was tied over a leather-padded whipping stool in Dr. Marsha Andrews' private quarters in a building which stood next to the main prison building and was used as quarters for the head matrons, the other matrons, Alma Burbage and Dr. Marsha Andrews herself.
Jacqueline Blee was a runaway from a St. Louis home, had got into bad company in Chicago, and been in love with a young man who robbed several filling stations and then got her to transport a package to the other side of town which, when opened by arresting police officers, was found to contain barbiturates, which he had also stolen from a pharmacy and intended to sell to a narcotics pusher.
For this she was sentenced to the reformatory at Keston until her twenty-first birthday. She was rebellious from the start, and she had already spent two days in solitary for spitting at a matron. That had cost her a paddling from none other than Flossie Durkin in her first week here. Now, in her third month, she had already run afoul of Dr. Marsha Andrews because, in order to get out a working detail in the latrines to which Flossie Durkin had sentenced her out of spite, Jacqueline had pleaded illness. The illness had been faked and Dr. Andrews had lectured her sternly on it and had finally given her an alternative: either she was sent back in disgrace to her regular cell-tier and had to undergo whatever Flossie had in mind for her, or she would just submit for a weekend to Marsha Andrews herself. Naturally, Jacqueline took the latter. A paddling at Flossie's hands would have been cruel; she had not been able to walk for the next day or two after the last one; and whatever Dr. Andrews had in mind, she felt certain the doctor, younger and attractive, would be less severe-and that was where she had made another sad error.
If Marsha Andrews was not so much the brutal sadist that one found in Flossie Durkin or Mabel Burton or Clara Henshaw, she was the more perverse and to be feared because of her quixotic imagination. Now, draped over the whipping stool and blindfolded, stark naked, Jacqueline had been waiting there for a ful five minutes, not knowing exactly what was going to happen to her but assuming she would be spanked. She had tightened her muscles until there was hardly any separation between the jouncy, firm globes of her naked ass, but Dr. Marsha Andrews had used that time to change from her white medical costume into her favorite dominatress attire. A black kid corselet, one-piece in format, with a thin strap which hid her cunt and hooked up behind to the hems of the back and which began at her titties, cuirassed her slim figure. She wore shoulder-length gloves and thigh-high boots, and she had sprayed herself with perfume and her eyes glinted with lust as they fixed on Jacqueline Blee's tautened, draped-over naked figure.
She had taken a little round pincushion from the basket on the dresser in her bedroom, and it contained color-headed pins. She now began to prick Jacqueline's shuddering, bare ass with one of these, while the girl winced and groaned, pleading, "Oh gosh, Dr. Andrews, please get it over with-I can't stand waiting like this-it's awful-ouch! Oww! What are you doing to me?"
"Shut your mouth, you little bitch, or I'll turn you back over to Flossie. Would you like that?"
"N-no-but-hey, that hurts-ow! What are you sticking me with?"
Dr. Andrews had just stuck a green-headed pin squarely into the summit of Jacqueline Blee's left ass-cheek, and then had watched the girl's frantic squirmings over the whipping stool.
Slowly and delectatingly, the svelte auburn-haired lesbian continued her fiendishly cruel preface to punishment and subjugation. By the time she had planted twelve of these pins in red, green, black and yellow, six to each bottom-cheek, forming two circles, Jacqueline Blee was shrieking and squirming and twisting, frantically pleading to be spared any more.
"I'm just making a target for the whipping," she purred to the horrified, naked young beauty. "I'm going to give you all the spanks right in those circles where I've put the pins. Now you can get yourself ready."
Now she took up a short plastic hairbrush, brown in color, with extremely short, sharp, prickly bristles. Then, palming the girl's lower back with her left hand, her eyes devouring the flexing and shuddering naked ass-cheeks with their lewd pin-studded circles, she began to apply the back of the brush to start with. Three swats within each circle made Jacqueline Blee cry out and tearfully plead for mercy.
Then Dr. Andrews paused and reversed the brush. The next blow struck the bristles viciously in to the circle made by the pins on the left ass-cheeks, and Nacqueline Blee lifted her head and shrieked aloud, a high-pitched agonized cry that implored pardon.
Implacably the brush smacked against the other globe within that pin-marked circle, and then again Jacqueline's voice rose again in a shrill lament of agony.
Now the dominatress began to spank all along the very narrow and dissembled bottom-furrow, where the flesh was the tenderest, using the bristle side entirely. The girl's struggles and gyrations over the stool made Dr. Marsha Andrews shudder with mounting lust.
When she stopped, those two circles were a blazing, livid red with dark bluish corruscations left by the bristles, and Jacqueline was sobbing her heart out and dripping with agony-sweat.
Now Marsha Andrews stopped and unstrapped the weeping girl, only to hell her to bend herself over the stool in reverse, with her bottom pressed against the top of the stool, letting her arms hang down at the side. When the blindfolded captive tearfully protested, the Lesbian medico threatened to call Flossie Durkin, and once again the terror of this brutal head matron compelled poor Jacqueline to accept what she still hoped might be the lesser evil. In a few moments the svelte, auburn-haired doctor had strapped the girl's wrists and ankles so that this time Jacqueline's loins and belly were offered at the top of the stool and her quite hairy count hole was gaping.
Now, her left palm on the girl's shuddering belly, she began to apply cruel little blows of the bristled side of the hairbrush along the inside of the girl's thighs, observing how the victim twisted and writhed, and how her cries grew more hoarse and agonized and wordless as her strength began to diminish. Now it was the bristles that dug into that tender cunt, and this time Jacqueline raised her head and shrieked wildly for pardon.
"If I stop, are you going to be a good girl and do everything I tell you to, Jacqueline?" Thuckkkk!!-Thuckkkk!! Twice the bristle side of the brush banged into the gaping pussy.
"Awrrrowwwouuu!! ! Eeeyeeeowuuuuu!! ! ! Oh yes, I'll do anything-Oh my God, stop it, Dr. Andrews-oh my poor pussy-I'll do anything you want, if you'll only stop!"
Dr. Marsha Andrews released the whimpering, hysterical naked girl. Then she removed the blindfold and, substituting a leather dog whip for the hairbrush, cracked it in the air and commanded, in a hissingly insolent voice, "Get down on your knees then and lick my boots until I can see my face in them!"
She was frantically and avidly obeyed and poor Jacqueline Blee, thinking only of easing the torture in her burning bottom and cunt, knelt down and bowed her head and, her hands clasping one booted ankle, began to lick and suck the toe and the arch of the other boot till they gleamed.
"Now the other one!" was the order. This, too, was executed.
"Now then, Jacqueline, the rest of your punishment depends entirely upon how willing you are," the lesbian medico purred.
"I'll do anything, but please don't spank me any more. Oh, can't I take those awful things out of my poor b-bottom? They're just killing me-oh please!"
"You leave those pins in there. I myself will take them out and put an antiseptic on the wounds. Now, crawl up to me. Do you see the little flap that goes between by legs and hooks on to my corselet?"
"Y-yes-"
The whip came down diagonally over poor Jacqueline's tawny-sheened bare back. "Call me Doctor Andrews or Mistress, you dirty little slut!" the lesbian dominatress cried.
"Ahrrrr-oh yes, Dr. Andrews! For God's sake, don't whip me any more! Let me off any more! I'll do anything you want, I swear I will!" the prisoner shrieked. Tears flooded her cheeks and her small, firm, orange-like titties rose and fell violently with her emotions.
"All right. Reach between by legs and unhook that strap. You'll fina way to do it. Then roll it under the hems of my corselet. Then you can just put your hands on my bottom and go ahead and gam me. You'll find my pussy easily enough, once you get that strap out of the way, Jacqueline. Do it!"
Jacqueline Blee didn't wait for a second command. Servily, she reached between the dominatress' widely spread legs, found the strap and unfastened it, tucked it up under the hems of the corselet, and then, grasping the cheeks of Marsha Andrews' bottom, lowered her face to the furry snatch, extended her tongue and began to gouge inside of it. The leather whip cracked in the air, sometimes near the tawny flesh, but so long as Jacqueline's tongue continued to requite the lesbian medico, Dr. Marsha Andrews was quite content to continue this subjugational compulsion of the girl whom she now considered a thoroughly broken-in slave.
Jacqueline Blee had never shown the least lesbian inclination hitherto, but the loved to fuck with her boyfriend. She found her task now most odious, but the fiendish torture in her turning flesh reminded her that it would be most indiscrete for her to indicate the least abhorrence. Nevertheless, she screwed up her face and closed her eyes as her tongue dug back and forth in Dr. Marsha Andrews's moistening, twitching cunthole. And when the auburn-haired beauty found herself near the verge of come, she put her left hand out, twisted her gloved fingers in the flowing tresses of the unhappy young girl, and then applied a few deft cuts of the whip over the livid bottom and the deeply hollowed, bare, tawny-sheened back.
"Now get up and take off my corselet. And then come to bed with me. I'll teach you a thing or two, you little bitch!" she hissed. "I'll teach you obedience yet."
She was obeyed. She found herself naked save for boots and gloves, she made poor, weeping Jacqueline kneel before and beg humbly to kiss the whip, then go to bed with her and prove her obedience. Nor did she remove the pins until she had forced the young coppery-haired prisoner to lie on her back-despite the suffering which such a movement cost poor Jacqueline, as the delved-in pins worked back and forth in her tender ass-flesh. Then, crouching over Jacquelin's contorted, tearstained face, she presented the girl with her cunt and hissed, "Now gam me until I tell you to stop!"
Jacqueline again did not need a second invitation to obey. Fervently, her hand again clasping Marsha Andrews' naked ass, she proceeded to mouth and suck and kiss that tasty pussy. But this time, when Dr. Andrews reached the approach of climax, she made the girl desist. Then, flinging herself over Jacqueline's body, she began to pussyrub, while her hands reached under the unfortunate girl and grasped the very centers of those ass-cheeks where the spanking and pin-circles had been devised, and the girl's cried and writhing struggled added to the doctor's lascivious pleasure.