Beatrice d'Lisle
by obohobo
Chapter 1 Early days
"So Emma, you refused to accompany me to London," barked Lady Beatrice d'Lisle.
The statement was accompanied by the swish and thwack of the cane as it landed
on the quivering buttocks of the maid strapped over the ottoman. Smiling to
herself, she watched the stripe redden and the welt begin to rise. It formed a
line across both cheeks broken in the centre by the arse crease. The stripes of
an earlier caning were still faintly visible and she knew Emma's bum was still
tender. It was just a week ago, the young buxom maid had been chastised over the
same chest.
"Arhh! Sorry, M'lady, I didn't want to leave my boyfriend for such a long time
and go so far away." Emma stuttered a reply. However, Beatrice knew the real
reason. The maid hated her. She hated the canings she received, she hated what
her mistress made her do. She wanted a man to make love to her, not a woman.
"Don't lie, girl, I've heard you talk to the other girls saying how much you
would like to get away from this place." Beatrice punctuated the sentence with
another two strokes of the cane. Emma cried out but that only resulted in a
fourth stripe.
"I know why you didn't want to accompany me. You thought that while I was away,
the master would let you sit around doing nothing. Well, if I go without you,
then you may be sitting around doing nothing.... at the hovel you call home with
that drunken father of yours. Which is it to be? Pack your bags and come with me
or pack your bags and leave altogether?"
By now there were eight welts across Emma's arse and she was sobbing
hysterically. Her pleas for mercy, as she knew they would, fell on deaf ears.
She also knew she had no real choice; she had to go with her ladyship. At least
she would be clothed and fed and receive a few pennies into the bargain.
Punishments for minor infringements of her duties had to be accepted, as did the
woman to woman love making. It wasn't something that was talked about in the
best of circles but everyone knew it went on, indeed it was the main reason for
Beatrice wishing to go to London. Lady Penelope Merryfield had invited her down
to the city with the promise of some lady sport and being introduced to some of
the society residents in London during the 'season'.
Under the threat of further punishment for her ungracious behaviour, sobbingly
Emma agreed to accompany Beatrice as her maid. At this Lady Beatrice threw the
cane on to a nearby chair and studied the livid stripes running across the plum
backside. Fingering and squeezing the tender flesh, she smiled with
satisfaction. The stripes were all parallel across both cheeks and were going to
be tender for a very long time. She loved to mercilessly thrash the girls and
the boys under her control. She loved the power she had over them. They were
just servants, there to do her bidding.
Beatrice rubbed her hands over both arse cheeks and then slipped one between
Emma's thighs. From previous experience Emma knew to open her legs and give her
mistress access to her private parts. Her mistress inserted a finger up her
vagina and then nipped her clitoris between thumb and forefinger. It wasn't an
unpleasant sensation but Emma just wanted to be out of the room and to be able
to put cold water on the fiery stripes.
Beatrice had other plans. Releasing Emma, Beatrice sat on a chair. She lifted
her dress and under garments. "Wipe your eyes girl, I don't want you wetting my
dress. Then put your mouth to better use than refusing to do what you are
requested."
Emma crawled to her mistress and placed her mouth upon the offered cunt. It was
already wet with her sexual juices. Emma lapped at them. Her tongue probed the
opening and lapped at the moisture. Beatrice held the girl tightly to her cunt.
The caning had stimulated her and she needed release and this girl's tongue was
going to give it. Emma plumbed the vagina entrance with her tongue and sucked on
the clitoris bud as she had been taught. Beatrice began to writhe as the climax
approached and then gave a load groan as it overwhelmed her. The pair were still
for a minute or two and then Beatrice kicked the maid away. In doing so Emma
fell back and sat down hard on the wooden floor. She cried out in pain but hard
hearted Beatrice, only told her to stop making a fuss. "You should be thankful
you are not looking for another job without any references," she added. "We
leave in the morning so make sure you are up to get me ready."
*******
Emma started work as a cook's assistant at the isolated mansion in
Northumberland when she was seventeen years old. This was older than most but
her grandmother had insisted and paid for her to stay at school. Her grandmother
was born in Germany and had been brought from her homeland thirty years
previously. When Emma's mother had died she took her in and raised her. Emma's
grandfather spent a good deal of time abroad and unfortunately was killed in a
tragic coach accident in France when Emma was twelve years old. Her grandmother
was inconsolable at her loss and unfortunately died five years later. At her
death most of her money went to other relatives and Emma had to look for work.
In the wild moorland areas there was little but farm work or in house service.
However, being bright and able to read, Emma was soon transferred to housemaid
duties. Six months ago she caught the eye of her mistress who decided this
delectable girl would make her a good personal maid. It was then Emma's life
changed for the worse. Now she was subjected to severe punishments at the whim
of her mistress and she had to tend to Beatrice's personal needs. Now at 18
years old, she was hoping to find a man to marry and get her out of this
situation but she only had one day off a month to see the boy she knew from her
school days and he was only a farm labourer. The men around the house were
either taken or in no better situation that she. They wouldn't be able to afford
to marry her and take her away.
Beatrice was spoilt at as a child. Her mother knew she should never be able to
have another. The delivery of Beatrice had been particularly difficult and the
doctor had advised against further children. Never-the-less, six years later she
unfortunately conceived. Again delivery was extremely difficult and the baby
died a few hours after birth. Her mother became depressed and her health
deteriorated until after six months she too died.
Lord Henry d'Lisle doted on his daughter and gave her everything she wanted. It
amused him to see her at only eight years old, try to take charge of the
servants and order them about. This encouraged her and over the years she became
more and more domineering and delighted in punishing those in her charge. Lord
Henry thought it would be something she would grow out of but he was often away
and the servants had orders to obey her as they would him. The staff more and
more grew to fear her. In any case, Lord Henry too liked beating his staff,
especially the females, and he would often encourage his daughter to punish one
or other of his servants for him.
Beatrice had a particular reluctance to accept men as being superior to her and
did all she could to reduce their dominance. This was the eighteenth century
when women were always expected to acquiesce to their male counterpart but
Beatrice did all she could to prove herself their equal. The sex act
particularly galled her. Even at a young age she had witnessed men and women
fucking. She noted how the woman always seemed to be on her back and pinned down
by the man while he thrust into her with brutal severity. It was the same with
the farm animals. Always the male forced its way into the female and held her
until he finished. Beatrice was determined that wasn't going to happen to her.
In her thirteenth year she was wandering past some of the farm hands who were
haymaking. One young fellow new to the farm called out to her, "Look what we
have here. A nice young bitch come to keep us company. Howd'ya like what I've
got to give ya?" His hand cupped his crotch. One of the other lads hissed at him
to hold his tongue but her kept up his jeering comments.
Livid with anger, Beatrice ordered the foreman to tie the lad's hands to the
branch of an overhanging tree. Despite some struggling, the lad who had come
down from Scotland to find work and whose name she learned was the generic
'Jock' was soon suitably fastened. Jock, still truculent, continued to bait her
with his comments. "What are you going to do now miss? Spank me? With that
little hand it should tickle!"
Beatrice turned to the other lad whom she knew by name, she ordered, "Henry, go
to that hedge and cut me a switch." Minutes later he returned with a small
branch. Jock laughed, "You are going to tickle me!"
Angry now almost beyond reason, she ordered Henry to cut a proper switch "One at
least this long." She spread her arms to indicate about 4 feet. "And make sure
it is good and whippy or I'll use it on you as well." Henry went pale but
hurried off and returned with an osier somewhat longer than she requested. He
spent a short time whittling the leaves from it before handing it to Beatrice.
"Yes, that seems better," she murmured as she swished the rod through the air.
Her anger began to dissipate as the sense of power she had from wielding the rod
grew. "Bend over Henry, I want to test this rod you've brought."
Henry knew better than refuse. Refusal of a punishment always resulted in worse.
He bent down and displayed his buttocks while wondering if he would be allowed
to keep his breeches on. The answer came as the rod cracked across his arse.
"Argh!!" he yelled and almost stood up before returning to the punishment
position.
"Seems a suitable rod, Henry. Now go and remove Jock's breeches and we'll see
what it does to his bare bottom."
As the centre of attention, Beatrice was now in her element. Surrounded by the
men and women of the haymaking group, she set about humiliating Jock as much as
she could. She would make him pay for his remarks. Henry lowered Jock's breeches
and then was ordered to tuck the shirt out of the way so he was completely bare
from the waist to the knees. Jock was silent now. He realised he had gone too
far and should have heeded Henry's advice. Beatrice, he now knew was the
Master's daughter and literally the whip hand around the place.
Taking her time and calming herself, Beatrice walked around the tethered boy
only a few years older than herself. She smiled when she saw his cock was
semi-erect but made no comment. Quietly swishing the osier in the air as if
getting the feel of it, she twice made a circuit around Jock. "Not so much to
say now have we, my man?" she mocked the boy as she passed in front of him. The
sight of the lovely young girl caused Jock's cock to rise still further but
Beatrice appeared to ignore it until suddenly turning she swung the cane
viciously down across the end of his manhood and then brought it smartly up
again. Jock yelled at the top of his voice and several of the onlookers cried
out too but the two strokes had the desired effect and the cock almost
immediately deflated.
"First you are rude, and then you have the audacity to show off your cock in
front of me and all these others. I not a child and I do not take kindly to that
sort of behaviour as you will now find out." Standing behind and to one side of
the boy she proceeded to crack the rod across his buttocks. She laid them on in
an unhurried way and although as yet not too experienced especially with a
moving target that was only held by wrists tied above the head managed to keep
most of the strokes parallel with each other and fairly evenly spaced. Starting
at the top of the taut cheeks she whipped a dozen strokes on the naked flesh
ending with a couple of stripes across the top of the thighs.
Jock tried not to scream as he took the first stroke. He heard the swish and
then felt the searing pain fire into his arse. He cried out at the second stroke
and yelled and sobbed at each one that came after. He begged and pleaded but
Beatrice was intent on making an example of him and showed no mercy. Indeed she
felt so alive and drugged by the power she had and the ability to inflict pain,
she couldn't have stopped if she had wanted to.
After applying the dozen strokes Beatrice walked in front of the now sobbing and
crying lad. "Do I get an apology now?" she asked.
"Sorry, M'lady." Jock could hardly speak for the pain.
"Well I suppose that will have to do for now." Beatrice turned to the foreman,
"See he does his normal work for the rest of the afternoon and then bring him
back here and fasten him again so I can inspect his bottom to see if he is
sufficiently punished or whether he needs more. I shall also expect a proper
apology then." Turning to Henry she ordered him to place the rod in a damp place
so that it might be ready if required later and then ordered Hilda, a girl of
her own age, to come and fetch her when they had their tea. With that she walked
away.
As ordered, Hilda went to the kitchen at tea time and one of the maids informed
Beatrice that Jock was again tied and ready for her inspection. Deliberately
waiting for fifteen minutes, Beatrice leisurely strolled to the haymakers. Jock
had been hanging there for over half an hour and his arms were very tired. His
arse still hurt like hell and although the foreman hadn't been hard on him, he
had made him try and work. "If she comes and finds you not doing your share,
then we'll all catch it as well," he told the lad. The hot sweaty work in the
sun, had caused the breeches to chafe badly on the raw skin and it was now very
inflamed. In fact it was a relief to have his breeches removed ready for the
inspection. Some of the girls taunted him by asking if he was going to get hard
again when her ladyship arrived but most showed sympathy but dared do nothing to
ease the pain at this stage.
"Has he worked this afternoon?" Beatrice asked the foreman. Old George knew
better than to lie. "He did what he could, M'lady but of course swinging a
scythe isn't easy when you backside muscles don't work."
"But you did make him do it?"
"Yes. M'lady."
"Good. Now lets have a look." Even she was somewhat surprised by the state of
Jock's bottom but she tried not to show it. She felt the flesh and gave one of
the cheeks a squeeze which caused Jock to jump and howl. Walking in front of him
she noted his soft cock and then said, "Have you anything to say to me boy?"
Jock would have liked to have said many things but the others had briefed him to
beg most humbly for forgiveness and to say how sorry he was for causing her such
annoyance. "Well there are plenty more canes and I will willingly use them if
you haven't learned your lesson," Beatrice snapped. "George, make sure he
finishes his day's work here and that he does a proper days work tomorrow." She
gave the orders with authority that belied her thirteen years.
