Tied For Punishment

Poor Juliette, spanked already and now she’s being put into strict bondage for the whipping that’s to come:

She then dragged Juliette to the couch and flung her face downwards so that the lower part of her belly and the top of her thighs rested right on the cushions. This naturally raised her bottom and thighs, making her body form a very broad inverted V.

“But what’s the meaning of this?” she said as she saw the cheeks of the poor bottom still blushing slightly from my recent smacking. “Do you mean to say you’ve dared?” she went on, turning to me. “Oh, you, just wait.”

She said no more but took hold of Juliette’s right ankle and pulled the leg towards the edge of the couch. Then, stooping down, she caught hold of a silk cord that was fixed to the side of the couch, evidently for that purpose. It had a running loop at the end. This she slipped over the girl’s foot and drew it tight. She then pulled the other leg as far apart as possible and fixed that in the same way.

Poor Juliette was now perfectly spread-eagled. Her arms were above her head tied at the wrists, her head was buried in the couch. Her bottom was raised, as I have said, by the ridge of cushions and seemed to invite the lash, and her wide-opened thighs revealed the mossy lips of her pussy, still slightly open. There she lay, a piteous little figure, all white. The only contrast was her dark hair, slight silky tendrils in her armpits, the suggestive shadow between the cheeks of her bottom, the soft curls between her legs, and last of all, showing up vividly against the whiteness of her skin, her long black silk stockings, just a study in black and white, no touch of colour anywhere, for she wore black garters. I feasted my eyes on the lovely vision. How could anyone, I wondered, hurt such a dainty graceful creature?

I looked at Muriel. Her eyes showed clearly that she was by no means insensible to the alluring picture. But there was a gleam of fierceness as well as admiration in her glance.

“Now,” she said suddenly, “I must get rid of my corsets. I shan’t be long. You can admire the dainty darling’s white skin while I’m gone. There won’t be much white left after I’ve finished with her,” and she went quickly into her bedroom, leaving the door open.

From Sadopaideia (1907).

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