Her eyes moving from side to side as if the answer to all of her burning questions could be found in the air, hesitantly, Lina put her hands in front of her and leaned forward. The object in her bottom pushed against a new part of her body, and she exhaled at the overwhelming sensation.
“You have been quite the naughty girl,” Dr. Doyle commented. His hand was upon the skin of her rump as he made this declaration, reheating her skin, making the memory of the sting of Mr. Blackstone’s discipline rise to the surface of her skin, where it throbbed sharply. She could almost hear the crack of his cane in her ears, and a shudder gripped her.
Doyle’s fingers, like Mr. Blackstone’s, traveled to places she knew were forbidden, places she was not even supposed to touch. But they flitted over those parts and aroused her again, sliding into her slippery folds, and fluttering over the button at the center of it all that made her whole body jerk uncontrollably.
“The implement I hold in my hand is for discipline,” Doyle said quietly.
This alarmed Lina, and she looked back at him, taking in a sharp breath. “You are not... you will not cane me with it?” Lina said, panicked. She pressed herself up from the bent-over position she was in, but Doyle placed a hand on the small of her back and immobilized her.
“No real harm shall ever come to you when you are disciplined, Miss Blanchet. A true master must use discipline to correct, to punish, but not to harm. No, this is not an object for striking you. You may even grow to enjoy this discipline.”
She felt a wave of her juices well up and warmly rush between her legs. Her skin was hot with humiliation again. This wetness seemed to come whenever the two men disciplined her, or even spoke of discipline, and it was accompanied by a most pleasurable feeling inside of her. She wondered if they knew that the two were connected, and therefore, that they could also read her mind in a way.
The object in her bottom cut her train of thought short, for it was sliding from inside of her, roughly massaging her inner flesh as it was tugged along, leaving her empty as it did. She was surprised to be slightly distressed when it was at last gone, her insides throbbing in what seemed like a plea to have it returned. Her mouth was open again; she was strangely close to requesting that Dr. Doyle place it back inside of her.
But before she could even turn her head, before she could begin to beg, she felt something quite cold at the sore entrance to her bottom. She struggled to imagine what it was for a moment: it was so cold, and so smooth, and so much larger than—
“Oh!” she exclaimed, as it was suddenly pushinginward,but because it was ever-so-slightly thicker at its circumference than the object that had already penetrated her, she felt the searing stretch again, and it made her gasp. Her eyes watered, and the pain was just reaching a level that would make her cry out, when it peaked, and then, the object was simply inside of her. It twisted, and then the cool metal of the handle she had seen was laid against her back along her spine.
For a moment, Lina’s mouth was open in a curious “o,” for she could not fathom what the object might be for if it was some kind of discipline. Now that it was inside of her, she was almost relieved, for some of the fullness that had been taken from her had returned.
She heard the rattle of a piece of furniture as it slid across the floor and turned toward the sound to see Dr. Doyle scooting a footstool, covered in a fine blue fabric, toward her. He positioned it in front of her legs. “Kneel on this,” he told her, and so she obeyed.
The ball in her bottom rolled against her insides in new ways as she moved, but she would hardly call it a punishment.
“Rise up straight upon your knees, Miss Blanchet. Legs together, please.”
She obeyed, her stomach fluttering, wondering what he had in store for her.
He was doing something with the long rod that lay against her back. When he tugged on it, the ball moved and made her eyes flutter closed for a second. And then, suddenly, she felt herself being tugged upward, ever so gently, the ball pushing downward as the rod was pulled upward, so that she had to straighten her posture and rise up on her legs even higher to rid herself of the ache that the ball was imposing on her bottom-hole.
Doyle secured the rope he had used to pull upward on her to something above her. She waited, unsure of what to do next, or what would happen next, when Doyle slid something around her neck, a thick belt that felt like a collar. For a moment, a great fear seized her, for she was terrified that he might be hanging her, but he said, in a soothing voice, when she jumped in alarm, “Relax, Miss Blanchet, this is only to secure your hands.”
He lifted one arm and then the other to attach them, and not tightly, to the collar around her neck, so that her hands were immobilized next to her face, almost uncomfortably, and this is when the deviousness of the punishment began to reveal itself to her. For if she sank even a little from the kneeling position of the most strenuously erect posture, the metal ball was somehow pushed outward against her bottom-hole, causing a delightful but unbearable soreness and arousal.
“This device is called an anal hook, Miss Blanchet. When you slouch, even the tiniest bit, and you will want to after some time, to relieve your knees, or because your arms will become tired and you will allow them to hang rather than hold them up—the hook will do what I suspect it has just done, and deliver the sensation you felt against your bottom hole. It’s a very simple design really. I will leave you in it until you call me master, and beg me to forgive you for your naughtiness. Naturally, however, you shall be required to spend at least some time in this position so that you will learn your lesson. As such, I will be taking my leave and returning after an amount of time I hope will be sufficient to bring you to your senses.”
Lina could not move her head without causing the hook to abuse her bottom hole, and she could not think of anything to say, so she simply listened as Dr. Doyle exited the room.
This was not a terrible thought. In fact, she might even have smiled, for the worst that could happen was that the ball at the end of the anal hook would give her the dull, aching thrill that it did while she rested, and then she would simply rise up again, having had a nice little break and a thrill to boot.
* * *
Lina soon learned thatthis was not so simple. Her knees and arms grew very sore, much more quickly than she had thought, and any effort to relieve the weight from one leg or the other made the ball press against her. It did not so much cause her pain, as a soreness that was too pleasurable to endure, and worse yet, which stimulated the craving between her legs that she could not satisfy.
She began to feel exasperated, her skin growing hot, sweat gathering at the roots of her hair. At one point she moved frantically up and down, and discovered that the motion mimicked, in some way, the rubbing against the sensitive nub Mr. Blackstone had used to make her spend.
But she was not to do that, she reminded herself sharply.
She strained to look behind her to the door, as if she could better detect through the thick walls and endless corridors if Dr. Doyle were approaching. As she did this, she felt a stab of arousal in her center, and so she twisted the other way. She pressed her legs together and bounced up and down, and though it was very, very remote, she could feel the tiniest stimulation on the bud between her legs. It seemed, coming to her most naturally, that if she continued to do this, to give it these little stabs of pleasure, she might again be relieved of the horrible craving, by spending.
But the harder she worked at the endeavor, the more it aroused her, and never served to cure the need building up inside of her. Rivulets of sweat trickled down her back, snaking over her spine, nestling into the valley between her buttocks, licking her pleasantly sore hole with the promise of attention that would never be sufficient.
How long did she exert herself in the attempt? She would never know for certain, but it seemed like hours. With her body screaming for release, riding a wave that only grew larger and never crested, she at last gave up. She would do as Dr. Doyle had requested, when he returned, for there was no other option. She endured time on her knees, upright, for as long as she could, and then slowly settled into pressured slump that so tortured and aroused her, for as long as she could endure that.
She was alerted to the arrival of Dr. Doyle by the cool air that caressed her sweaty skin when he opened the door. He said nothing, and Lina was afraid to speak, for if she displeased him and received another minute of this discipline, she was afraid she might not endure it.
When he swept his fingers lightly down her back, a feathery caress from her neck to her lower back, and then further, between her buttocks, to the raw opening of her bottom, she gasped. “Oh!” she could not help breathing. He gently teased the circumference of her bottom hole, the light touch of his fingers teasing the soreness and the pleasure back to raging life.
