Anna's Ritual

Anna can't sit down today, well at least not comfortably. Nothing unusual in that; today is Saturday, and Anna is always rather circumspect about sitting down on Saturdays. By Monday she will be able to manage her office chair as long as it has her usual cushion, a nice soft fluffy one. But for now she sips coffee in her best friend Julie's kitchen standing up.

The reason Anna finds sitting rather less than comfortable is that her bottom is covered in black and blue welts. It seems to her, that it always is. But Saturday mornings is the time for reflection on this.

Her regimen is quite ordered. Friday nights are spent with Sir. Sir is her mentor and takes good care to discipline her faults. And there always seem to be faults, no matter how good a girl she has been (and she always feels like an adolescent girl again while she is around him). She can't quite resist spending money, or being rude to colleagues when they deserve it or whatever. No, Anna is far from perfect and Sir is right to make her uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.

Every Friday evening, she finishes work around 5:30 and hurries home. She mustn't be late or she'll really catch it! She always has to make excuses to her colleagues for missing the get together at the pub and it doesn't go down too well, but she can hardly tell them the truth. She was late once … and she had to take the following Monday off and could still hardly walk on the Tuesday. No, being late wasn't nice; Sir was a bit too strict for that to be pleasant.

Pleasant? Well yes, in fact her relationship with Sir was rather more than "pleasant". It was much more like the foundation of her existence. Sir was the one constant and dependable factor in her life. He was always there for her on Friday evening, and if it cost her a very sore bottom (and usually other parts of her anatomy) then she counted that a small price her the solace, comfort and friendship (and all right, let's admit it, the sex) that she derived from his company. And yes she had to own up to it, she took a great deal of physical and mental pleasure from his ministrations – whether they be the beatings or the intimacies that would often follow. Mentor or not, Sir was most proficient in his use of her body, and the pleasures always seemed the more intense when she was still smarting from having her hide tanned.

At home she bathes and gets dressed. Sir will inspect her meticulously, her dress, her make-up and her cleanliness. It hadn't taken long for him to find the secret pleasure she took from humiliation and now it is a key part of their routine for her to under-go a very thorough inspection when she arrives at his house. And woe betide her if he finds anything less than perfect.

Once all is ship-shape she drives around to pick up her friend Julie. This has been a relatively recent addition to her routine, and one that has been spectacularly successful. Sir had required her to find a person to witness her Friday night sessions to increase her humiliation. At first this had thrilled her with fright, but slowly she gathered up the courage to take her long time best friend Julie into her confidence. After getting over her shock at hearing about Anna's secret life, Julie agreed with alacrity to be a witness to her friend's tribulation. Anna thought Julie had agreed rather too readily, but after all, that was what Sir had required her to arrange so she had achieved her objective and could hardly complain.

It is Anna who drives to Sir's house. Julie will be driving home as Anna will on hands and knees on the back seat, weeping. It is always this way.

Sir answers the front door bell, dressed in a suit and tie. Sir is always the gentleman, although he is often a devil as well. After welcoming the two ladies into his lounge room, the rituals begin.

A sherry for Sir and Julie, poured by Anna who then stands in the centre of the room while those two talk about the world at large. As sherry is finished, the talk always comes around to the behaviour of young ladies, their deportment, their nasty habits and so on. A fidgeting Anna is brought suddenly to the focus of attention as Sir rises and tells her to present herself for inspection.

He walks around her, commenting on her hair, her perfume, complimenting her on her make-up – at least that which he can see. She colours when he asks if she has been as meticulous with the make-up he can't see.

Julie is rather helpful and points out that Anna's dress is wrinkled at the back where she has been sitting on it. Just a small crease, but Sir notes the imperfection. His voice has genuine sorrow in it as he remonstrates with Anna about slovenly dressing and asks Julie to make a note of "six extras – two specials". Anna squirms as she hears this – specials are not nice. For some reason, she is not especially grateful to her friend for pointing out her fault to Sir.

And then Anna's clothes come off. Stripping before Sir is one thing, but having to do it in front of Julie is quite another. It's so different from when the two women are modelling clothes for each other; the act of undressing is exactly the same, but the implications, the formal inspection, that one of them is undressing and the other is not all add up to a great deal of embarrassment for Anna.

Stripped to her underwear, the inspection continues. Sir's questions add to her shame. They are personal questions, and he hasn't even got to the really personal bits yet! Is her underwear clean? When she takes off her knickers, will he find the gusset wet? The very questions make her wilt and yet at the same time threaten to result in the very wetness she is so desperate to avoid. And all the time Julie sits there, grinning at her discomfort.

At Sir's order, Anna removes her bra, her knickers – yes they are rather damp, and it's rather difficult pulling them down with dignity over high heels while she dances first on one leg and then the other. She doesn't have to remove stockings. Sir prefers to beat her while she retains her stockings, suspender belt and high heels. He loves high heels on her, often tells her how they help to present her bottom to the cane so much better.

"Pick them up." The voice of command. She bends over and picks up the crumpled silk panties. She knows what comes next. She offers them to Sir. She's trembling. She tries to look away but he holds her in his gaze.

"They're soaking." Julie sniggers in the background. "I thought you said you'd put on clean ones girl." His voice is that of one in command. She quails, she's a little girl again and she's been very naughty.

At Sir's request Julie notes down twelve extras and this time six specials. Oh no, not six!

"Please Sir," Anna quails "I can't help it, I get so nervous and embarrassed and you know …"

"Yes, Anna. I know. You get so excited don't you?"

"No, Sir." she intones in a quavering voice barely heard.

"So, if I put my fingers to your sex, they would come away dry would they?" he imperiously questions, "And your nipples are standing so proud because you are cold perhaps?"

Anna is bright red and groans in defeat.

"Stand to attention miss." he orders. She resumes a stilted stance that might pass for attention in one of the lesser regiments.

"Julie would you be so kind as to note that Anna tried to lie, and has been caught doing so. Anna knows not to prevaricate with me. I award two dozen extras with the crop. Twelve specials and note that her breasts will be involved on this occasion! I will not be lied to." Sir is clearly in no mood to be trifled with!

Anna groans. Mortified, she hates breast whippings. If she takes pleasure in her beatings, these (and perhaps those between her legs) are the hardest to take. Pleasure only comes from those after they are well over and she can savour the memory of fire past. She admits to herself that it is quite a thrill through the week to stand in front of her mirror and gaze at the marks on her body as they change colour and slowly fade.

But the inspection continues. Stockings seem to have unaccountably got twisted – just a little, but enough for Julie to comment. Six strokes of the cane awarded for this small misdemeanour, but no specials this time.

"Just you wait you bitch," thinks Anna at this betrayal. But hardly has she had time to send the searing message from her eyes to her friend than her friend picks it up with a smile and draws Sir's attention to the disarray of Anna's garter belt. Disarray? It is barely off-centre, but truly the little embroidered bunch of flowers that marks the middle of the garment is at least half an inch to the left of Anna's navel.

She can't bear to hear Sir's pronouncement – another six.

And now Sir starts the most intimate section of the inspection. Intimate? Very. We start with Anna's breasts. He notes that there are no marks on them (from last week's session with the tawse). Perhaps he had been too lenient. Anna quickly assures him that her breasts smarted for several days afterwards, and thank you she felt he had been quite strict enough. Sir raised his eyebrows at this cheek! Watch it girl! But the truth is that her body has become accustomed to her frequent beatings and heals quickly. Now the evidence of the severest thrashings are gone in a week – just.

And now to the matter of cosmetics; the nipples were rouged the right colour? Sir asks Julie's opinion. Julie is rather rude and comments on Anna's tits being too saggy. Of course this isn't true but Sir forbears to remark on this. It is agreed that Anna has used the right colour and that the effect is rather pretty.

Julie is unkind enough to look into the cups of Anna's bra and notice that some of the colour has rubbed onto the white material.

"She should take more care of her expensive underwear", Julie opines. Sir can only agree and adds four specials to the others already decreed for her breasts. Julie remarks that it is only fitting as it is Anna's tits that have caused the offence. But why only four?

"Of course, they have to be nipple shots." Sir explains. "And we don't want to go overboard do we! Moderation in everything, I always say." Anna can only wince at the thought. She knows he will use the crop and that she will suffer the screaming agony later tonight and there is nothing she can do to prevent it. Sir does not give reprieves.

At Sir's command she lifts her arms high in the air. She scrunches her eyes in shame as Sir first rubs his fingers over her armpits and then imperiously leans forward to sniff them. It's not fair, Sir forbids her to wear deodorant, so how is she supposed not to perspire standing in this room under all this pressure.

"Well, you seem to have managed to shave properly, I'll give you that." he murmurs. "But I think you perspire more than is suitable for a young lady. Julie please note down a dozen strokes with the short tawse, six to each armpit."

This seems a bit rich to Anna. But she has the good sense not to complain. It would only cost her more and she's got enough coming her way tonight already. Anyway, she doesn't mind the attention to her armpits – as long as the tails don't wrap around to whip her breasts. That doesn't usually happen when Sir uses the short tawse, and anyway he likes to whip her armpits from the front so it should be OK.

Hands down to her sides now. Her back provides few pitfalls, though Sir is less than complimentary on her posture. But Sir regards her belly with a jaundiced eye. There are stern questions about her weight and her diet. Has she been exercising? Anna assures Sir that she has followed the strict regime he has laid down for her to the "T". But unfortunately Julie chimes in just as she thinks she has put it past him. She casually mentions how they went to the movies together on Wednesday instead of Anna going to the gym. She can remember how rude Anna was about "pulling the wool over Sir's eyes. He'll never know." Well now he does. I'm afraid it's rather too much of an offence to get off lightly. Oh no. It's two dozen with one dozen specials. Julie takes note that these (the specials) will attend madam between the legs and she grins heartily at the thought. Just at this moment, Anna doesn't like Julie very much.

Sir comments on Anna's legs. As usual he is rather complimentary about them. He says he doesn't need her to remove her stockings for him to see that she looks after her legs. At last, a little ray of sunshine enters Anna's heart. But not for long.

Now Sir's attention is drawn to her bare pubis. Bare because Sir requires it to be quite thoroughly shaven. He likes it that way. In fact she is required to wax her entire intimate area from mons to anus; ouch!! (or be waxed more to point – Julie is most helpful in this regard, the bitch. She really has taken a liking to hearing Anna scream! So much for best friends. "One day you'll get your come-upence, and I'll be there to serve it to you", muses Anna.) So she has suffered the tortures of hot wax to ensure that Sir will be pleased with her.

But, oh dear. Yes bare she is, but also leaking. The evidence of her excitement betrays her with silvery droplets at the tops of her thighs. On closer inspection, lower lips are rather altogether too glossy, even though she wears lipstick on her lower lips at Sir's request. There can be no denying the evidence. Sir remonstrates with good reason about self-discipline and maintaining decorum like a good young lady. The tally has now reached the maximum he allows for any single offence – two dozen (one dozen of specials and we know where they will go). Julie sniggers again. Her own panties are soaking wet and she's been sneaking fingers up her dress every now and again for the last ten minutes when Sir's concentrating on Anna.

Anna's humiliation at the discussion of her most private parts knows no bounds. Surely it can get no worse than this. But, oh dear, Sir requires her to bend over and touch her toes. So? After all there will be a lot of bending over shortly. But, no, no it's not fair! Sir is parting her buttocks and inspecting her anus! When did she last go? Has she had an enema as he requires? Is she properly clean? Anna bursts into tears at last. Sobs rack her body as she contemplates her misery. How could anyone retain a shred of dignity under such stern and unyielding questioning? But at last she provides Sir with the answers he requires. And in the end, it's only fair; after all Sir likes to avail himself of the pleasures of the back door to heaven so it is only natural he wants to make sure the rubbish has been taken out – so to speak. And yes, the path to heaven has been thoroughly lubricated, Sir tests the passage with three fingers, which enter her easily. She straightens at his command and sucks the proffered fingers clean of the clinging lubrication – another reason to ensure that her preparation is of the highest standard! The lubricant is her own recipe of oils and flavours as she knows she will get to taste it one way or another before the night is through!

The inspection is over at last. Sir notes that she has been found wanting and that retribution will follow shortly. However, before it does, the ritual of confession now unfolds. Anna finds tremendous solace in this ritual. For her it is the corner-stone of the entire relationship.

She kneels before Sir in her near naked state. It is now more than ever that she resents the intrusion of Julie. Julie is an interloper between two lovers right now. But she remains, at Sir's insistence.

The confession has almost truly religious connotations for Anna. It is the recognition of her faults through the week. The things done and not done. She dredges up her memory for each instance of imperfection and lays it before Sir. And Sir gently examines each sin as if he were truly her priest. He murmurs his understanding of her failures. Sometimes she goes into excruciating detail, but he always listens with infinite patience, never hurrying her or trivialising her travails.

The scene is charged with emotion. Sir whispers absolution and she weeps from gratitude. Tears fall steadily from her eyes, unheeded by her as she chokes out her stories of woe from the previous week. Sir collects the occasional tear on the tip of a finger and brings it to his lips. He cradles her head on his lap and she falls in love with him all over again. In her turn she silently forgives him for all the humiliations he has heaped upon her this evening and for all the pain he is about to extract. She loves her mentor all the more for the travails he requires her to undergo.

As with all true confessions, there is a penance to be ascribed. It is not a light one, but part of it is to be delayed … next week Anna will bring with her several garlands of stinging nettles. She has felt these on her bottom before and knows that her sojourn will be severe. But for this week, a riding crop will grace her buttocks and thighs two dozen times; that is, over and above the thrashing that would ordinarily befall her and the other punishments she has already earned this evening. But she asks for no mercy. Absolution must be paid for after all if it is to mean anything. It is what she came for. And tonight she is hungry to pay the price. Hungry for the sting of the cane. As the time for atonement approaches she is impatient for its bite.

The formalities of the first half of the event are complete. It is now intermission. Anna, of course, makes coffee and serves Sir and Julie. While she is in the kitchen, she thinks she hears a lot of rustling, moans and the odd shriek coming from the lounge. She notices that Julie's sopping wet knickers are lying on the floor and that she is curled up on the settee with that "cat's got the cream" look in her eyes.

"I bet she's got a half a box of tissues stuck up her cunt" thinks Anna rather uncharitably. But she doesn't make a scene; and using a word like "cunt" would most certainly earn her a lecture and a rather painful penalty. She has enough punishment coming her way just now thank you. If Sir wants to fuck her friend then he has every right to do so. But it irks her that she should have gone through so much unfulfilled excitement and frustration in the previous hour only to have some other female getting the stuffing she so desires.

When the coffee cups and cake plates are cleared away. Anna returns to the lounge.

"We''ll start with a nice warming up over my lap," says Sir nonchalantly as he sits on a straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. Anna is virtually naked, her stockings and garter belt framing her bottom perfectly for the tanning it is about to receive. She places herself across his lap with as much dignity as she can muster. There will be scant amount of it left when she is finished this evening.

Sir's bare hand can be soft and gentle when he caresses her. Like right now as he strokes her bare bottom. His fingers dip between her thighs and sample her honey pot. It always amazes her how her juices seem to flow so constantly during the time she is with Sir (or just thinking of Sir). But the moment passes, and now his hands are not gentle. And hands, plural it is. Because Sir spanks her with his left hand and then he has her reverse position so that he can bring his right to bear.

Sir spanks methodically. He knows that smacking the same area constantly increases the pain substantially rather than letting the sting fade quickly as other parts are smacked. And so it is ten hard slaps to each buttock and each upper thigh (she wishes he would stick to her bottom). And then she is required to slip off his lap and quickly lie in the other direction. She does this several times, amassing a substantial number of spanks. But there is no counting for this preliminary adventure.

Anna knows that she must not try to shield her bottom. It is far too expensive to her flesh for her to try. Sir cured her of that annoying habit by her third visit. The standard penalty was six strokes of the cane to the offending hand (or six each if both had the temerity to be involved). The punishment is meted out immediately. On her first visit, she had suffered terribly and had not been able to hold a pen until the middle of the following week!