44 minutes ago
"Amelia! Amelia! Pay attention to your aunt," Jamie's voice cut into Amelia's reverie.Despite the pain, Amelia feels the tingle of pleasure we all know so well. Next week will be the final installment of Hall of Infamy. What will be the cousins' fate? Stay tuned!
"Stand up, please, my dear."
Amelia's mouth went dry as she saw her aunt produce the evil little paddle, and slap it into the palm of her hand with a sickening crack.
"Jamie, be a dear, and peel those bloomers off her bottom, if you don't mind?"
For a moment, Amelia very nearly bolted. It was insane. Pinioned in her back-board bondage, where was there to go? What on earth could she do? It was not the fear of the nasty thing in Lady Alicia's hand, though that fear was real enough. It was the shame. Amelia heard a score of conversations trail away and knew with sickening certainty that the eyes of half of Hatherby were now firmly fixed on her rear.
Somehow she managed not to bolt. The thought of whooping stable-boys chasing her across the lawns helped to keep her in her place. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as Jamie took a firm grip of the waist of her pantaloons and began to tug.
"The trollop is not looking so haughty today, eh?"
"I do hope her Ladyship fairly skins that bottom for the stuck-up little bitch!"
"All right now, darling," Lady Alicia's rich tones cut through the general raillery. "Come and put yourself over my knee."
Amelia went almost eagerly. Eager, she was at least, to get the ordeal over with and to regain some shred of modesty.
Her aunt helped her, as she could not use her arms for balance, to lower herself over the Marchioness's silk-skirted lap. The smock rode up in the process and she was horribly aware that her bottom was now naked for the amusement of the picnickers. Had she not been so aware, the comments would soon have enlightened her.
"By God, what a lovely arse!"
"Sweet as a peach. That bum would be a tender treat for any man!"
Amelia felt a hand gently stroke her naked buttocks.
"Mais oui, her skin is still as smooth as a baby's!"
Amelia endured Mademoiselle Isobel's fondling, and tried to close her ears to the comments of the crowd. Despite the depth of her humiliation, her clitoris still throbbed urgently. She shifted on her aunt's lap, seeking to press her tingling nub against something more substantial than skirt silk, but to no avail.
"Your bottom will be the toast of Hatherby tonight, Amelia," Aunt Alicia said fondly.
Amelia hung her head in utter shame.
The first stroke of the paddle put her humiliation in sudden and very sharp perspective. It felt as if her skin had been set on fire.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Lady Alicia brought the paddle down in quick succession. Amelia was engulfed in an atrocious wave of pain.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Amelia had witnessed the effects on Clara and had known that the little paddle with the drill-holes would be bad. Part of her, though, had decided that her cousin was feeble to have cried so bitterly and wriggled so much under its strokes.
Now she knew better.
The pain was extraordinary. Like the birch, it scalded the surface of her tender skin without dulling the nerves.
"Ow! Ooooh! Owwwwww!" she yelped and groaned and gasped as the strokes rained down on her unprotected rear.
"Stop that silly kicking, Amelia, or you will get even more strokes."
By the end, Amelia was half-delirious from the pain. Consciousness came back slowly, in fragments of awareness that there was something else in the world, apart from excruciating pain.
"Good show, your Ladyship. She felt that, I'll warrant!"
"By God, that bum looks like a skinned tomato."
Amelia blew and gasped and sucked in much needed air. The paddling had stopped, she realised slowly. The pain must be subsiding, though that was difficult to comprehend, for her poor bottom and thighs were still in a state of scorching agony.
A pat, or was it a smack? Her bottom was now so tender it was impossible to tell; it made her squeal helplessly again.
"Tsk, tsk, Amelia. No need to make such a fuss. Get down and stop snivelling, girl."
Whimpering pitifully, Amelia was made to stand between her aunt and Jamie. The position placed her excruciatingly tender bottom easily within the reach of both her tormentors. She gasped as Jamie grasped her right buttock and squeezed.
"Good Lord, Amelia," he grinned, "it feels as if you have been sitting on a hot stove!"
Amelia could not prevent the tears from coursing down her cheeks. Worse, she could feel more moisture trickling down her inner thighs from her naked quim. The slight breeze made the fluid feel cold, and horribly obvious, on her skin.