Chapter 2
It was a boisterous crowd that jammed the prison yard, braving the early
morning chill to witness the public flogging and humiliation of the
young Mistress Hamilton. They had been gathering since dawn to obtain
favorable positions of viewing. Unlike the common harlots who
ordinarily earned the cart tail whippings, the haughtiness and vivid beauty
of the Lord of Brockhurst's daughter promised to be a rare treat for
the expectant townsfolk. Outside the prison gate, the sides of Burton
Avenue, the first street of the cart tail procession, were also lined with
eager onlookers, all anxious for a view of the Lady Ashley's naked shame
as she endured her painful degradation.
The clip-clop of horse's hoofs and the creak of wooden wheels on the raised
cobblestones announced the arrival of the cart. In it rode two men, the driver
and the flogger. The driver was slouched in his seat, his hat pulled down low on
his head. Next to him sat Rubin James, the man chosen to flog the Earl's
daughter. Master James, a solidly-built man in his mid-forties, was one of
the jailers at Cranwell prison. His experience and expertise with the lash
made him a frequent choice of the court for the cart tail whippings. The man's
hairy arms were bare outside his sleeveless leather jerkin, and coiled in his
strong hands was the single-thonged whip that would sear the Lady Ashley's
tender flesh. As the cart rolled to a stop, the flogger stepped down and the
crowd looked expectantly at the heavy oaken door of the jail. They knew that
the Earl of Brockhurst's daughter was inside, awaiting her
court-ordered punishment and degradation. Several minutes passed, then a
scraping sound was heard as the locking bolt was drawn and the thick door swung
open.
A hush fell over the spectators as the Lady Ashley Hamilton
appeared. Two guards flanked the condemned young noblewoman and they each
grasped one of her arms as they escorted her outside. They stopped
at the rear of the waiting cart, and the Earl's daughter shook off the
men's awkward hands. The sentenced beauty stood erect, her fiery blue eyes
staring indifferently above the heads of the crowd, her lovely face a graven
image of defiance. At a sign from the flogger, the two guards each seized
one of the girl's wrists and made them fast to the cart tail with lengths of
stout hempen cord. The Lady Ashley grimaced as the chafing bonds bit into the
soft skin of her slender wrists. She then glanced briefly over her shoulder
and saw her stern-faced executioner step forward.
A murmur of anticipation could be heard among the gathered onlookers
as they eagerly awaited the lustful and delicious spectacle that they would be
privileged to see. It was not every day that the common citizens of Covington
saw a lady of quality, so young and beautiful, stripped naked and flogged for
their delectation. And the haughtiness of the Lady Ashley's attitude, along
with her vivid and sensual beauty, stirred in the hearts of the crowd the
lascivious urge to see her fully taste the bitter draught of suffering and
ignominy she had coming to her.
The sentenced young martyr felt the callused hands of Rubin James at the
neck of her gown. She heard a tearing sound and felt the heat of the
morning sun on her bare shoulders as he ripped the garment down. The
renting of the dress did not stop at the Lady Ashley's waist but continued until
the tattered remnants lay festooned at her feet.
In order to shorten the shaming preparation for her flogging, the
Lord of Brockhurst's daughter had left off her stays and petticoats and wore
only a chemise and camisole under her dress, along with her white batiste
drawers. Presented in this scanty and provocative dishabille, the defiant
penitent stared unblushingly ahead as a gasp of admiration rose at the
sight of her voluptuous, graceful body so tautly presented with extended arms
and bound hands.
Next to be ripped off was the chemise, which left the Lady Ashley's opulent
bosom covered only by her camisole, a thin garment with straps that extended to
about her midriff. The blonde beauty's firm, juttingly-rounded, conical shaped
breasts, with their hard, dark coral tips prodded impudently against the silky
material and the whispered comments of the anxious townspeople grew louder.
Rubin James, having his own sense of the dramatic now paused, prolonging
the suspense of his audience. To the peasants, he was the Stage Master to
the only theater most of them would ever likely know. With studied effect he
slowly reached forward then sharply tore away the flimsy garment from his
victim's shoulders.
A great sigh of awe announced the denuding of the Lady Ashley's magnificent
bosom. The erect and arrogant globes of her breasts, ripe melons of pale
creamy flesh, thrust out boldly, their turgid pink nipples stiffening in
the cool morning air. The condemned noblewoman's sweet flat belly and the
dainty niche of her navel was also exposed as she stood naked save for her
drawers.
The spectators' attention now shifted to the tightly-molded, white,
batiste sheath of the young mistress's only remaining undergarment. The
solid, enticingly-contoured, cheeks of her buttocks with which her supple,
beautifully-sculptured thighs merged, promised a highly entertaining
spectacle when the drawers should be removed and those resilient, pale
white globes would quiver and dance under the stinging strokes of the flogger's
whip.
Rubin James extracted the ultimate response from his helpless prey's
lingering prelude before he placed his strong fingers on the waistband of her
drawers. The Lady Ashley's lovely face remained expressionless as she felt
her chastiser pull the waistband open and slowly peel the garment down from the
glories of her prominently-jutting posterior.
The crowd stared agog at this last libidinous unveiling of the Earl's
daughter's final shield of modesty. The jailer drew the batiste sheath down
inch by inch, gradually uncovering the plump curves of his victim's
velvety-sheened, lower hemispheres. Muscular ripplings shook those
temptingly-ripe, succulent bottomglobes and the narrow furrow which
separated them gradually broadened at the base, hiding its mystery in the
shadowy groove there.
A faint blush pinkened the pale cheeks of the Lady Ashley's
finely-featured face as she felt her drawers slither to her feet leaving her
entirely nude in all of her insolent beauty. The defiant penitent had schooled
herself for this moment as she gazed far and away above the heads of
the crowd, meeting the eyes of none.
The lustful men in the audience stared avidly at the Callyphigian beauty
of the bound girl's beautifully-contoured lower hillocks, reveling in the sight
of that creamy expanse of maiden flesh. Beneath the young woman's dimpled
navel at the juncture of her rounded thighs, thick dark golden curls shielded
her plump Venus mount from the besmirching eyes of the townspeople.
Sensing that her time of atonement was imminent, the Lady Ashley
stepped clear of the remnants of her rocked down and tattered clothing, the
full-fleshed cheeks of her bared behind jiggling salaciously with her movements.
She looked back over her soft white shoulder and saw Rubin James reach for the
coiled whip tucked in his belt. The blonde beauty turned her head forward
and set her teeth against her underlip as she waited for the cart's
forward movement and the resulting tug on her tethered wrists that would signal
the beginning of her shameful and painful Calvary.
Lady Ashley Hamilton watched apprehensively as the driver gathered the
reins and bestirred the horse to motion. The heavy wooden wheels groaned and
the cart rolled into motion. Bound as she was, the young noblewoman
followed, bare breasts bobbing and hindcheeks shuddering with each
trudging step.
The flogger's whip sought her at the fifth step as the lash sang through
the air to wrap around the slim shoulders of the naked young woman. The Lady
Ashley's nude body arched in shock as her head reared and she clamped her lips
tightly together to stifle her scream. Being whipped on the back was a new pain
for the defiant blonde beauty as her previous chastisements both at home
and in boarding school had been directed to her plump nether regions instead.
In an age that could not be condemned for excessive sentimentality,
the high spirited young mistress's backside had been no stranger to the punitive
rod during her years of growing up. She had spent many a time bent over the
foot rail of her bed while her stern father belabored her naked behind with a
strap or riding crop. And at Birchwood Girl's Academy, the young Lady Ashley's
hoydenish nature had earn her numerous bare bottom session with the martinet or
cane.
A high-pitched whistle preceded the second stroke which diagonally striped
the alabaster smoothness of the lovely martyr's magnificently-sculptured,
milky back. Under this second searing pain, the Lady Ashley bit down hard on
her lower lip as her body jerked convulsively and the delicate wings of her
nostrils flared with the afflux of quickened breathing. The bite of the lash
on her bare back seem to spread throughout her nerves and down along the
tethered beauty's gracefully-curve spine. Staring defiantly ahead, the Lady
Ashley maintained her attitude of indifference as the cart exited the prison
yard and started down Burton St.
Those spectators who had been present for the stripping of the condemned
noblewoman and the first strokes of her punishment, now scrambled for
vantage points among the throngs of people already in place along the sides
of the street. Amidst the jostling and unruly protestations of the surging
onlookers, the third lash curled around the unprotected waist of the
naked young beauty.
A hiss of sucked in breath attested to the stinging smart of the
accurately placed stroke, and the Lady Ashley looked down in dismay at the
flickering wisp of the thong as it wealed the tender flesh of her stomach just
inches from her dimpled navel. Under the impetus of the blow, she
stumbled momentarily before recovering, her bare breasts bouncing
erratically with her faltering steps.
The crowd of onlookers following the cart tail procession
gazed appreciatively at the yet unblemished smoothness of the future
mistress of Brockhurst's naked buttocks, foreseeing the next stroke of the
whip to fall upon those proudly-independent hillocks. And as she trudged
disconsolately along in her shaming penance, the Lady Ashley anticipated the
arrival of the whip's naked fury and instinctively tightened the wobbling
cheeks of her behind in hopeless defense.
Rubin James surveyed the firm ripe mounds of his lovely victim's
creamy-skinned posterior, deliberating patiently before he slowly drew back
his arm. The Lady Ashley heard the chorused gasp of the crowd, foretelling her
that the whip was en route to deliver its fiery kiss. Then her tethered body
jerked fitfully as fire laced the twin globes of her bare behind,
imprinting a crimson stripe on that lush canvas of Callyphiqian delight.
The stung nether cheeks of the Lady Ashley's naked buttocks
crispened at once under the burning smart of the whip and her eyes
opened wide as her head lifted and her blonde tresses tumbled to her
shoulders. The uncontrollable jiggling and quaking of the condemned beauty's
welted bottom was a lascivious treat of the townspeople as the Earl of
Brockhurst's daughter sustained the fourth stroke of her punishment.
The gathered assemblage watched intently as they waited eagerly for the next
lash to fall. Many diverse emotions ran through their minds; amusement,
lust, ribaldry, distaste, maybe compassion. Men, women, even children
were in attendance for the delivering of a lady of quality to be whipped
and degraded for their pleasure. And while some of the women present might
have felt a sense of outrage or indignation at a member of their own
sex so shamefully exposed, the infamy of the Lady Susan's crimes and
her aristocratic arrogance gave them a feeling of just vindication
instead.
The fifth stroke of the flogger's whip plucked at the buttery flesh of the
proud beauty's naked buttocks and her lithe body twisted and writhed as she
tugged futilely at her bound wrists. A second resonant weal scored the satiny
smoothness of the Lady Ashley's fair-skinned bottom and her quivering
bottomcheeks contracted voluptuously in response.
The courageous young martyr blinked back the tears that stung her eyes as
she bowed her head and took several deep breaths to prepare herself for the next
onslaught of pain. She lifted her eyes to the hunched figure of the driver and
stared accusingly at the tailgate to which she was bound and forced to follow.
With measured precision, Rubin James delivered two more sweeping strokes
to the plump rotundities of the Lady Ashley's helplessly-proffered
nether regions. The jellied mounds of the lovely sufferer's whipped
buttocks bounced heavily as each lash landed and her heaving breasts rose and
fell as she struggled to retain her composure. Yet even as tears began to
trickle down her flushed cheeks, the defiant young noblewoman answered the
mocking stares of the crowd with a look of aloof contempt.
Now Master James directed his attention to his trudging victim's full,
gracefully-curved thighs, knowing from experience that a woman's thighs
are often more tender than her bottom. He admired the young mistress's proud
courage as she strove valiantly to withhold her cries, but the jailer knew that
his whip would win this battle of wills. And to that end, he swept the
next lash across both naked upper thighs, just below the base of that
voluptuously-provocative, welted backside.
The Lady Ashley's nude body stiffened and her face lifted as a
barely audible groan of "Aahhh!" was torn from her desperately compressed lips.
Under the impetus of this blow on the sensitive flesh of her thighs, she
awkwardly hopped forward, delighting the crowd with the jiggling of her breasts
and the waggling of her red-streaked bottom ovals.
For the first time since her whipping began, the Lady Ashley glanced back
over her shoulder and regarded the grim figure of her executioner. Her
tear-wet eyes still blazed defiantly despite the scorching heat of her
chastisement. The courageous, young beauty bowed her head and steeled
herself for the resumption of her shaming martyrdom, the delicate wings
of her nostrils flaring as she panted for breath.
The whistling lash continued its inexorable descent down the Lady Ashley's
lush nudity as it once more stung the soft flesh of her thighs before delivering
its scalding bite to her gently-round calves as well. The condemned
noblewoman's lithe body weaved and twisted as the leather thong seared her
tender flesh and she ground her teeth savagely to stifle her cries.
Rubin James paused now as he contemplated where he would direct the next
stroke of his Ladyship's punishment. The burly jailer knew from past
experience that the cart tail procession would last almost an hour,
so judicious application of the whip was important. He gauged that his
victim's total allotment of strokes would be between sixty and seventy, not
counting the twelve strokes she would receive between her legs at the
corners of the town square.
The man knew that the pernicious sting of the lash on the Lady Ashley's
tender love nook would destroy her remarkable courage and force her to
cry out in agony, breaking the stubborn silence she had maintained thus far.
However; even though he bore no malice towards the Earl of Brockhurst's
daughter, Rubin James's skill was indirectly tested by her reactions and he
resolved to make her cry out before she reached the town square. With that
thought in mind, he gauged his distance and struck.
The supple leather thong snaked out and wrapped around the condemned
noblewoman's bare back just below the shoulderblades; the tip of the
lash flicking around to bite into the panting curve of her right breast.
The naked beauty's shapely body went rigid for a moment, then her head lifted
and a choking shout of pain was torn from the Lady Ashley's trembling lips as
a livid weal sprang up on the milky-white flesh of her shuddering love gourd.
Without respite, Master James immediately sent the twelfth stroke
whistling into the quivering mounds of the young woman's bounding buttocks,
visibly lifting those fleshy hillocks with the force of the blow. The muscles
of the Lady Ashley's whipped bottom spasmed under the atrocious bite of the
lash. And as the searching thong burrowed into the yielding flesh of
her jutting right bottomglobe; a strangled cry of "Aaooowww!!!" escaped her
gaping mouth.
The murmured comments of the spectators grew louder as they sensed this
visible weakening of this arrogant lady of quality under the lash. Their
was little pity in their hearts as they delectated over the Lady Ashley's
martyrdom. They longed to watch her naked, glorious body writhe and
twist under the furious slashes of the whip and to hear her desperate cries for
mercy.
But those onlookers expecting the flogger to now rain blows down upon
the bound figure of his victim would be disappointed. For Rubin James,
satisfied with the effect of his previous successive strokes in breaking
the defiant sufferer's tight-lipped resolve, permitted the Lady Ashley a moment
of reprieve before resuming the capricious rhythm of her thrashing.
Sweat glistened on the blonde beauty's slender nudity as she trudged
dismally along, her body jerking convulsively each time the hissing
leather thong attacked her cringing flesh. The girl's executioner
skillfully varied the placement of the strokes as he plied the lash as
ordered, "from the neck to the heels". By the time the plodding
procession arrived at the northeast corner of the town square, the Lady
Ashley Hamilton had sustained a total of sixteen lashes and the criss-crossed
pattern of red lines left by the whip blazed brightly on her satiny white skin.
Now came the dreadful moment when the Earl of Brockhurst's daughter
was to debase herself as a common whore and expose her most private parts to the
profaning eyes of the crowd and the hissing fury of the jailer's whip. She
turned her tear-streaked face back over her shoulder and regarded her
impassive chastiser nervously.
The man gestured with his whip, and the Lady Ashley groaned plaintively
as she complied with the court's order. The bountifully-fleshed hemispheres
of the condemned noblewoman's magnificent, carmine-streaked
posterior shuddered eloquently as she bent down and reluctantly spread her legs,
lewdly presenting the fatted purse of her sex as well as the puckered ring
of her anus to the gloating townspeople.
The firm ripe melons of the Lady Ashley's opulent bosom hung pendant in this
ignominious pose and those who stood at the rear of the cart gazed avidly at the
pink invitation of her gaping loveslit. The prickling heat of a blush warmed
the lovely sufferer's troubled face, then spread down her neck to her
shoulders when she heard the whispers of the crowd as they crudely appraised her
naked charms. With bated breath, the courageous young martyr awaited the
resumption of her punishment as muscular tremors ran up and down her
distended thighs into the palpitating cheeks of her cleft, striped buttocks.
Master James keenly observed the ripe pulchritude of his twenty-two year
old victim's exposed femininity, blatantly displayed in one of the most
defenseless and degrading positions imaginable for her sex. He silently cast
the whip out along the ground and measured his aim carefully. Then with a deft
flick of his wrist, the skillful flogger sent the tapering thong slipping
between the Lady Ashley's parted bottom rounds to come to burning rest on her
intimate love nook.
A piercing scream was torn from the naked sufferer's gaping mouth as her
head lifted and her sweat-glossed body jerked as if an electric shock had
surged through it. Abandoning her pose, the Lady Ashley's torso straightened
and the spasming cheeks of her welted behind clenched the tapering
thong that had so mercilessly whistling between them. The young woman's
thighs threshed violently for a moment as if trying to disperse the furious
agony of the stroke. The defiant young martyr turned her contorted face back
over her shoulder and gave her chastiser an outraged look through her dilated,
tear-blurred eyes. Then with sweat beading her forehead and teeth chattering
with anguish, the Earl of Brockhurst's daughter bowed her trembling body and
prostrated herself again for the whip.
Twice more the supple lash snaked up between the sobbing penitent's
straddled thighs, perniciously attacking the tender regions of groin and
belly. Each time, the Lady Ashley's lush nudity arched and writhed in
protest, limbs threshing wildly before humbly resuming the ordained
position. After the third perfidious cut had stung the tender
love-pouch of the contrite young woman, the driver allowed her a few moments
to compose herself before he put the cart back into motion.
The Lady Ashley groaned plaintively as she leaned heavily against the
wooden cart-tail, her shuddering breasts heaving with gasping breaths. At a
gesture from the girl's grim executioner, the driver gathered the reins
and the creaking of the heavy wooden wheels signaled the resumption of the Lady
Ashley's martyrdom.
Weakened by the three agonizing lashes between her legs, the bound blonde
sufferer cried out musically as the next two strokes licked at the quivering
flesh of her squirming bare buttocks; etching angry red weals on that satiny
skin. The proud independent hillocks of the future mistress's beautiful
posterior shook jelly-like at each snapping impact of the whip, and her
choking screams delighted the vindictive townspeople.
Amidst the naked noblewoman's attentive audience, two uniformed
soldiers stood watching her punishment with grim smiles of satisfaction on
their faces. One of the men, Sergeant William Blackmore of the King's
Royal Army, had his right arm bound tightly to his side in a sling; the result
of a wound from Jack Lawrence's sword.
The other man, a private, bore a series of scratches on the side of his
cheek from the Lady Ashley's fingernails when she raked his face during the
apprehension of the two illicit lovers. Both lusty males were immensely
enjoying the public humiliation of such a high-spirited and beautiful prisoner.
And the noticeable bulges in the front of the soldiers' pants, as was
also evident in many of the men in the crowd, meant there would be much
arduous lovemaking in store for their wives when they retired to their
conjugal beds at day's end.
The continuation of the Lady Ashley Hamilton's prescribed
penance proceeded as Master James distributed the sweeping strokes of his whip
up and down the length of his victim's writhing naked body. Varying the
intervals between lashes to attenuate her fortitude, the grim execution plied
the tapering leather thong masterfully; choosing always a new place for its
burning kiss. And while the courageous blonde beauty managed to hold back
her cries for many of the strokes, she could not control the involuntary
lewd gyrations of her tethered body or her hoarse exclamations when a cut of the
whip perniciously attacked the more sensitive regions of breast, thigh, or
buttock
By the time the plodding procession came to a halt at the intersection of
River street and North avenue, the Lady Ashley's nude body was streaked with
runnels of perspiration and dust from the street. Her matted, sweat-darkened
hair was plastered in wet curls to her face and forehead as she reluctantly
bowed her trembling body and exposed her loins for the whip. Droplets of
sweat and tears dotted the cobblestones of the road and the prostrated
girl's pink-lipped vulval fig pouted back invitingly.
Three times the wicked leather thong darted up between the Earl of
Brockhurst's daughter's splayed thighs, sending her naked body into
continuous paroxysms of indescribable torment. Raucous screams of agony
answered each wet snapping impact of the whip and the Lady Ashley's
sumptuous body bounded and twisted like a gaffed fish. When the cart again
rolled into motion, the sobbing blonde sufferer followed with a hobbling,
straddle-legged gait in a desperate effort to ease the pain in the swollen
lips of her slit.
To vary the pattern of stripes on his victim's lush tapestry of
alabaster flesh, Rubin James now showed his dexterity by alternating his
strokes with both forehand and backhand slashes of the whip. Thus the
previously less-punished, left cheek of the Lady Ashley's condemned backside
received its share of abuse as the whistling tip of the lash plucked greedily
at that quaking mound of jellied flesh. Also the bobbing, cantaloupe-like
gourd of the young woman's left breast sustained several flicking cuts of the
jailer's whip as well from his backhanded strokes.
Over the finely-grained skin of the beautiful penitent's luscious body,
angry raised welts sprang up as the evil, hissing thong licked and snapped.
But it was evident that Master James's preferred target was the Earl's
daughter's plump jutting bare bottom which he returned to again and again.
Those wobbling globes of velvety-sheened flesh shook salaciously as the whip
swept across them, sometimes slipping towards more sensitive parts, drawing
strident howls of torment from the unfortunate, young noblewoman.
Yet even though her suffering was atrocious as evidenced by her cries of
agony and the lascivious writhing of her naked body, the Lady Ashley
Hamilton offered no pleas or supplications for mercy to her implacable
chastiser. And when she did lift her bowed head to brief gaze
through haggard, tear-blurred eyes at her mocking audience, the
courageous and defiant beauty's pain-lined face seemed to hold an
expression that was almost contempt.
The citizens of Covington gathered at the corner of River street and
North avenue, the next destination of the cart tail procession, craned
their necks as they saw the horse drawn cart approaching. They could see
the slender figure of the Lady Ashley trudging desolately along in her
prescribed servitude, her face hidden by the matted hair of her shapely,
bowed head. From a distance, the townspeople saw the flogger's arm reach out
and the girl's head rear as the lash landed with an explosion of pain on her
bare back. Droplets of sweat and tears flew in the air as the disheveled blonde
tresses of the naked noblewoman tossed wildly with her frenzied movements under
the stinging fury of the whip. As the cart neared the town square, Rubin
James once more regaled his hapless victim's churning, weaving buttocks with a
skillful, backhanded cut of the whip, forcing a strangled cry past the lovely
sufferer's clenched teeth as the whisking thong bit into her raw, smarting
flesh.
Those spectators who had decided to see the flogging through to the end,
now joined the ones already in position along the sides of the street. They
watched expectantly when the cart groaned to a halt and the naked, twenty-two
year-old lady in waiting turned her flushed face back over her shoulder
to gaze imploringly at her stern chastiser. Through eyes swollen and red-rimmed
from crying, the Lady Ashley saw Master James gesture with his whip. With
tears streaming down her cheeks, the anguished beauty bowed her trembling
body and slowly spread her legs.
The highly-appreciative audience stared agog as the sweat-slick
cheeks of the sobbing young woman's sumptuous, luridly-wealed buttocks parted,
and the pink-lipped seam of her vulva came into view. Framed with silken thatch
of light blonde hair, the Lady Ashley's gaping love-slit was
helplessly displayed between the twitching, welt-ridged gluteal mounds
of her lewdly-spread bottom. Abandoned in this obscene and degrading pose,
the contrite, openly-crying, culprit felt the shaming coolness of the air
on her most intimate flesh. Bizarre twitchings shook her splayed
posterior globes and agonizing suspense weighed heavily on the courageous
martyr's mind as she awaited the sting of the lash.
Several mothers in the crowd with children in hand covered their
offspring's eyes at the blatant exposure of the Lady Ashley's naked pelvic area.
But in the past, these same women had also pulled their children from the
street to safety when the arrogant and high-spirited young noblewoman had
recklessly galloped her horse or driven her carriage through the
village at breakneck speeds, heedless of the well-being of others.
They gladly watched now with smug satisfaction as the Earl of Brockhurst's
daughter received her just desserts.
A faint whir preceded the stroke, then the supple leather thong
darted up between the inverted "V" of the Lady Ashley's legs to land with an
audible snap on the bulging, fleece-lined mound of her sex. A piercing shriek
was torn from the girl's gaping mouth and her bent body jerked
convulsively in response to the pernicious cut of the whip.
The attentive audience was treated to some wild thigh-threshing by the
screaming penitent as she howled her protest to this heinous attack on the
most sensitive part of her body. The Lady Ashley's bare breasts and
buttocks bobbed and jiggled salaciously in her wild dance of pain and
her anguished face lifted to the heavens as if praying for strength.
Then with heart-rending moans and tears flowing helplessly down her
flushed face, the future mistress of Brockhurst manor slowly resumed her
position and arched out her inflamed loins for the next stroke.
Master James methodically sent two more venomous cuts darting up between
the lividly-streaked nether hemispheres of the lovely sufferer's bare bottom.
At each fiery kiss of the lash, the Lady Ashley uttered raucous cries of agony
and those spectators standing to the side of the anguished beauty could see the
tendons in her neck stand out against her sweating skin.
After the third fiendishly-stinging stroke had attacked the swollen lips
of her plump moist cunt, galvanizing her nude body into uncontrollable
spasms of pain; the openly-crying young mistress clung desperately the rough
tailgate of the cart in a desperate effort to rally her waning strength. An
eternity of despondent shame and degradation assailed the sobbing noblewoman's
proud spirit as her body, unable to do her bidding as her will weakened under
the onslaught of pain and suffering, twisted and jerked like a puppet to
the erratic cadence of the flogger's whip.
The Lady Ashley felt the cart stir as the driver gathered the
reins, signaling the resumption of her grim Calvary. A sharp flick of the
jailer's whip stung the firm, rounded curves of the naked prisoner's
trembling calves sending her hobbling forward to her inexorable fate.
The final quarter of the Lady Ashley's hour of martyrdom was a walk she
would never forget. Each step was compulsion as she stumbled drunkenly along
behind the slow moving cart, her bound wrists mocking her tears and
lamentations. The skillful executioner's whip scored her protesting flesh with
devilish cunning, the spacing of the blows deliberately irregular,
catching her always unprepared. To heave or twist too much only invited a slash
on a part of her pain-racked body not otherwise exposed. The Lady Ashley was
lost in a world of fiery flame that found her flesh no matter what
contortion she could make.
The vindictive townspeople gleefully watched the helpless
writhings of the lovely sufferer's nude body as the whistling lash seared the
round, full globes of her exuberantly-contoured, red-streaked bottom or
wrapped around the slim hollow of her waist or the lovely columns of her
tapering thighs. Curiously, the Lady Ashley's hoarse cries because less
articulate, though breathier as if she had reached a new level of pain.
Under each spastic convulsion of her voluptuous nudity, the condemned beauty's
head jerked back, her face a mask of agony, her eyes huge and filled with tears.
By the time the plodding procession turned onto Stevens Avenue and headed
towards the final stop of the Lady Ashley Hamilton's seemingly endless march
of bitter degradation, only a few pale patches of unmarked flesh could
be seen amidst the criss-crossed swellings that marred the creamy
smoothness of the shuddering oval cheeks of her soundly thrashed, bare
behind. The relentless onslaught of the whip and the damning slowness of the
horse's gait increased her anguish of anticipation for the strokes that
imparted their hellish fury to her exhausted sweat-soaked body.
The crowd of spectators assembled at the northwest corner of the town
square saw a much different Lady Ashley Hamilton than those who had been present
at the beginning of the proud beauty's punishment. The young
noblewoman's graceful carriage and arrogant sway of her hips had been
replaced with a head-bowed, faltering, spraddle-legged, hobble as she
blindly stumbled along behind the cart. The bright-eyed beauty's alabaster
complexion was red-flushed and streaked with tears and perspiration and her eyes
puffy and haggard from crying. The silky tresses of the Lady Ashley's
beautifully coiffured blonde hair straggled wetly and was plastered to her
face and neck in wet curls. When the cart inexorably ground to a halt,
the openly-crying, half-fainting, future mistress of Brockhurt manor
mechanically bowed her naked, welted body and weakly spread her shaking legs.
The veined and swollen gourd of the Lady Ashley's thick-lipped seam pouted
back vulnerably between the shuddering, corrugated cheeks of her beaten
buttocks. Muscular ripplings ran up and down the condemned beauty's
lewdly distended thighs and her welt-ridged gluteal mounds shook with
enervating torment from the cumulative heat of the whipping. Rivulets of
sweat streamed down the blonde beauty's bowed body, dripping from her
udder-like breasts which dangled and swayed with her movements. In the
swirling mist of pain which engulfed her, the Lady Ashley was past caring that
she was shamelessly exposing her most intimate flesh to the gloating
spectators. Instead, she closed her eyes as if in silent prayer and stoically
awaited the stroke of the lash that would signal the final stage of her Spartan
punishment.
With grim precision, Rubin James accurately sent the three final cuts of
his whip snaking up between the quaking mounds of his victim's spasming
buttocks. Under each murderous slash of the whip, the Lady Ashley's
nude body jerked convulsively as the hissing tip of the lash licked at the
jellying cleft of her slit. So weakened was she from her hour-long ordeal,
the suffering noblewoman had not the strength to leave her prostrated pose
as her choking cries rang out in the uneasy silence of the town square. Even
the most vindictive of the townspeople winced sympathetically at the wet snap
of the whip and the Lady Ashley's raucous screams, for the final three
strokes of the naked penitent's sentence seemed to burn her to the very soul.
After the final lash had fallen and the flogger had returned his
coiled whip to his belt, the whimpering, young martyr slowly straightened her
pain-racked body. Although her red-striped posterior globes were still
twitching spasmodically and furious pangs of torment coursed through her
throbbing cunt, the Lady Ashley forced her legs together and squared her slim
shoulders. Then with a tremendous effort of will and a defiant toss of her
disheveled blonde hair, the proud young noblewoman followed the
slow-moving cart without a stumble as it returned to Cranwell prison.
The citizens of Covington looked on in amazement at this erotic display of
fortitude. It was evident by the grimaces on her lovely face that the least
movement revived the pain of the whipping as the Lady Ashley's
piteously-wealed buttocks bounced and quivered at each step. The tracery of
stripes upon her glistening nudity was a final sensual treat as she slowly
departed from view.