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She bent me over without ceremony, and without warning, and began to spank me with the flat of the long, heavy wooden spoon. I had been punished with the birch rod and with my master’s hand—each of them so many times I had lost count by now. I had supposed that I had felt as much pain as it was possible for my ass to feel without serious injury befalling me. I had been completely wrong, it turned out.

CHAPTER 15

Heather

Something about the leverage from the length of the spoon and the relatively small size of the surface that Anya whipped into my poor bottom-cheeks made even the first stroke from that fucking spoon feel like the worst punishment I had ever gotten. The already sore state of my ass from the birching at Devushkin’s palace the night before undoubtedly had a part to play. I didn’t feel certain, though, that the wooden spoon wouldn’t have represented the most painful experience of my life to date even if my butt had been pristine.

I tried to think these stupid, pseudo-objective, evaluating thoughts, rather than letting my mind go to what I knew deep down had to be the true source of how agonizing this horrible ‘lesson’ felt. That lasted about two seconds, though. I could feel their eyes on me: all the women in that kitchen. Their gazes, from all sides, at my naked body—my weeping, sobbing face, my little breasts, my bottom with its tracery of red and purple from what Ivan’s associates had given me the night before—bore into me with an emotional pain that seemed nearly as bad as what the terrible spoon could do.

Even that didn’t really compare with having to listen to, and worse to understand, the horrid, humiliating things Anya said as she paddled me with her long, heavy spoon, alternating her attention between my right and left cheeks and my right and left thighs in rapid succession.

She thought I couldn’t understand, of course, so though she addressed the degradation to me, Anya of course intended it for the ears of the cooks and the maids. I could already sense—it seemed, to me anyway—the way they all judged me as their master’s favorite fuck toy. The girl he sent to serve his friends and to be whipped by them, not so much because as a nearly omnipotent warlord he could do such atrocious things as because I must be the kind of girl who enjoyed that shameful treatment. The head cook’s horrible words, though, seemed to make it infinitely worse, and that in turn made the agony of this punishment so unbearable that I had begun to scream and to struggle under her impossibly strong restraining left arm by the third stroke of the spoon.

“Look at the little cunt, girls,” Anya said, her words delivered in a monotone equally full of fury and of scorn, loud enough to carry easily over both the sharp, ringing smacks from the spoon and my wails of agony and shame. “Look how the master makes her keep it bare and smooth for him, to help her learn submission, and yet she can’t seem to obey the simplest commands, can she? Do you see how they whipped her last night, when she went out for fucking by the master’s friends, and still she remains a shameless whore who doesn’t see the slightest reason to learn our language so that she could help out in her master’s house.”

As the terrible beating continued and the excruciating fire blazed higher and higher with every horrible spank from the tormenting spoon, I found myself reaching out to hold the opposite side of the sink, where a little metal lip met the tile of the wall—to pull on it with my scrabbling fingertips, as if I were trying to climb up on top of it, and I could somehow get away like that. I could hear one of the maids weeping nearby—surely the one who had blushed as she watched me go by on the way to this awful lesson in abject obedience.

“Do you see the little flower there, when I spank her bottom and she can’t help showing us everything like the disgusting slut she is? The master likes that hole best—all powerful men do, but good girls know how to say no, don’t they? This cunt can’t deny her master her anus, though—not because she belongs to him like a two-ruble whore but because she likes it in her little rear, good and hard. He doesn’t need to use his silver wand to have her just the way he chooses, does he? You can see that just from a glance between these little cheeks, can’t you? They’ve made her good and loose for their fucking, and she likes it that way. I’ve never spanked a bottom that needs a lesson in modesty as much as the master’s little cunt’s backside needs one.”

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