Rosalie's Ordeal

Story from Phoenix 50.

Rosalie's Ordeal

Of course it is instinct. This meaningful, sometimes uneasy feeling, telling you what you should do and, most likely, what you should not do at all! That's what is called instinct.

Rosalie knew that, and although, or maybe because, she knew it very well, that was not precisely the thing her thoughts were about. At least not at this moment. For if you are to deal with a member of 'The Society', i.e. 'get in touch', you'd better leave your instinct aside.

That she, a smart girl in her nineteenth year, knew for sure, because that is the truth, and she had already learned to accept it.

Being of right instinct can be considered a bad habit. At least by THEM! Being a rebel can lead to serious trouble!

If you like to go out singing in the rain, leave your umbrella at home. But if you are into spanking a girl, don't forget to fetch the cane.

And that's it. No discussion at all, for the members of 'The Society' are at certain times not too keen on discussions. But they are truly into 'sports and games'. At least that it what they refer to, when they talk about their habits and interests.

It had all started last night. Rosalie was in bed already, when the telephone rang. Although they hadn't called her for almost two months, which had given her enough time to hope they had already forgotten about her, Rosalie suddenly knew it was them. Instinct – you remember?

There was a man on the 'phone, of course, and although he knew her name, she was quite sure from the start that she had never heard that voice before. Rosalie wasn't really surprised, she was just a bit dejected that they obviously had not forgotten her at all, but she did her best not to let it show.

They had one of those little talks, which Rosalie knew, no matter how they start, are bound to lead to one thing...

His voice sounded pleasant, and maybe he really is, Rosalie thought to herself, a friendly kind of man, being pleasant to his friends, his children, or even his wife. For ordering a girl of 'The Society' for adult entertainment does not necessarily mean having been establishing corporal punishment at home. However, that was what his call was all about.

"So I'll pick you up at 5 p.m. at your office. You know how to dress properly?"

Though his voice was calm, apparently offering a question, Rosalie knew that this was no question at all. It was a precise order, and Rosalie knew how to follow it.

She answered a docile, "Yes, Sir".

"Now, that's a good girl".

The voice on the line seemed even more friendly. "See you tomorrow. Good night, and have a nice sleep!"

Mocking words, even being spoken as calmly as they had been. How could Rosalie sleep well at the prospect of a forthcoming spanking, to suppose the least. The aspect of having to spend the following day at the office wearing some kind of the most revealing underwear didn't seem to be of any comfort either.

She wouldn't even have the opportunity to have a shower after work as she did usually. Rosalie shivered at the thought that tomorrow might be a very stressful day, having her being bathed in sweat by noon, which seems to be quite human but can easily lead to very humiliating scenes, as she knew from bitter experience.

Once Rosalie had been due for a punishment lesson after a very busy day at the office. Of course, the man, another member of 'The Society' she had been sent to, knew it very well, for he had spoken to her boss on the 'phone to assure her being striving hard, and therefore sweating, the whole day long.

After she had taken off all of her clothes in his apartment, with even more members of 'The Society' being present, he, to her increased shame, took his time inspecting every inch of her naked body. He even took the liberty of smelling her armpits, as Rosalie was forced to grip her hands behind her neck, presenting her youthful breasts to the delighted audience.

To her utmost degradation, he showed a disgusted look on his face, as he turned to the others, gravely announcing that she "stunk". She had then been ordered to take a bath and clean her body thoroughly, and, of course, she had to face an 'extra treatment' for the impertinence of showing up for a punishment session without being properly prepared. As if she had a choice!

So, it is no wonder that she almost could not get a wink of sleep all night. Although she really had a lot of work to do the following day, she had enough time to think of the punishment yet to come. At least the daring outfit beneath her outer garments reminded her of the forthcoming events, and maybe even some of her colleagues had their own thoughts about her revealing attire that day.

"Are you properly dressed?" he inquired, instead of a usual greeting, as she climbed into his Porsche.

Rosalie suddenly became aware of having a frog in her throat. She couldn't even look at the man addressing her. She kept her eyes straight ahead, staring through the windscreen at the traffic lights passing by, as he drove off down the street.

"So, what?"

He did not seem to be impatient at the moment, for his words sounded interested instead of bored, but Rosalie did not want to find out how long it would take for him to start showing his impatience. She nodded a "yes".

"Alright, that's a good girl! I am sure you don't mind showing me".

Of course she did. But what would be the use of refusing, or showing even the slightest sign of reserve? She was facing some smacks on her poor little bottom already. So, why waken the probably sleeping lion and turn the inevitable events of the evening into a real punishment session on purpose?

Rosalie knew better than that. With blushing cheeks she dutifully lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal the stretched tops of her seamed stockings – which she was told always to wear while being on duty for 'The Society' (at least, unless she had been instructed otherwise).

"Higher!"

The man behind the wheel gave his order without even bothering to look at her. He knew from her previous behaviour that she would need some kind of encouragement from time to time.

Receiving a command is following following it. These are the rules Rosalie knows for sure. So, without further hesitation, but blushing even more, she raised the hem higher and higher, until she offered the pretty view of some naked skin above the stocking tops, and a few curls of fluffy hair, hardly covering what she would like to have hidden this moment. But, being on duty, she is not allowed the modesty of drawers at all.

The man took a short glance, and a smile appeared on his face.

"So, a natural blonde, aren't you?" he said to the nineteen year old girl sitting beside him, naked from the waist down.

She almost fainted at the thought that someone might see her that way, as he steered his Porsche through the heavy traffic during rush hour, heading for his house in the suburbs.

Once inside his house, Rosalie didn't have time to look at the exclusive furniture that proved him to be a man of taste. Rather, he showed himself as a man of action, as he took her straight into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, and made Rosalie stand before him, hands on her head, well developed boobs thrust out at him. Ignoring her timid protest, he slid down the zipper of her tight skirt and peeled it off, so that only her seamed stockings and her high-heeled shoes remained below her waist.

He paused for a moment to savour the delectable view before his eyes. Rosalie didn't dare to utter a sound. She stood still, breathing heavily, and he reached out to her delicious young body.

"Are you ready for some nice kind of game?"

What a question to ask a nineteen year old girl, perfectly aware of what was in store for her! What could she do but nod a timid "yes". They both knew that she didn't want to get if at all, but since she had to, it made more sense to get over this task as quickly as possible – if only from her point of view.

"I would not have blamed you for your innocence, but your eagerness shows me that you're well acquainted with this game!"

Although his voice pretended, he wasn't suggesting any confidence at all. In fact, he would ignore any insolence on her behalf, so Rosalie remained silent, waiting for her punishment to come. And it commenced for sure!

The man she hardly knew, all of a sudden, pulled her over his knee. He arranged her position so her rear would receive maximum impact, and then raised his hand over her bottom for the first time. Although he held her firmly with one arm, she could wriggle free with ease, if she wanted. However, even is she wanted to – and in fact she did – she wouldn't have cared at all.

So, she lay still over his knees, tensed and waiting, her eyes focusing on the carpet. Rosalie was ready, still fully dressed above her waist, but naked below, except for her stockings and shoes.

"Time to start our little session in earnest!" he announced to the nineteen year old girl lying over his knee, trembling in anticipation.

He brought his hand down, not too hard for the start, but letting her feel it. It smacked her bottom cheeks with a loud noise, but she made no sound at all. Rosalie was desperately trying to please him with her subservient behaviour during the forthcoming punishment, knowing rebellion wouldn't do her any good, and only endurance and self control would save her ass, if anything did.

He smiled knowingly. He was ready to play the game her way. If she really wanted this event to turn into a memorable competition, he was happy to oblige a beautiful young girl.

So, he got his right hand into motion, and delivered blow after blow, while Rosalie tried her best, only to wriggle a little, increasing his pleasure as well as the force of his blows.

He relished the contact of his hand with her bare reddening flesh. He could feel her glowing bottom cringe each time his hand hit it.

With his shower of spanks, she had slipped her legs slightly apart, so every now and then he could catch a delectable glimpse of the scanty tuft of blonde hair normally hidden between her thighs.

Hot to his touch, her curvy bottom was gleaming a deep pink now – so was his hand – and she now gasped with every blow. But he didn't care, just focusing on the feel of Rosalie's firm derriere against his spanking hand.

He couldn't help admiring her endurance. She did only struggle a little, mostly writhing back and forth over his lap, as her young, well-trained bottom cheeks reddened.

With each slapping spank she let out a gasp, but never a plea for mercy. So, he kept on spanking her bobbing bottom with considerable force. However, the next smack walloping the high round curve of her bottom made her squeal with its impact.

That did it!

Even the man from 'The Society' thought that Rosalie had suffered enough. Then, abruptly, she was gone. Away from his relentless hand, off his lap, and gasping on her knees. That was the time she was really due for pleasure. His pleasure, of course!