Slavegirl of the Dragon Age - Page 26-27

Characters and scenery belong to EA/Bioware. Thanks to 'NewByPower' for mod 'Natural Bodies 1.00'.

Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 4

Bernadette, who was one of the four singers spanked by Miss Geist on the first day, now had to take her turn as the 'star' of the great teacher's demonstration. She was to play Madame Butterfly, while her friend Chloe played the mezzo part of her servant Suzuki.

"I take it" said Miss Geist icily, "that you will cease using that absurd hair dye before applying for this or any other part on the operatic stage?"

"Yes, Miss Geist" said Bernadette dutifully but grumpily. She thought her hair was fine, and her singing was fine, and everything else about herself was fine. Then Elsa began the accompaniment and Bernadette launched confidently into the aria "One Fine Day". But Miss Geist soon stopped her.

"You are singing as though this were simply a happy, optimistic song. Only in the shallowest sense is this so. Ninety percent of the audience knows Butterfly will be betrayed by the lover she longs for, and commit suicide. Your performance must convey her vulnerability and isolation."

Bernadette tried again, but was soon stopped in her tracks a second time. "Your overconfidence is as garish as your hair" said Miss Geist. "I can think of only one way for you to convey Butterfly's vulnerability. Remove your clothes. Yes, all of them."

No student yet had talked back to Miss Geist or refused her instructions. Bernadette was on the verge of it, but the teacher's piercing gaze changed her mind. She began to strip, slowly at first. But when Miss Geist snapped "Hurry!" she practically flung off her bra and panties into the wings.

Now naked, she began the aria a third time. With the eyes of all the class on her, and her shocked friend Chloe right next to her, she had no trouble feeling vulnerable. A much more shy and soft version of the song emerged from her.

When she got to the words "I, without answering, hold myself quietly concealed a bit to tease him", there was some grinning in the audience. Bernadette felt even more exposed and helpless, and the emotion in her voice increased.

At the end - "Banish your idle fears, For he will return, I know he will return" - she broke down completely so the last two notes were broken by sobbing.

"Much better" said Miss Geist, "but never allow emotion to prevent a proper performance of the music." She gave Bernadette three quick smacks on her bare bottom. The stinging, on top of her embarrassed nudity, made her cry all the more.



The class felt sorry for the weeping girl, and thought Miss Geist was going too far. But then the stern teacher put an arm around Bernadette and began whispering to her. Nobody else could hear what she said, but the student recovered her composure quickly. Suddenly, everyone's sympathy was turned to jealousy of the private attention and inspiration Bernadette was getting. "Try it one more time. You may dress if you wish" said Miss Geist.

"No" declared Bernadette, and still nude she sang an even better version, emotional but still musical, that made everyone present feel enormous sympathy with the betrayed Butterfly.

 ***

As the months went by, Miss Geist's unusual form of discipline created a bond among the classmates, which was clearly going to make them perform well as a group when they put on an opera as their final lesson. They came to accept their spankings as normal. One barrier was broken when a tenor, after singing Verdi's "Otello", admitted he had not worked on it hard enough beforehand, knowing what this would get him. He was the first student to be spanked in the over-the-knee position by Miss Geist, and bare. "Embarrassing but deserved" is what he and the class thought.



There was a subtle difference between the way the guys and the girls talked about the spankings they were getting. For the guys it was much more about Miss Geist herself. The women would say "I got a spanking for that" - the men would say "Miss Geist spanked me yesterday".

The girl who was most vocal in saying how good and right the spankings were, was Heidi. She was a bigger girl with a clear vocation for Wagnerian opera. She was always saying "We need a whacked behind to make us do our best!" When it was her turn to demonstrate, her resolve was put to the test.

Miss Geist had made the obvious selection, and chosen Heidi to play Brunhilde in "The Valkyrie". Jacques, a well-toned bass-baritone who went to the gym every day, was to play her father Wotan, king of the gods. It was the final scene, where Wotan condemns his favorite daughter for disobedience.

"You understood me fully" boomed Jacques. "I warned you of my rage if you failed. But no, you thought 'Wotan is weak'. A treacherous crime must be punished!"

Miss Geist gave her critique: "Your tone is strong, but I don't see your anger at being disobeyed. I don't see the need to punish." She went to the cupboard in the wings, and brought back an instrument Elsa the accompanist knew well - the cane. "Wotan always carries a staff" said the teacher, "take this one".

Then she spoke to Heidi. "This is not your fault, so I will not make you do this if you don't want to. Will you allow Wotan to punish you?"

Heidi was scared of the sight of that cane, but after all she had been saying to her classmates, she knew she had to agree. She nodded.

Jacques knew this had to be serious to appease Miss Geist. He ordered Heidi to remove everything below her waist. Then when he began again to sing the scene, he pushed her over to the lectern. At a particularly strong note, he lashed the cane across her ample bare bottom.



Heidi couldn't believe how much it stung, but she braced herself to sing her own part. As she protested that she had done what Wotan really wanted (but not what he had commanded) there was an extra desperation in her soprano voice as Jacques  continued to cane her hard. She was begging to be forgiven, as earnestly as any Brunhilde ever had in the history of the opera.

Heidi was incredibly relieved when they reached the part where Wotan admits that what she is saying is true. Jacques stopped the caning and embraced her as he sang his sorrow at being forced to imprison her.

"Farewell my valiant, glorious child! Though I abandon you, whom I love so, the laughing delight of my eye, a bridal fire shall blaze to protect you." Jacques and Heidi clung to each other ferociously as the music climaxed. It was a moving performance, but the amazing thing was that 'Brunhilde' was bare from the waist down, with several stripes across her behind!

 ***

Clips with the music, if you're interested:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aAuxoWjpVg
and
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTOh99f95rQ

Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 2

At the end of the first session, Miss Geist gave out a schedule, with details of the operatic scenes on which she would teach each lesson. It also had the names of those who would have to perform it, so they had time to learn the words and music. When they joined an opera company they would be contractually obliged to know the whole opera before the first staging rehearsal, so learning these short scenes was no problem.

And nobody was likely to be lazy about it, after what happened in the first lesson. Four singers had been given an embarrassing spanking on their underwear, just for being unimaginative, so nobody wanted to find out what Miss Geist would do to them for not being prepared for her lessons.

First on the list was a scene from Richard Strauss' "Salome". Rachel (soprano) had been chosen to play the title role, while Gerry (bass) was to play John the Baptist. Both of them arrived well prepared.

"This opera" said Miss Geist, "based on Oscar Wilde's biblical play, was banned for years in many countries, because it dared to depict a teenage girl as having a dangerous sexuality. Dangerous because it was mixed with power, enough to cost a man his head."

"Rachel, remember when this severe prophet emerges from his cell that he is a wild man of the desert. You find him sexy in a scary way, like the girls in teenage vampire stories. The difference is that Salome is rejected by this man, who has always practiced asceticism and self-denial. And she is used to getting her own way in everything. She is a spoiled brat."

"From your point of view, Gerald, there is no room in your mind for sexual dalliance, even when offered by an attractive young princess. Indeed there is no room for anything but the calling of your religion. With those things in mind, you may start."

Elsa the accompanist played the solid chords that mark the entry of John the Baptist from his dungeon. Gerry made a show of crawling along the stage then rising and blinking in the light. He began singing his condemnations of Herod and Herodias.

Rachel watched him with eyes wide. She took Miss Geist's hint and imagined she was someone like Bella, looking at a handsome vampire for the first time.

Then came the part where Salome dares to try seducing the stern desert prophet. She sang "I am in love with your body, Jokanaan. Your body is as white as the lilies of a field never mown. Your body is as white as the snow on the mountains of Judea. Let me touch your body."

Gerry's deep bass thundered in reply: "Back, daughter of Babylon! Evil came into the world by woman. I will not listen to you."

Rachel, kneeling, pounded her fist on the stage and kicked her feet in a teenage temper tantrum, singing "Your body is hideous, like the body of a leper."

The rest of the class laughed at this action. Miss Geist held up her hand and the music paused. Calmly, she said "Silence now. That was a good move and it is right that the audience should laugh. But for now, we have work to do."
Rachel resumed Salome's attempted seduction, reaching out and touching Gerry's head. "It's your hair that I love, Jokanaan", she sang. "The long black nights, when the moon hides her face and the stars are afraid, are not as black as your hair."

Gerry twisted his body away from her: "Back, daughter of Sodom, don't touch me."

Sitting down hard and pounding the stage with her fists again, 'Salome' sang with as much petulant conviction as she could muster: "Your hair is horrible. It is thick with dirt and dust. I don't like your hair."

Again the audience was grinning, but obediently stifled their laughter. Gerry was equally amused at Rachel's performance and had to concentrate on his proper breathing to avoid laughing.

Rachel went on, clinging even closer to Gerry: "It's your mouth that I desire. Your mouth is like a band of scarlet on a tower of ivory. Let me kiss your mouth, Jokanaan."

Gerry thought he ought to keep his acting on as high a level as Rachel's. So he pushed her hard, with a fierce widening of his eyes: "Curses on you, daughter of an incestuous mother!".

And that was where it all fell apart. Rachel fell down, and this, combined with seeing Gerry's flashing eyes, made her helpless with laughter. Gerry too couldn't hold it in any longer and began laughing out loud.



Some chuckling began in the rest of the class, but it quickly stopped. Down in the stalls, they could see the expression on Miss Geist's face, which at first the two giggling singers could not. It was a mask of fury.

No longer calm, she raged at them - "So you ignore my request for professional focus, and waste my time. Leave the stage!"

Worried but still laughing a little, Rachel and Gerry stepped down. They began to return to their seats in the auditorium, thinking they had been dismissed from the demonstration.

Miss Geist, who had followed them down the steps, shouted "Where do you think you are going? Bend over the edge of the stage with your pants lowered!"

Their hearts sank a little. It was clear they were going to suffer the same punishment as last lesson's quartet. They slid their jeans down to their ankles and leaned on the edge of the stage. But worse was to come.

Miss Geist reached for Rachel's panties and pulled them suddenly down to mid-thigh. "No!" shouted Rachel, but she didn't dare actually resist Miss Geist's punishment. She certainly wasn't laughing any more.

A glance sideways told Gerry what was happening. Surely that wasn't about to happen to him too! But then he felt Miss Geist's long fingernails at his hips as she grasped the waistband of his briefs. Then there was a swift downward pull, and he felt the cool air of the theatre, and implicitly the eyes of all his classmates, on his bared behind.



Miss Geist didn't move back to Rachel but immediately began smacking Gerry's bare bottom as hard as she could. It stung like blazes. Gerry kept looking straight ahead so the class couldn't see his face, deep red with humiliation and the effort to stay silent however much it hurt.

But there was nothing he could do. Everyone knew that walking out of this class would mean missing the opportunity of learning from the world's best teacher; and that whether they had her course on their CV could mean the difference between an appointment to a top opera house and none.

So he gritted his teeth and gasped now and then, until Miss Geist was satisfied and her strong left arm with its billowing sleeve stopped swinging.

Rachel by now was absolutely terrified. Her eyes welled up with tears even before Miss Geist started on her. The first smack on her bare bottom was more painful than she expected. It was such a childish punishment that surely, she had hoped, it wouldn't hurt a grown young woman that much. But she soon found that, at least with Miss Geist dishing it out, this just wasn't true.



She yelled over and over again, and squirmed about so much that her panties slipped down to her calves. Perhaps it was because she had started laughing first, or maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed she was getting a longer spanking than Gerry. "Please" she begged, "I'm sorry!".

The stinging smacks finally stopped. "Replace your clothing and return to the stage" said Miss Geist. "The lesson is not over."

As the couple mounted the steps, she added "The next people to fool about laughing will be on stage facing the class when I take their underwear down". The threat of such supreme embarrassment registered completely with the terrorised class.

Despite their still-burning posteriors, Gerry and Rachel tried to forget what had just happened and concentrate on their performance. Miss Geist began directing them on many ways to improve, both vocally and dramatically, and soon their minds were entirely on these technical and artistic matters.

Afterwards, none of the other singers teased the unfortunate pair. They were all aware that it could easily have been them. The girls told Rachel how good she had been in the part, and gave her the occasional sympathetic hug.

The other men said things to Gerry like:
"That was bad luck, being first on the schedule."
"You couldn't know what would happen."
"Come and have a beer, man, to steady your nerves."
"You've got a right to get completely Boris Yeltsin. The first one's on me!"
Of course, the unspoken subtext of all this was "seeing your bare butt means nothing to us straight macho guys".

As they were leaving, Rachel and Gerry caught each other's eye, and they exchanged a sheepish smile of mutual sympathy. Miss Geist saw this and whispered to Elsa, who was packing up, "One thing's for sure. If ever they are cast to play opposite each other during their careers, they'll have no trouble feeling a bond between them".

Elsa nodded, which was all she ever did when the great Mistress of Music spoke.

--------

There are several versions on youtube of the scene they're rehearsing above, but this one has the most vampire-like Jokanaan:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_sFH3q3Q50
The production is from Nashville, but don't expect any country & western singing! :)

Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 1

[And now for something completely different... It's a long time since I wrote full stories with the art as secondary, which is how I first started, but the pictures took over. This story of a supremely dominant female begins very mildly for reasons of believability. But it will get hotter.]

MISS GEIST'S MASTERCLASS, Chapter 1.

FOR a young singer graduating from a Conservatorium of Music, only one postgraduate placing was a guarantee of employment by one of the world's great opera houses, and that was the masterclass of Dr Rannveig Geist. For every place in her elite group there were fifty applicants, and she accepted only the best.

Miss Geist's age was only 29 and she had not been an opera singer herself. But she was a musical genius comparable only to Mozart, and had written her Ph.D thesis on the Grotowski school of acting. She could teach singers musical and dramatic skills they could not get anywhere else.

A new group of conservatorium grads, ages ranging from 17 to 24, were chatting as they waited for Miss Geist to arrive. They were full of anticipation and the joy of just being there. They knew that if they could finish the course, great careers awaited them.

When the famous teacher arrived, they all recognized her long auburn hair and intense dark eyes from photographs. But they were unprepared for her imposing height, and the sheer presence invoked by her long-legged determined stride towards the front of the theatre. Her slim maxi-length dress was black, which was nothing unusual. Black was a traditional rehearsal colour, and over half the young men and women in the hall were in black track suits or black slacks and shirt. But none of the girls was wearing anything like the cut of Miss Geist's gown, with its long draping sleeves and puffed shoulders.

Following behind her was a short blonde woman, approaching 40. She followed like a puppy, scurrying to keep up, then sat at the accompanist's piano, in a corner below the stage. Miss Geist had no need to call for silence. Awe had killed any ongoing conversation as soon as she walked in.

"I'll save the orientation speech till later" Miss Geist said in her slight German-Scandanavian accent. "I want to get you singing as a group right away. You have all been given a set of musical scores. Locate your volume of Mozart ensembles and turn to the Recordare from the Requiem." Nodding towards the piano, she added "Elsa will lead you in."

The accompanist began playing the piano reduction of the orchestral score. But Miss Geist held up a hand and the music stopped. Pointing at a young man, she spoke sharply. "You in the Tenor section. Why are you looking at your neighbour's score? You cannot sing properly that way. Did your books not arrive?"

"I seem to have left that one behind, Ms Geist" he said nervously.

"My name is MISS Geist" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "And what is YOUR name?"

"Thomas Havel, Miss Geist".

"Come forward, Mr Havel". She opened a cupboard in the wings and took out a copy of the book in question, as Thomas tremulously stepped up to the stage. "I have a copy you may borrow. But it will cost you. Face the class and show me how you bow at the conclusion of a performance."



Thomas turned around and bowed deeply. Miss Geist swung the book and whacked him hard on the behind with it. The class's reaction was to laugh, in surprise but also in relief from the tension of an awkward moment so early in the first lesson. Thomas coloured a little but grinned broadly. He accepted the book with thanks and returned to his seat. Nobody guessed what a salient pointer to the future this little incident was.

The music Miss Geist had told them to sing was really for just four principal singers. But they sang it as a chorus, each section choosing the line that suited their vocal range. At the end, their eminent teacher posed a rhetorical question: "Why does that piece NOT work with more than four voices? To demonstrate, I will have..." - she consulted a list and called the name of one soprano, mezzo, tenor and bass. The chosen students began to come forward. "Place yourselves as you think best, and signal Elsa when you are ready to start".

At the front of the stage, the four students stood in a line facing the class, concert style, and sang the quartet as best they could. All were competent singers and music readers. The result was technically accurate, but dull.

"Why on earth did you stand like that?" she demanded of the quartet. "Because the Requiem is not an opera? But you are training as opera singers. You should learn immediately why opera is superior to all other forms of music. Arrange yourselves as a cross, all of you facing inwards so that you are singing towards each other. And all of you LISTEN to what the others are doing. Now start again."

They repeated the work, which was like a relay, one voice taking over from another, then combining in pairs, then all together. Maintaining eye contact and concentrating on the others' voices as much as their own, they produced an interpretation full of nuance and feeling. The class broke into applause at the end. Everyone realised why they were in this masterclass. With one simple instruction, Miss Geist had improved the performance out of sight. Their awe of her was doubled.

This state of amazement goes a long way towards explaining why there was no outrage or protest at what happened next. Miss Geist commanded the four students to go back to the linear arrangement, facing the class, that they had initially chosen. "You had no idea how to give a good performance. You have come in here with a head full of cotton wool. But you will leave thinking like world-class opera singers. All four of you, pull down your slacks or your jeans!"

Under the force of Miss Geist's personality, and in a trance at just having sung better than they ever had in their lives, the quartet obeyed. The two men unbuckled their pants and let them fall, while one pair of female slacks and one pair of wide-hipped jeans were taken down.



Standing to the left was the mezzo-soprano who had sung the alto part. Miss Geist took up position behind and beside her, then spanked the seat of her white panties, hard. One, two, three, four, five, six smacks with her slender hand. The mezzo gasped in surprise at the first three with wide eyes, and went "Oww! Aaah! Ouch!" at the last three.

The tenor and bass were next in line. Their underpants were similarly spanked, making them frown in confusion, then grit their teeth as it began to hurt. Miss Geist's trumpet sleeve swung vigorously, and both guys were in no doubt she had a strong left arm!

The young soprano at the end had the most time to think, and to absorb what was going on. As Miss Geist stepped towards her she felt butterflies of fear in her stomach. She was wearing a long shirt, and the tall Mistress of Music tucked it up out of the way to smack the back of her pale blue panties. From the first spank, she gave a petulant "Owww!" in protest at the sting, a sound which rose in pitch as each smack landed. At the end of the six, her lower lip trembled as she rubbed her bottom.

 

"Back to your seats!" came the command. Four singers hastily pulled up their pants and ran for their chairs, doing up belt buckles only when they had sat down. Throughout the whole incident, Elsa had watched from the piano without expression. Clearly this little performance was commonplace to her.

"Listen closely" said Miss Geist firmly. "Opera is a dramatic profession. You must be able to play convincingly a buffoon like Leporello, or a slavegirl like Aida. Men, you may be lashed on stage like Mim in 'The Rhinegold'. Women, you may be tortured like Liu in 'Turandot', or brutally coerced and seduced like Tosca. The drama depends on the degradation of these characters. If you think of yourself as the dignified opera singer with chin held high and puffed-up chest, your performances will be pompous and ridiculous. While correcting your singing and acting techniques, I will knock all such pride out of you. As I have done for many famous names before you."

It was true, the students thought, Miss Geist's proteges were known for bringing great acting as much as musical prowess to the operatic stage. They were also known to be easy to get along with. None of them were stuck-up 'prima donnas' except in the original meaning of the phrase. Was this why? Were they all spanked by this tall imposing woman? And how far would it go? But the number of singers thinking that maybe they should quit the class was zero.


- Link to the music sung in this chapter, if you like that sort of thing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9kp6pI3Or4
(Nice drawings in this clip too).

Skyrim - The Untold Story 17-20

What "Skyrim" didn't tell you about what befell the Dragonborn. She was in fact a blonde Breton mage, condemned as a prisoner to serve her sentence naked. And her punishments didn't stop at that. The smaller pictures are the official story, the larger one is the untold truth: the painful perils of the Dragonborn.
 

Skyrim - The Untold Story 13-16

What "Skyrim" didn't tell you about what befell the Dragonborn. She was in fact a blonde Breton mage, condemned as a prisoner to serve her sentence naked. And her punishments didn't stop at that. The smaller pictures are the official story, the larger one is the untold truth: the painful perils of the Dragonborn.

 

Buffy's Spanking Club - First Game 13-16

Cordelia gripped her upper arm and ordered "Get over"! With Buffy's superb physical fitness, she had no trouble arching herself right over Cordelia's thighs so she could plant her hands straight onto the floor on the other side. Gravity made her bared breasts dangle, and the slightest movement made them bob and sway. Buffy felt mortified, but excited by her daring in getting into this situation. Meanwhile, Cordelia was seeing exactly what she had wanted to see: the bottom of her longtime social rival, waiting bare at her disposal.

It was begging to be smacked, and smack it Cordelia did. The earlier wobbling of Buffy's breasts had been a prelude to the rippling of her bare bottom, as slap after slap began to turn it a glowing pink. The sound of spanking was accompanied by a heavy breathing and occasional groaning on Buffy's part as she absorbed the seperate stings and the steadily increasing sensation of burning. She had great powers of healing but was not at all impervious to pain!
After a while, Cordelia asked "Tell me, loser, do you want it harder or softer?"

Buffy did NOT want Cordelia to spank harder! She seemed to be doing it quite hard already. But Buffy knew the answer she was required to give if she was to keep up her submissiveness, which she was using as a mental shield. "Spank me harder, please, Cordelia!"

Cordelia did not hold back. The red bottom in front of her was clearly very well cushioned, and she began to spank as hard as she could. Her arm was raised to above head level before each smack came swooping down with a loud 'whap' that echoed in the room. To make it even worse, she gave three or four full-strength slaps in the one spot before moving on.



Buffy's yelps became much louder, feeling this dreadful attack on her nude womanly bottom. The jeans went flying as she kicked, but her legs remained trapped by her panties. Her bare breasts swayed all the more in response to her desperate squirming. Cordelia was extracting the full measure of pain and humiliation possible within the bounds of the agreed penalty.

Fred started to look uncomfortable at the intensity of the spanking she was watching. "Don't worry" said Willow, "these two Homecoming Queens have unresolved issues from way back."

As Buffy yelled, over and over, and tears filled her eyes, a phrase from the rules came to her mind: 'All members shall acknowledge that penalties are expected to be painful and embarrassing'. This was only what she had let herself in for. She had gambled and lost, fair and square.

Finally Cordelia stopped spanking, feeling her arm starting to ache, and her palm hurting considerably. "You may consider yourself punished, miss super-girl" she said archly.

"Here's the lotion" said Willow, lunging forward to minister to her friend. Cordelia chuckled. "You'll need plenty of it! Did you buy the large economy size?" Buffy could do nothing but groan.



Cordelia stood and raised her clasped hands in a victory salute. Fred and Willow laughed and applauded, then each gave Buffy a comforting hug.

"So now I go on to the final, against Fred" said Cordelia. "But we keep our panties on this time, right?"

"Yes" said Willow, "the two winners have earned that privilege. But after your tricks we'd better say 'undergarments' must remain on, not 'panties'."

"Spoilsport" pouted Cordelia. "OK, I'm ready. Where are the dice?". Fred stepped up nervously...

The contestants in this final were the smallest and tallest members, workmates at Angel's detective agency. Cordelia threw the dice, rolling a six and a four. "Beat that!" she said excitedly. Petite young Fred picked up the dice with an air of resignation, and rolled. Her total was only six.

After Cordelia's deviousness in the last round, in making Buffy take her spanking bare-breasted, the others had been careful to prevent the same loophole for this winners' final. But Cordelia had another trick up her sleeve. Grinning, she said "The penalty has to be a hand-spanking, undies on, over the knee, this time? But again, I get to decide any other details. Such as... WHERE the punishment will be carried out!" She began to carry the chair towards Willow's front door, which led to a patio in view of the street.

Fred suddenly realised what was going to happen. "Out there where someone could walk by? Is that allowed? Willow, do you really want anyone to see a spanking going on at your house?"

Willow had never cared much what her neighbours thought, and her parents were away for a month. Also, it wasn't her bottom that would be spanked in public. She replied "I guess from now on we have to add whether a penalty is private or public when we agree on it. But for now, rules are rules. Cordelia won, and you have to obey her."

As Fred followed the others sheepishly out to the patio, she felt afraid. But then the daring of what she was about to do excited her. Pulling her short pants down where there was a chance that a stranger would see? And being spanked that way? Besides, she wouldn't be doing it of her own accord, but under orders. She would be able to say to herself 'I had no choice, I had to be obedient'.

The ideas of obedience and submission brought back all her fantasies of being a convict or a 'Private Benjamin' type of soldier, under orders and being punished for any infraction. As a prisoner in Pylea she had used a fake collar to avoid actually being a slave. But she decided she would use her earlier fantasies to roleplay the situation.

Cordelia had set up the chair in the front yard, in front of the patio, in line with the front gate. To anyone passing by, there would be a short stretch of ground near the gate where, if they turned their head, they would see what was going on. Fred marched to a spot at Cordelia's right, halted and barked "Reporting for punishment, MA'AM!", earning a laugh from the others. Fred's bright clothes were not at all military, but seemed just right for an al-fresco spanking in the sunlight.

Cordelia suddenly grabbed Fred's short red pants and pulled them to her knees. The unfortunate game-loser was showing her somewhat juvenile pink-fringed underwear to any passers-by. She dared not flick her eyes toward the gate, for fear of what she might see.

"Very cute" cooed Cordelia. "Now get over my lap, little girl!"

Buffy's Spanking Club - First Game 9-12

Cordelia looked at Buffy as she reached for the dice, and thought how great it would be to spank this uppity super-heroine, whose exploits had embarrassed her time after time. The devious brunette had plans to use the rules to give herself maximum pleasure if she won. Excitedly, she rolled the cubes. Two fours! Not bad!

Buffy was desperate to do better than Cordelia's eight. She had always resented Cordy's superior alpha-girl demeanour, and (until recently) her snobbishness about her wealth. It would be so much fun to make her obey humiliating orders, and to smack her bare bottom hard.



But disaster struck - Buffy rolled a total of five!

Cordelia rubbed her hands in glee. "Oh goody goody!" She ran to the spanker's chair and plopped herself down on it. "Now let's see, how shall I have you?" She pretended to think hard, though she knew exactly what she was going to do.

"The penalty was stated as a hand-spanking, bare bottom, over the knee, right?" she continued. "But any other details are up to me. Such as... what 'Buffy the Loser' will be wearing on her top half!"

It took Buffy only a second to work out that the answer to this question was going to be 'Nothing'. Her jaw dropped and she gasped. "Surely that's not what a panties-down penalty is supposed to mean?"

Cordelia replied "Your panties WILL be down, don't worry about that!" Then she appealed to the others, "I'm within the rules, aren't I?"

Willow felt compelled to stick to the rules, and pronounced like a judge: "The case is consistent with spanker's privilege pursuant to rule 3, and with infliction of humiliation pursuant to rule 1." Fred nodded in agreement.

Buffy had been disappointed but accepting, when she lost the roll. But now she could see that her desire to humiliate Cordelia had backfired really badly. She had to do as she was told, and do it submissively or risk being spanked for twice as long, under rule 4. As she raised her top and took it off, she felt dejected. But then she remembered saying to Willow "I think I'd enjoy being put in that position myself - to be submissive, however embarrassing the commands."

Pushing aside her desire to dominate Cordelia, she made herself think of all her fantasies of being submissive. "Well, if I have to be the obedient one, I'm going to do it to the max."

Just then Cordelia, with great relish, commanded her to remove her bra. "Show everyone what a loser's tits look like!" she ordered. "Yes Mistress" said Buffy humbly, and began to obey. Cordelia was delighted at this response and watched eagerly as Buffy undid the bra and tossed it away.



Warming to her submissive role, Buffy made no attempt to hide her pale boobs with their dainty nipples, but stood with her hands by her sides. Willow and Fred were rapt, seeing the personality change that bare-breasted Buffy was undergoing. Always having to be the strong dominant one in a crisis, she was fulfilling a desire to be the opposite just for once.

Cordelia was going to exploit the situation in every detail. "Drag your jeans straight down to your ankles and come back to attention as fast as you can" she commanded. Buffy undid her jeans as fast as her fingers would go, pulled them to her ankles in one brisk movement, then stood bolt upright. This action created the intended display - her breasts swayed as she bent, and continued to bounce for a second after she stood up.

"Bouncy bouncy!" chortled Cordelia. "That's a good Slayer. If only the vamps could see you now!"



Buffy stood wearing nothing above her ankles but yellow-trimmed panties. She had chosen them to match her yellow top, expecting that if she lost a game she would be still wearing the top when her jeans came down. Foiled! Some of her humiliation at losing returned, and part of it was filed in the back of her mind as a great desire to get Cordelia back some time. But the rest was soon squashed by her thrill of submission. She felt flushed and had butterflies in her stomach.

"Come closer!" ordered Cordelia, and Buffy shuffled nearer the spanking chair, her ankles trapped by her jeans. Realising that Buffy had surrendered completely, Cordelia said "Admit you're the loser, Buffy. Ask me to take your pants down and spank you. And with details".

Buffy took a deep breath. "Cordelia, you're the winner and I'm the loser. Please pull my panties down, bend me over your knee, and smack my bare bottom very hard." It would be difficult to tell which of the two women felt more excited by the utterance of those words. Although they were basically straight, there was a distinct moistening going on. Even the two onlookers felt a hardening of nipples (and elsewhere) - after all, this sort of thing was why they had formed the club. Buffy's excitement, of course, was clearly visible. One would have thought the temperature was anomalously low in the region of her bosom.

Cordelia proceeded to fulfil Buffy's request. She grabbed the exposed panties and pulled them sharply down to Buffy's knees, leaving her virtually naked. For a half-second, a reflex of feminine defense made Buffy bend forward slightly and her hands left her sides as if to cover her Brazilian-lined pubic hair. But she recovered and went back to attention, feeling the cool of the air-conditioning on her nudity.

Real Historical Punishments 10-12

Real Punishments - 1590 Gilly Duncan

10. The Deputy Bailiff of Tranent in Scotland became (he claimed) suspicious of his maid and decided to look for a "witch's mark" on her body - a point that did not feel pain. This was done with hot needles and involved examining every inch of skin, including the scalp.

No doubt the Bailiff had always wanted to see Gilly Duncan naked, and accusing her of witchcraft let him throw in a little torture as well. He couldn't normally touch those boobs and get away with it, but with the right excuse...



Real Punishments - 1629 Gotter Ness

11. During the witch trials in Germany, in 1629, a woman named Gotter Ness (one of many victims) was forced onto a metal seat over a fire. But she wouldn't confess to witchcraft. History doesn't record whether she was executed anyway. Those holy inquisitors - they were really fun guys!



[I never had such trouble with a render as this damn picture! Daz/3Delight wouldn't stop crashing to desktop until I removed a second inquisitor, turned off all shadow casting, and took out the red light-source. I had to replace the red light in post-production (with GIMP). And my computer is only a year old!]


Real Punishments - 1650 Susan Coles

12. In the mid-17th century according to the records of Hartford, Connecticut, a maidservant named Susan Coles was arraigned ‘for her rebellious cariedge towards her mistres’. Susan was sent to the house of correction, there to be ‘kept to hard labour and coarse dyet, to be brought forth the next lecture day to be publicquely corrected and so to be corrected weekly until order be given to the contrary.’ (Original spelling).

Some of the American colonies imported an English method of bondage for punishment called 'the Bilboes', intended to inflict maximum public humiliation on those punished. This weekly exposure and caning will teach Susan not to be cheeky to her Mistress!

Game of Thrones - Humiliation of Cersei

Not one of my 'deleted scenes' from the GoT TV series, but an actual scene from one of the later books. Queen Cersei ends up arrested by a Templar-like religious order she unwisely allowed back into the city in exchange for a huge loan. For her crimes of adultery and incest, she has to do a naked walk of penance all around Kings Landing. I'd put in the crowd jeering at her, but DAZ wouldn't render them.

A State of Public Humiliation 16+17

A State of Public Humiliation - Part 16/17

For the rarely-used public flogging in Fredonia, a winch apparatus was moved to the town square. The procedure was for the criminal to be raised high above the square for an hour, naked for the people to look at and to taunt. Then he or she would be lowered to within reach and whipped. Finally, the victim would be winched up again for another hour - to endure more public taunting and the lasting pain left behind by the lash.

While the parts of the winch were assembled, Lady Wilhemina Garron visited her unfortunate niece in the dungeon, where this time she was being held under lock and key.

"Princess Annabeth" she said, "you have disgraced your Royal parents, disobeyed me within my borders where I am an absolute ruler, and milder punishments have had no effect on you. It only remains for me to decide how many lashes of the whip you will receive in public."

Lady W decided to play a little mind game. "I want you to name a number of lashes you think you should get. I am also thinking of a number. If you say a number greater than mine, you will receive the number of lashes you have named. But if you say a number less than mine, you will receive double the number _I_ am thinking of."

Annabeth tried to figure out what to say. If she named a trivial number she would be sure to get double Lady W's sentence. It seemed she had taken well over a hundred with the switch from Carmilla, but the whip would be worse. What number would her aunt be thinking? Ideally, she needed to equal it, but asking for just one stroke less would be disaster. So what sentence would her aunt, not a cruel woman, (thank God it wasn't Carmilla passing sentence) give her for her misdeeds? Two dozen? Twenty-five?

"Thirty" she said with her heart in her mouth, hoping she had left enough margin for error even at the cost of five or six extra lashes.

"Exactly right" said Lady W. This was untrue - she had not thought of any number. She wanted the Princess to sentence herself. Thirty lashes delivered all over her body would be the most painful thing she had ever endured, but put her in no danger of being maimed or worse. The stockwhip used had a single heavy tail, but did not tear the flesh.

Carmilla arrived early for the spectacle she had so looked forward to. Sadly, the whip would be wielded by Shirrif Leclaire, so Carmilla contented herself with operating the winch. Due to Annabeth's lies, she had endured a full day's naked public humiliation, and resented every bit of it - even the short haircut that had been forced on her as part of the ritual, so that her face would be seen as she hung spread-eagled.

The Princess was strangely calm as she was led out nude to the square, and her wrists were locked into the suspension bar at the end of the winch's chain. Then with great pleasure, the sadistic maid hauled her up.

As with a standard public humiliation, the punishment started at dawn, so it took a while before people gathered to stare at the naked blonde and to insult her. The one mercy was that she was out of reach of being groped. Carmilla, of course, led the taunting "You have no idea what agony you're about to enjoy, Your Highness! The lash will be used front and back as you twist and swing on the end of that chain. Did your bottom hurt when I gave you a switching? Wait till you feel the whip across your boobs. It might even find its way between your legs. I certainly hope so."

After an hour, the maid winched the Princess down so that her toes just touched the ground. Leclaire raised the whip, and began with a lash across Annabeth's shoulders. She didn't scream, but a realisation of the exact amount it would hurt, thirty times and all over her body, made her start crying. The second was across her bottom and intensified the weeping.

This time she knew it was useless to beg for mercy. She uttered no words throughout the ordeal. Her crying became screaming when the twisting of the chain brought her front into convenient reach of Leclaire's whip. Harsh welts were created across her thighs, stomach and breasts. The people watching called out the number of lashes enthusiastically.

When they finally reached thirty, the torrent of the Princess' tears had moved some of the kinder hearts present, including Leclaire's. Lady W was not present, unable to watch. Leclaire whispered to Annabeth. "The worst is over, Your Highness. Just an hour to wait now." He nodded to Carmilla who hauled the Princess' striped body back up high.

For an hour Annabeth hung there, gradually reducing her sobbing - although she wept a little harder when she heard things like: "That'll teach you, little Miss Show-off"; "I hope it hurt, you blasphemous pervert"; "Still want to strut around nude, aristo slut?"

Carmilla felt no need to add to these comments. She just enjoyed the sight of the dangling blonde and the angry whip-marks that would last for several weeks. It was just as well Leclaire was there to order the Princess winched down at the end of the hour.

This punishment did what Lady W had hoped - it finally made Annabeth wake up to the fact that she couldn't get away with anything she liked. The traumatic experience drove her feelings of exhibitionism either away or deep down. No one could tell which.

When she returned home she apologized profusely to her parents, and went back to college. She finished her education, and soon afterwards she was engaged to the Crown Prince of an eastern European monarchy, re-established under the limited British-style model by one of the post-Communist countries. Her fiancee ignored the tabloid "Church-streaking Princess to wed" headlines. In fact, it was those pictures on the net that had made him determined to have her.

When her husband became titular King, Annabeth became Queen Consort and used her influence to see that friendly relations with Fredonia were maintained. By now she had forgiven her aunt, and simply forgotten Carmilla. Carmilla was only a maid after all - why should a Queen bother to hold a grudge?


A State of Public Humiliation - Part 17/17

EPILOGUE:
Queen Annabeth Garron had been content for many years, with her husband as Prince and now King. It had been a long time since she had felt the urge to run naked in a public place or along a farmyard track. The memory was fading of the severe corporal punishments she had suffered for it in her Aunt Wilhemina's tiny state of Fredonia.

The King now and then showed her the notorious pictures of her, naked in a televangelist modern church, to tease her and laugh - and then to remark that the beautiful body depicted was now his. Annabeth didn't mind, because he would then prove his ownership by taking her body, skilfully and lovingly. But the mirror told the Queen more and more each year that the body in the pictures no longer existed.

One day, a bittersweet message arrived. Lady Wilhemina Garron had passed on, and Annabeth was the nearest relative. As well as a Queen Consort, she was now the absolute Ruler of the State of Fredonia. The King agreed that it was her duty to see that the affairs of the state were in order.

As she approached the town, the rural roads reminded her of when she had felt the wind on her naked body, and the excitement of the day when, for the first time, a young boy had removed her panties. She had paid for it with a well-whipped behind, but she felt the first stirrings of an old sexual obsession returning.

It was strange to walk in the market square where she had been exposed naked to the public. All the clothing had changed. What the young people wore nowadays was weird! But the posts and chains were still there. Fashions may have changed in Fredonia, but not the law!

At the Castle, Annabeth struggled with mixed feelings when an aged servant greeted her, red hair turning to gray. "Welcome, Your Majesty" said the old maid as she curtsied deeply.

"Well, Carmilla" the new ruler replied in an even tone of voice. "Did you continue beating my aunt up to her dying day?"

"No, Your Majesty. Arthritis in my whipping arm put paid to that long ago. It was most disappointing. I can hardly do a normal maid's duties any more."

"Is there a pension scheme in Fredonia?" asked Annabeth. "No? Then when you can no longer work you'll have to rely on friends or relatives. I wonder if you'll be able to find anyone you haven't treated with sadism and brutality."

"As Your Majesty pleases." Old Carmilla curtsied again, and Annabeth felt a little guilty for using such uncharitable words. She would see that Carmilla didn't starve.

In the study, she found that the tiny state had been kept in order during Lady W's final illness by the now venerable Shirrif Leclaire. She decided to make him Regent, since she couldn't stay in Fredonia. Then she came upon some forms, with dotted lines to be filled in, which read:

"BEHOLD THE NAKED AND DISGRACED PERSON OF A MISCREANT. Whereas...  ...has been found guilty by our wise and just ruler of the crime of... ...the said criminal shall be exposed in the market place from morn until sundown this market day, stripped of all covering and all dignity. Citizens are commanded to express their contempt for such lawbreakers as seems fit to them. By order...."

Memory flooded back, of what Lady Wilhemina had done to herself just before Annabeth's visit, to express her need for humiliation, exposure and punishment. In contrast, Annabeth's own exhibitionism at the time was about showing off her young beautiful body. "I can't do that now" she thought, "public exposure these days would be truly embarrassing".

Suddenly, a powerful urge struck her. She set pen to paper, and possessed by instincts long forgotten, she wrote in two different places on the form "Queen Annabeth Garron".

The spectacle that ensued the following day in the market place showed that the Garron family, descendants of Baron Masoch, had come full circle. As she stood spread-eagled to the shock and enjoyment of the crowd, Queen Annabeth thought "I may spend a lot of time here after all. And at this rate I might need a special maid soon. I wonder if Carmilla has a daughter!"

THE END

A State of Public Humiliation 13+14+15

A State of Public Humiliation - Part 13/17

It fell to Carmilla to inform Lady Wilhemina that Princess Annabeth had absconded. "Apparently she found it very easy, Your Ladyship. Her room was never locked, and she had explored every possible way out of the palace for the purpose of her nude streaking. Also, our borders are not well guarded."

"No, we can't afford enough men. But I can see what you're hinting at, Carmilla. I should have kept her locked in - it didn't occur to me that she might bolt. Every stage of her escape was a result of my negligence. So you think I should be punished according to our contract. And you're right."

The red-haired maid looked at the ceiling rafters in Lady W's study. "Right here will do fine, I think, M'Lady. I will bring some ropes."

"Send someone to fetch Leclaire in the morning" sighed Lady W as she resignedly began to undress. "I'm not going to let Annabeth get away with this".

As well as the ropes, Carmilla returned with a martinet. The small multi-tailed whip was not the type to cut through skin - it would leave only red marks in its painful wake. Soon, Lady Wilhemina was trussed up naked for it, suspended from the study rafters. She was most apprehensive when it became clear that Carmilla was placing her in the kind of bondage that offered her front to the whip, not her back. "What part of me are you going to whip?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Whatever part takes my fancy from moment to moment, Your Ladyship. I believe I'll start with your wide thighs, and move on to more private areas later. Your Ladyship should not hope that any of her most sensitive spots will be left out."

Carmilla surveyed all the surfaces that were hanging there for her cruel intentions. She was really getting to love her job...

But let us abandon Lady Wilhemina to her sufferings, and focus our attention on the escaped Princess. Her credit cards had not been well hidden, since they were useless in technologically backward Fredonia anyway. So she had found them easily, and once across the border, she purchased what she needed for her revenge - one laptop computer with built-in webcam.


A State of Public Humiliation - Part 14/17

Princess Annabeth was free at last! As well as the new laptop, she bought herself a better hair and make-up job than she'd been allowed when living with her parents or her Aunt Wilhemina. With this more glamorous look, she set about her plan for revenge.

The town just across the border from Fredonia where the Princess found herself, was famous for only one thing. It had a leading Protestant revivalist church that produced its own TV programs. Annabeth fixed on its modern building as her target. She intended to tell her story on the internet, about what punishments had happened to her in Fredonia. But she needed a visual image as a hook, to make sure of the maximum readership. "Princess naked in televangelist church" seemed to be the ideal title.

So she slipped into the building at dawn in the middle of the week, taking her new laptop with its built-in webcam. She set it up at the back of the stage and adjusted the angle. Then she started the recording, stood next to the lectern and began to strip.

This stage and modern pulpit were more usually used for 'Come to Jesus' sermons. But now they served as a setting for a display of royal feminine nudity. Annabeth struck some poses that would ensure some good frame-grabs from the recorded video, two of which can be seen here:

She had already written the text that would go with the pictures. It described vicious corporal punishments and public humiliation in the 'barbaric' state of Fredonia, but glossed over what she had done to deserve them. Particularly omitted were her beating of a maidservant, and deliberate exposure of her nakedness to a 16-year-old boy. In her version of events, she had just been doing a bit of streaking, for a joke.

After stopping the recording, the Princess verified that she had a wireless net connection (not well secured by the church), then uploaded her work. She stayed naked until after she had pressed the Send button right on the church stage. After all, it was an exciting moment.

The pictures certainly caused a splash, which went straight from the net to the mass media. But less attention was paid to the accompanying text. Annabeth had overdone the visual component. 'Corporal punishment in some country we've never heard of' was not as good a headline as 'Royal nudity in church'.

Of those who read Annabeth's complaints, people of the Right thought she must have deserved it if she liked profaning a 'house of the Lord'; and people of the Left thought it was a typical 'airhead celebrity' stunt, and a funny one at that. Not even Diana had been so entertaining! Annabeth ended up getting no sympathy whatever for her tales of getting a sore bottom.

Lady Wilhemina received no formal complaints at all about the judicial system in her country. But she did, of course, find out what Annabeth had done. There was no internet in Fredonia, but there certainly was in the country of Annabeth's parents, who were embarrassed and outraged. Their Royal Majesties sent a courier to Lady W telling her all about it, and said that if she should get hold of their daughter before they did, she should feel free to punish the Princess in any way she thought fit.

When Annabeth returned to her hotel a few days later, she was expecting to be arrested by local police or agents from her parents' country at any time. But when she was seized by two men, the voice that spoke behind her was horribly familiar. "All right, let's get her back across the border" said Shirrif Leclaire.


A State of Public Humiliation - Part 15/17

On the way back to Fredonia, Shirrif Leclaire questioned Princess Annabeth on how she had escaped. Annabeth knew she was facing horrible punishment, and had one more revenge card left to play. She said Carmilla had advised her on the most weakly guarded point of the border, and that the red-haired maid had supplied her with items necessary in her flight, including her credit cards.

The truth was that the Princess had found where they had been confiscated, without help. But Leclaire knew Carmilla to be cunning, devious and sadistic. He was inclined to believe Annabeth, and at the palace he confronted the maid with the accusations.

Carmilla denied everything. But Leclaire asked "Didn't Her Highness go streaking in Fredonia for the first time only because you dared her to, and had a bet with her?"

"Well, yes. But I had nothing to do with it this time. If you arrest me, I'll appeal to Lady Wilhemina."

Leclaire smiled and said "I don't think Her Ladyship will be very receptive, do you? I hear you have been quite brutal in exploiting her contract allowing you to punish her. And over the Princess' escape in particular".

Carmilla started to panic. Could he be right? Could her recent vicious whipping of Lady W's most secret places have been one cruel punishment too many? Carmilla realised she had no friends in this matter.

Sure enough, Lady W saw no reason to overrule Annabeth's word and Leclaire's recommendation against Carmilla's unsupported denial. She filled out one of the forms she had once filled out for herself, delivering the devious maid for public humiliation.

With her hair cut short according to the law, Carmilla was spread-eagled naked in the village square. No corporal punishment was formally imposed, but since Carmilla was over 21, the guards would not prevent the public from tormenting and chastising the victim within certain limits.

Most people of the village were scared to taunt or hurt Carmilla. They knew she would be free the next day, and her viciousness was well known. But some people from outlying districts had their fun, spanking the redhead's behind with their hands or their belts, and groping her boobs and pussy roughly.

Carmilla gritted her teeth and comforted herself in the knowledge that the Princess' public whipping was going to be far worse than what she was enduring. It was scheduled for the next day. For every slap on her bottom, Carmilla thought "That little bitch is going to feel the whip". For every humiliating molestation, she mumbled "I can't wait till tomorrow, I can't wait!"

A State of Public Humiliation 5+6

A State of Public Humiliation - Part 5/17

Maid Carmilla wasn't pleased to see the naked form of Princess Annabeth return to the palace via the servants' entrance. It meant she hadn't got caught, and Carmilla had lost the bet.

The Princess waved the sign she had stolen from the market place as the proof of her long streak. "Prepare for a spanking, Carmilla" she said with a triumphant grin.

"Didn't anyone see you?"

"Some guy in silver armor. But I outran him." Without even getting dressed, Annabeth picked up the hairbrush and smacked the back of it against her hand.

Carmilla smiled to herself. The Shirrif would certainly report the incident to Lady Wilhemina, so the Princess wasn't going to get off scot free. But there was no doubt she had won the bet. The maid lifted her skirt and began to bend over.

"Not so fast" said the Princess. "This will be done my way. Go and get two pairs of Aunt Wilhemina's manacles. I know she'll have them." Carmilla sighed grumpily and did as she was told.

The Princess led her to a preparation room that served the kitchen. "Now we'll have all your clothes off. I had to get naked to win the bet, so you can get naked to pay it off. Then I want you over this table."

Soon the redhaired maid was lying diagonally across a cold uncomfortable metal table, chained using two opposite legs. The still-nude Princess began to beat her bare behind. 'Beat' seemed a more appropriate word than 'spanked'. Annabeth whacked the helpless servant as hard as she could with the wooden hairbrush back. Carmilla was stubborn and restrained any sound for a long while. But the Princess kept on and on mercilessly, until Carmilla was yelling, and then begging her to stop.

When she was finally allowed up, all Carmilla could think about was what would happen when the Princess' nude run was reported.

She didn't have long to wait. Shirrif Leclaire arrived in the morning to describe the naked young body, with it's long flowing blonde hair, that he saw running towards the palace.

Lady Wilhemina called the Princess to her study. After telling her niece what had been reported, she quickly added "You needn't bother to point out my hypocrisy, I'm well aware of it. This sort of thing runs in the family. We are both descendants of Baron Leopold Sacher-Masoch, for whom masochism is named."

"I'm not a masochist" protested the Princess. "I don't even go naked for the sake of humiliation like you. I like showing off MY body!" She said it with a glance at her aunt's wide hips and large loose bosom. "And I enjoy the thrill".

"I'm responsible to your parents for your behaviour" replied Lady W, "and I'm going to make sure you don't follow in my footsteps. Since you say you don't like humiliation, I'm going to make sure you get some".

Lady W sent her away, and began to prepare papers similar to the ones she had prepared for herself, but with some differences. There was a provision in Fredonia's 'public disgrace' laws that allowed for minor offences and for offenders under 21. The blonde Princess would be spread-eagled naked according to tradition, but nobody would be allowed to touch or hurt the prisoner physically. They could still taunt her as much as they liked, and Lady W hoped the things they would say, plus a massive over-stimulation of the Princess' exhibitionism would shock her out of it.


A State of Public Humiliation - Part 6/17

Lady W took out a copy of the Notice of Public Humiliation, using the version for offenders under 21 years old. She filled in the missing information on the dotted lines.

"BEHOLD the naked and disgraced person of a miscreant. Whereas ...Princess Annabeth Garron... has been found guilty by our wise and just ruler of the crime of ...excessive and undeserved beating of a servant... the said criminal shall be exposed in the market place from morn until sundown this market day, stripped of all covering and all dignity. Citizens are commanded to express their contempt for such lawbreakers in words, but not to touch or otherwise inflict pain upon the criminal. By order... Lady Wilhemina Garron, Ruler of Fredonia."

Originally, the charge was going to be, like Lady W's own, "obscene lewdness and perversion". But a better charge had presented itself, when Carmilla had lowered her panties and showed Her Ladyship the bruises the Princess had inflicted with her hairbrush. However, the real reason Lady W was going to have her royal niece shown nude to the mob was her penchant for streaking. She hoped an overdose of public nudity would shock her out of her exhibitionist desires for good.

Carmilla asked for time off to participate in the taunting and humiliation of the Princess that would take place in the market square the next day. "Of course, Carmilla" said Lady W, "You are the victim of her official crime. And I know how inventive you can be in thinking up frightening threats of punishment. Give her a good scare. But help Leclaire make sure nobody actually hurts her."

When Shirrif Leclaire and Lady Wilhemina burst into Annabeth's chambers to make the arrest next morning, she was in her underwear. Leclaire showed her the warrant, and Lady W said "You might as well take her as she is."

The Princess screamed all the way as she was dragged in her lingerie from the palace to the market. Since the junior version of this Punishment didn't include cutting her hair short, she was taken straight to the two posts. Carmilla stood close by, grinning widely, as Leclaire ordered Annabeth to take off her undies. "Nooo!" shrieked the Princess, and hugged herself tightly.

"I'd do as they say, if I were you, Your Highness" warned Carmilla. "If the Shirrif's men have to do it themselves, they have the right to grope you as much as they like. I've seen them pinch a girl's nipples and shove enough fingers up both orifices to make her scream". It was one of the imaginative fictions that Carmilla was good at, but it did it's job. The Princess whimpered and undid her lacy bra, then drew down her panties and stepped out of them.

Early morning marketeers and shoppers began to run towards the posts, as Leclaire secured the chains which held the young blonde spread-eagled. There was no intimate part of her body not on show. Annabeth tried to close her thighs as much as she could, but the chains would only allow her a slight bending of the knees.

Leclaire read the notice aloud. After seeing what had happened with Lady W, nobody was skeptical this time. It was clear they were all allowed to view the naked Princess at leisure, and pass whatever comments they liked. Annabeth heard things like:

"Do all Princesses shave their pussies?"
"Royal titties look the same as any others".
"Beat one of the servants, did she? What a scrawny upper-class bitch!"
"Yeah, this serves you right, Your Vicious Little Highness!"

Two young men came up very close and crouched down. "Nice little pussy lips" said one. "Lets see what a royal clitty looks like". He began to reach for Annabeth's crotch, but Leclaire called out "No touching!"

The other youth said "Never mind, Bill. It's pretty obvious, when you take off a Princess's panties you find the usual things underneath".

Lady Wilhemina had told Leclaire not to contradict anything Carmilla said. The maid began her campaign of bluff by saying "The only person allowed to touch the prisoner is the victim of the crime. And that's me, Your Highness. Isn't that so, Mr Shirrif?" Leclaire went along by nodding gravely.

"So what shall I do to you in front of all these people? Spank your bare butt, like you spanked mine? Or maybe it'll humiliate you more if I stroke you till the people see you turned on. How about that, Your Highness? Everyone gets to see a Princess come, being fingered by her maid."

Bystanders who heard this chorused their approval. "That's it, Carmilla, show us what a slut she is." Carmilla reached toward the Princess' bare immobile body.

Annabeth begged piteously. "Please don't, Carmilla! I'm sorry I spanked you so hard. I shouldn't have made the bet with you at all. Don't grope me in public, please!"

Carmilla said "Then you want me to go back to my first idea - to thrash your behind? I'm sure the furniture maker over there has a spare length of rattan cane. I'll stripe you from your waist to your knees, make you scream until you're hoarse."

The Princess burst into tears and kept saying "No, no, no, I'm sorry!"

Carmilla pointed. "That horseman has a dressage whip. I'll go and borrow it - I won't have to confine myself to the back of you with that." She spoke louder for the crowd. "Who wants to bet that I can make all of the first six lashes fall across her nipples?" The bystanders cheered.

Annabeth's tears flowed. "Please, Carmilla, I'll never hurt you again. From now on I'll do anything you say. Just take me back to the palace!"

A woman nearby called to the rest of the crowd. "Hey, everybody, the Princess just promised to do ANYTHING that Kinky Carmilla wants!" The crowd went "Whoa" and roared with laughter.

Carmilla said "But I can do anything I want right here, and I've still got my heart set on whipping her. What about a few upward swings with some birch branches, to punish her pussy and her Royal butt-hole for a while?"

The maid carried on suggesting terrible tortures, but knew that if the list grew too long and none were carried out, the Princess might suspect the bluff. She made Annabeth swear that for the rest of her stay in Fredonia she would be Carmilla's slave. "Yes, I swear it in front of everybody, just don't hurt me!"

When the fun was over, Annabeth had to walk back to the palace naked. It was the same route she had used for her nighttime streak. But instead of making the trip with a thrill of daring, she was quaking with fear of Carmilla, and weeping with humiliation at the comments that the commoners had passed about her body and her behaviour.

Carmilla was sure she would be no further trouble, and wouldn't go streaking again - at least until she found out about the bluff.

A State of Public Humiliation 3+4

A State of Public Humiliation - Part 3/17

When Lady Wilhemina arrived back at the palace naked after her self-imposed public degradation, the servants were only mildly surprised at the day's events. The only thing new about that day was that Her Ladyship had 'come out' and had been exposed in the market square, in both fulfillment and punishment of her deviancy.

They had often seen her tied or chained in humiliating positions around the palace. It was the duty of Carmilla, her personal maid, to put her in such embarrassing states in front of the servants. But in no way was Carmilla her "Mistress". Lady W was not a submissive - she had endured the punishments of that market day as an act of self-debasement, not submission to anyone involved. She was Fredonia's absolute ruler, and anyone failing to address her by her proper title, or who disobeyed her, was in big trouble.

"Put your hands into these handcuffs, please, Your Ladyship" Carmilla would say. Or "Does My Lady wish to remain tied naked to this bannister until dinner?" The fact that the servants remained servants - Lady W's abject inferiors - ensured that it was hideously embarrassing to have her nude body exposed to them in undignified positions.

The other reason Carmilla was Lady W's favorite was that she had a tantalizingly wicked imagination for punishment and torture. Her Ladyship would ask her maid "How do you think I should be punished" for her sexual desires or for some mistake she'd made. Carmilla always had new suggestions, not one of which was actually carried out - her ideas were always ridiculously agonizing and impractical. But Lady W would love to hear them and imagine them happening.

Carmilla might say, in a quiet tone of voice full of deference and respect, "Your Ladyship's bare bottom should be publicly flogged with a stockwhip for two hours without stopping" or "Your Ladyship should be tied over the bar in a crowded tavern and anally raped with a cactus plant".

Lady W's masochism was about humiliation, not extreme pain. But she would achieve orgasms thinking about how such torture would make her scream, beg for mercy and promise to do anything, in front of the people witnessing her torment. She got off on the degradation such punishment would bring, and would mentally put aside the fact that she would be maimed or killed by most of her maid's suggestions. Fantasy was fantasy.

In real life, Carmilla was confined to tying ropes or locking chains and cuffs, with her ruler stark naked and placed so that her mature private areas were rudely exposed. A few days after the marketplace punishment, she was required to suspend Lady Wilhemina from the ceiling in the drawing room.

"What do you think I deserve for exposing myself in public, Carmilla?" she asked when tied into place.

"Your Ladyship deserves to be lashed on her inner thighs and her vulva with stinging nettles" was the dutiful maid's calm reply.

Carmilla left her employer to contemplate that fate, and continued her other duties. "It's a living" she thought.


A State of Public Humiliation - Part 4/17

The week after her public penance, Lady Wilhemina received a troublesome guest. Lady W was related to most of the royal families of Europe, some closely, some distantly. Her cousins, the King and Queen of a larger neighbouring state, sent their daughter to stay with Lady W in Fredonia for the summer.

The sojourn was really a punishment. In technologically and culturally backward Fredonia, Princess Annabeth would be denied telephone contact with her friends or any modern kind of entertainment. Her royal parents felt she deserved it after how close she came to being expelled in her first year of college. She had been caught 'streaking' on the campus, running naked one evening from her sorority house to the library and back.

She was caught by the campus police. The college officials determined that it wasn't even a hazing stunt. She had simply done it for the thrill, and (unlike her Aunt Wilhemina) because she was proud of her lovely body.

Years of being forced to be prim, proper and elaborately dressed like a Princess should be, had made her go wild that night. She wanted her lissome figure and long blonde hair to feel the evening breeze. And if anyone saw her, she thought, "well they'll see that underneath the royal finery I'm a GIRL, and a sexy one!"

It had taken persuasion by the King and Queen's top bureaucrats and a sizable donation to the college to prevent Annabeth's expulsion and to hush the matter up. They wrote to Lady Wilhemina asking her to take the Princess for a few months. Lady W was dumbfounded. "Don't they know I'm the worst possible person to send her to? I've always assumed my royal relatives know all about me but pretend not to. I'm going to have to make sure Annabeth does NOT look to me as an example. I'll set Carmilla to look after her."

She told her maid Carmilla to keep an eye on their young headstrong guest. "If she misbehaves, bring her to me. I'll punish her myself." In view of her maid's sadistic imagination, she wasn't going to give her free reign over the sensitive skin of a 19-year-old princess.

Carmilla and Annabeth didn't get on well at all. Carmilla had accepted the task of supervision grudgingly, and the Princess was resentful at being kept in such a boring place at all. The maid told her, in respectful terms, that she had to accept some consequences for running around nude in public.

"Is that what my Aunt says?" asked Annabeth. "What a hypocrite! I stopped over in the market square on the way up here, and the sign on the pillars was still up. You know the one I mean - Lady Wilhemina Garron condemned to naked public humiliation by Lady Wilhemina Garron!"

Carmilla's sense of loyalty to her mistress made her incensed. "Perhaps Your Highness was jealous that your little run across a quadrangle was so pathetic compared to your Aunt's daring."

"I could do better than that. I wouldn't mind streaking all the way to that square and back, now it's dark."

Carmilla goaded her. "I find Your Royal Highness hard to believe."

"I bet you" exclaimed the Princess. "I know you can't bet any decent amount of money. So if I chicken out - you can spank me with my hairbrush. But if I do it, YOU get the spanking."

As temporary guardian, Carmilla knew she ought to discourage this. But it was a win-win situation. If this snotty Princess lost the bet, Carmilla could whack her bare bottom with the hairbrush. If Annabeth went ahead with the dare and got caught, at least Carmilla could watch Lady W punishing her. She asked "How will I know that Your Highness has completed the run?"

"You'll see me leave the palace without a stitch. And I'll steal that notice from the market pillars and bring it back." She stripped off her clothes, exposing to the maid her young firm breasts and trendily shaven pubic mound. Then she darted out the servants' entrance and headed for the palace gate. The last thing Carmilla saw was the Princess' long blonde hair above her slim taut buttocks, and thin but strong legs running up the road.

That was how a naked Princess came to be in the market square at night. With no lighting along the road to the palace, her barefoot and nude run was easy. There was some torchlight in the square, but looking around cautiously, Annabeth stole the sign proclaiming her aunt's punishment.

As she turned back toward the palace, a man's voice shouted "Hey!" It was Shirrif Leclaire keeping watch. Annabeth sprinted like mad. She was physically fit, and not encumbered by ancient ceremonial armor as Leclaire was. He couldn't catch her, but he saw the direction she ran. He was aware of the royal visitor's arrival, and put two and two together.