In the faux-Victorian erotic novel The Metamorphosis of Lisette Joyaux, the titular Lisette has four older (and jealous) spanking lesbian friends. So when Lisette gets married, they are offended at her betrayal of their Sapphic principles, and they undertake to blackmail her into coming to them when whenever they summon her, for discipline of their choosing. Unfortunately, they spank her a bit too hard, and Lisette’s husband catches on when he squeezes her bottom and she flinches. Fortunately for Liseette, he turns out to be rather understanding:
“Now what’s this nonsense about my hurting you, my beauty?” he grumbled. “Get out of bed and let me get a good look at you. Come to think about it, you’ve been acting like a scalded cat all night. Stand up, I say, and turn your back to me.”
Lisette obeyed, her lower lip beginning to tremble, tears glistening in her dilated eyes.
“Now, pull up that nightie and let’s see what’s made your bottom so infernally sensitive all of a sudden,” he commanded. “I don’t recall ever having beaten you – at least not yet. And the lovepat and squeezing I gave you certainly can’t have hurt that much. Come now, up with it, or I shall be angry!”
“Oh, J-Jacques-please-” she groaned.
His eyes narrowed with a sudden flash of suspicion. “Are you going to obey me, Lisette, or shall I have to beat you after all?” he demanded, his voice firm.
Weeping softly, Lisette stooped, grimacing as she did so, she grasped the hem of her pink silk night-gown, and lofted it slowly up to mid-thigh.
“Higher than that!” he commanded. “It’s your bottom I want to see, my beauty!”
With a sigh of resignation, Lisette complied. The night-gown, in her trembling fingers, ascended slowly, reluctantly, over the plump round hemispheres of her bottom.
Jacques uttered a strangled, incredulous cry: “But what the devil – how did you get those marks? Mon Dieu, it looks – upon my word, I do believe – yes, certainly, you must have had a whipping! Now what’s the meaning of this? Who dared mar that beautiful white flesh so hideously? Answer me, Lisette!”
He rose from the edge of the bed and advanced towards her; Lisette, dropping her night-gown, burst into hysterical sobs and covered her face as Jacques, furious at this feminine evasion, forced her to face him, his other hand forcing away hers.
“The truth, Lisette! How did you come by that whipping? The marks are quite fresh-explain this to me, or I swear I’ll find out the truth for myself, even if it costs your bottom another thrashing!”
“Oh, no, my love! Oh, my darling, don’t! Oh, I couldn’t bear an-another–wh-whipping now! Oh, have mercy, forgive your poor little wife, I implore you!” Lisette feverishly sobbed.
“Then I command you: Explain yourself! And quickly, before I lose patience,” Jacques Duverneuil exclaimed.
Yet Lisette still hesitated. If Jacques learned the truth, surely he would detest and spurn her as Janine had warned! “It-it was a b-birthday wh-whipping my-my love,” she lied. “Some friends I knew back in the country-tb-they are in Paris now – they had a party for me this afternoon-oh, I swear it’s the truth, my darling!”
But from panic in her words, Jacques understood that it was not. He seized his weeping wife by the wrist and drew her back to the bed. Then, flinging her down over his lap and rucking up the night-gown despite her protests, he exposed again the inflamed bottom-cheeks. Capturing her hands with his own left hand he vised her wrists in a strong grip, then raised his right hand and delivered a furious, sonorous slap against the ripest curve of her buttocks. Instantly Lisette released a strident cry of pain. Her bare legs flailed up and down as she turned her tear-stained face back to him pleading for mercy.
“Ohh-ahrr! Oh, my love, don’t-don’t beat me – if you only knew – oh, my darling, I-I endured it for your sake – and now you’re punishing me for it”
“Yes, and to learn the truth, I shall spank you till your bottom bleeds if need be! Your birthday indeed, when it comes in March! What fabrication are you inventing? Have you perchance found some old roué you fancy more than me, a man whose warped nature makes him long to mar such beautiful white flesh? Answer me – answer me – answer me, I tell you!” His hand angrily rose and fell, punctuating each demand, smiting the inflamed bare bottom till it danced and quaked. Lisette screamed and shrieked as the pangs of the birching were cruelly, burningly, revived.
“Ohhh-ahrr-ohh forgive! M-mercy, my love-aiii-oh, no, no, it wasn’t another man, that I swear to you, my dearest husband! I love only you-but they made me do it! Oh, no, have pity-ahrr-ohh, no more, no more, if you love me!” Lisette hysterically implored. But his hand fell twice more on her burning behind.
“Then tell me the truth, Lisette!” Again his hand fell again and again, before the agonised young beauty, her hips jerking and weaving wildly over his lap, capitulated.
“Owoeeeeahrrr! Ohh, mercy, darling! Stop-aii-ohh, I’ll tell you, oh forgive me! Ahrrr–it hurts me so, Jacques! Oh, be kind to me and give me a minute-I-I’ll tell you!”
“All right! One minute exactly-and then the whole truth, or you know what to expect!” he growled, holding her wrists tighter than ever and letting his right hand press over her shuddering, inflamed bottom to intimate to Lisette what peril she faced.
Weeping then in bitter shame, Lisette slowly confessed, fearing more the anger and loss of her husband’s love than the possibility of his being morally offended at her Sapphic proclivities. Of these, she innocently managed, by dint of telling the story exactly as it occurred-starting with that first summer day when she happened upon the summerhouse-to convince him that her sin was hardly so great as she imagined; he well knew that girls, sent to a private school, often naturally develop a crush on a roommate or older woman who takes the role of tutor and initiator. But when she came to the ruse by which Janine Ericourt summoned her back into the toils of Lesbian bondage, he uttered an angry oath: “Mon Dieu! What a conniving bitch you have for a friend, my poor girl!” “Ohh, J-Jacques-I was so afraid-I thought you d look at me as if I were a-a-s-slut! I was so afraid-” she sobbed.
His face grew gentle. “No, darling, I don’t blame you. And it’s not so serious, after all. There you were, living only with a sick, nearly blind old aunt who couldn’t possibly teach you the things every young girl should know, and you had no boys to flirt with and learn from. And I’m just as happy you didn’t, because I’m sure I was your first lover-”
“Ohh, yes, yes, you were, you are, my dearest darling!” Lisette groaned, again dissolving into tears.
“Very well then, and I believe you,” Jacques said tenderly as he lowered Lisette’s night-gown and gently lifted her and set her on her feet. “But I have my own opinion about these shameless bitches who intended to corrupt you and turn you away from me — unless, to be sure, you feel more gratified when they caress you than when I do?”
“Oh, no! Oh, my beloved Jacques, how can you even think such a thing!” Lisette tearfully protested as she circled her pale, girlish arms round his neck and clung to him as if fearing he would disappear forever. “Yes, it’s true, when-they made me do-certain things-when I was a girl, I-I was excited. And even today-and-and last week, too-I have to confess that when-when they c-caressed me, I felt p-passion. Oh, my darling, does this mean I-I’m a Lesbian, too?”
“Silly little fool, of course it doesn’t!” he said tenderly as his hands stroked her quivering sides. “There isn’t a girl living who hasn’t at one time or another felt aroused by the attentions of another female. No, I’m satisfied from first-hand evidence, my dearest wife, that your response to me shows only a healthy sensuality-and I mean to keep it channelled in that direction from now on!”
With this, he whispered something into her ear, and Lisette gasped, blushed, then shyly nodded. And he added, “Since it appears to me that being punished on your lovely behind excites you, then be sure I shall take charge of your discipline from this moment forth, for I am jealous of anyone else’s abrogating my rights! Now come, Lisette darling, come back to bed, and I’ll see if I can’t make you forget that sensitive and tender backside of yours!”