Over The Punishment Stool

Poor Doris is a servant in the House Of Dark Pleasure (Greenleaf Classics 1972), and the mistress of the house is a cruel sadist indeed. Doris knows she’s in serious trouble when the dreaded punishment stool comes out of the closet:

“Fasten her to the punishment stool,” said Mildred, casually.

Doris’s eyes jerked open wide. The stool!

“No!” she screamed, “I won’t do it—no, no, no!”

Mildred lit a cigarette while Mabel dragged the strange stool from its place in the closet.

Doris made a lunge for the door, but George blocked her, regretfully but stolidly. “Relax, Miss Dainton,” he murmured.

Miss Dainton! She felt like laughing hysterically.

They stripped off her skirt, removed her shredded panties then tied her face down over the leather-covered stool. With vicious pleasure, Mabel tightened the straps that held her wrists and ankles in place.

“Get me the strap,” said Mildred, and Doris’s mind careened wildly. It isn’t possible! This can’t be happening to me! I’ve seen this happen to Mabel … but me, Doris, it isn’t real!

“No, no, no!” she screamed. “Stop it—I want to go—I’m not staying here—Yiiiiiiih!” The high sound of fear spiraled from her lips.

“Please, Doris,” said Mildred, patiently, “if you persist in screaming I’ll have to gag your mouth—the sound is hurting my ears!”

House Of Dark Pleasure stroke book cover: source of punishment stool spanking story excerpt

“Relax, Miss Dainton,” said George in his level voice.

She screamed again, and the sound seemed to excite Mildred. “See how her bottom squirms each time she screams,” she hissed.

“Is this the right strap, Ma’am?” George asked.

“Yesss,” Mildred hissed. “I don’t want to break the skin — this two-inch width is perfect.”

Petrified with fear, Doris heard the rustle of movement behind her; heard Mabel draw in her breath with an excited sound of anticipation … then the strap whistled through the air. The sharp pain cut through her buttocks, piercing from one sensitive cheek to the other then throbbing all over her bottom.

She screamed again—with rage as well as pain. That they should do this to me!

The strap slashed down again, and she screamed again.

Again, the slap of the leather then the shrill sound from her lips.

“Oh, pleeeeze, ” she moaned, “no more—please!”

Miraculously, the slashing ceased.

“Such soft young flesh,” Mildred whispered; then she felt fingers pinching her bottom, squeezing abused flesh cruelly but sensually and something stiff but narrow stabbed into her anus. “Hot little asshole,” murmured Mildred. “She’s a delicious piece of flesh. How could I ever let her go?”

There was a rustle of movement again, then Mildred snapped, “Is Doctor Basil here yet?”

“Waiting outside, Ma’am,” said George in his deferential voice.

“Have him come in,” Mildred snapped.

Doris heard the sound of the door opening, then Mildred spoke to Mabel. “Get the box from the dresser.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Mabel, eagerly, and Doris knew from the tone of the cook’s voice that she was looking forward to jabbing an electrode into her sensitive anus, then sending in searing shocks.

“No,” she moaned, “please, Mildred, not that!”

“Be patient, dear,” said her mistress. “Punishment before pleasure!”

Mabel’s voice was hungry. “Shall I stick it in her, Ma’am?”

“No!” Doris screamed, “oh, no!”

“Proceed, Mabel,” said Mildred, her voice calm, “don’t hurt her more than you have to!”

Doris felt as though her bottom was protruding up to the ceiling; she wanted to draw the cheeks in, contract her buttocks and make her small anus even smaller.

Mabel probed at the wet opening; Doris felt the cool end of the electrode touching the inner tissue, then Mabel stabbed it in, deeply, cruelly.

She screamed again; racked with pain but hopeless.

“Now turn on the current,” said Mildred.

The jolt made her flatten her belly against the leather-covered stool; an agonizing pain spiraled through her anus and into the base of her belly.

“Again,” said Mildred, “just watch the water squirt from her pussy— it’s a most exciting sight!”

The fierce current throbbed through her flesh again, making her squeal with agony, bite at her lips and urinate.

“Just one more,” said Mildred.

This time Doris jerked herself up until only the straps kept her body from twisting off the stool. The shocks throbbed all over her, paralyzing her throat so that she couldn’t even scream any more.

“That’ll be enough,” said Mildred. “We don’t want the poor girl to faint—we have so much more in store for her.” Then she laughed, a sickening sadistic laugh.

“What are you doing?” It was Doctor Marston’s voice.

“Ah, Basil,” said Mildred, “you’ve brought your appliance — your magic box?”

“Yes,” he answered, “but what’re you doing to this poor girl?”

“Make them stop!” Doris screamed. “They’re torturing me, Doctor, make them stop!”

“It’s just an experiment,” said Mildred, coolly, “just like your tests!”

“My tests!” He sounded angry. “Release this young girl immediately — my tests provide pleasure, not pain!”

“That’s why you’re here, Basil; you’re going to provide the pleasure!”

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