As a fetish idea, we know this notion has been floating around for at least thirty years, because there’s a version of it to be found in a 1994 edition of the faux-Victorian BDSM novel The Captive’s Journey by Richard Manton. In that book our hapless captive Caroline is delivered to a specialized gentleman’s club, where she’s emplaced in such a wall for an evening of unhappy treatment at the hands of the sadistic patrons, after first being allowed to witness another woman in that predicament:
We led Caroline down the backstairs to a special room in the cellar. When I opened the door, Caroline emitted an audible gasp.
The sight that greeted us as we entered the chamber, was of one of the attractive submissive girls tightly bound in a most ingenious manner. She was bent over at the waist with her belly resting on a padded punishment horse. Her ankles were secured to rings on the floor so that her shapely legs were pulled widely apart. Her body was facing the wall and her head and wrists had been secured to a special set of stocks built directly into the wall in such a way that those parts of her anatomy were completely hidden from view. Her ass, however, was prominently displayed and a special spotlight had been focused on her out-thrust buttocks.
It served to nicely illuminate the current condition of the poor girl’s ass.
Standing next to the girl, was a container filled with freshly cut willow switches and, judging from the condition of the girl’s exposed bottom, it was clear that the willow switches had been put to good use. Her ass was crisscrossed with angry red welts which entirely covered the area from the base of her spine to the girl’s knees.
The way in which she was tied also nicely displayed the woman’s cunt and asshole. It was obvious that these openings had recently, and repeatedly, been used by visitors to this chamber. Gism oozed from her bunghole and strings of it hung in ropey strands from the mouth of her cunt.
Any member of the club could visit the room at any time. In it, he would always find one of the submissive girls displayed in this manner. He was free to use her exposed bottom in any manner he wished: he could blister her exposed asschecks with a bare-bottomed spanking. He could thrash her naked buttocks with one of the handy willow switches to within an inch of her life. He could roger her pussy or bunghole with his cock to his lascivious heart’s content. And all of this would occur in complete anonymity….
Because of the way in which she was tied, the girl would never know who had used her in this way. She could only lay there, for as long as we wished, totally helpless and completely exposed, enduring whatever abuse the steady stream of anonymous visitors to the chamber chose to inflict upon her defenseless bottom.
Two of the attendants untied the lovely girl from her bonds and released the stocks so that she could remove her head and wrists. Still gagged, the exhausted girl was quite the worse for wear as a result of the day’s activities. Her lovely cheeks were streaked with tears and she was having trouble standing up. I could see in her eyes, however, a glimmer of profound relief that her unpleasant ordeal was, at least for this day, finally over.
For Caroline Martin, however, it was about to begin. She watched, her eyes wide with terror, as the naked girl was led from the room. Lucy then came to her and brought a large leather ball gag to Caroline’s tightly clenched lips. It took a vicious twist on one of the girl’s nipples to persuade her to open her mouth and allow the intruder in.
In short order, Caroline found herself bound in a position identical to the one the other girl had just occupied. She looked very alluring with her ass out-thrust in that inviting manner. I ran my hand down her exposed slit, fondling her lewdly for a moment to help her realize how totally helpless she now was.
My first appointment — a distinguished Member of Parliament with a taste for extreme flagellation — was due to arrive in a few minutes. I left Caroline alone in the chamber to await the arrival of her first visitor of the day.
Two hours later, I paid Caroline a visit to see how she was faring. I entered the small room off of the main chamber into which Caroline’s head and hands protruded. From the appearance of her face, the first two hours she had spent in the chamber had not been easy ones. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her brow knitted with pain.
There was a small peephole in the wall which permitted me to peer unseen into the adjoining chamber and see who was about to make use of my beautifully displayed victim. A distinguished looking older gentleman entered the room and boldly bent over Caroline’s exposed bottom. Caroline clenched her eyes shut in shame as she felt him gave her a deep and lingering kiss directly on the puckered mouth of her anus, his tongue snaking deep inside of her. He chuckled softly and then selected a supple willow switch from the nearby container. I could watch, although Caroline could not see, as he carefully tested the flexibility of his chosen implement, preparing to administer the first blow. It landed like a gunshot across her naked cheeks and her facial reaction and muffled scream of pain was enchanting.
Since my next appointment was not scheduled for another half hour, I stayed there and watched Caroline as she endured this gentleman’s enthusiastic attentions. Her face revealed each detail of what she was experiencing — the pain as the switch ripped repeatedly into her bottom cheeks — the shame as he worked his rigid member deep inside her rectum. Her tear filled eyes searched desperately into mine seeking mercy or attempting to comprehend my cruelty. I merely smiled at her.
My next appointment was due to arrive shortly, so I kissed her brow and departed.
When I returned a short while later, she was between visitors. I entered the main chamber to inspect Caroline’s pain-filled bottom. The evidence of the brutal treatment she had endured so far was clearly evident on the well-whipped globes of her ass. From a nearby shelf, I picked up a small jar and opened it. Dipping my fingers into it, I spread the contents of the jar over her abused bum. Under normal circumstances, the lightest touch of my hand on her battered bottom would have caused her a great deal of pain. The contents of the jar, however, only served to magnify that pain. Instead of providing comfort, however, the jar contained a specially formulated salve which would adhere to the girl’s bottom. The gooey mixture was heavily laced with salt which served to set every welt on her torture bottom ablaze with fiery agony. Through the wall, I could hear a muffled shriek and see her body stiffen with pain. I left her, for my my next appointment was due to arrive.
Late that evening, we untied the exhausted Caroline Martin and drove home. She was forced lie on her side on the back seat of the car during her ride home, so painful was the condition of her ass. She had done quite well that day but had paid a frightful price. Her knees were weak with exhaustion and her bottom was a tapestry of painful red welts. She would need a day so to recover, and so I escorted her to her chamber, assisted her into her bed, and, turning out the light, listened as she cried herself to sleep…