Belle Submission Read online

  ‘Well,’ she drawled, in her lilting Southern accent, ‘I guess there’s not much I can say to dent my learned friend’s reasoning. Might as well just hang my client out to dry and have done with it. Pity. Those dreadful vices she spoke of, and to which my client is surely going to confess, are abominations all right.’

  She scratched her stockings again and then her fingernails brushed on the swollen folds of her wet cunt itself, where her clitty was visible, erect, moist and stiff.

  ‘My, it’s hot in here, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘You folks from the Orleans territory don’t know really hot. Makes a girl itchy. Makes her do all kinds of things she doesn’t mean. Why, darn it, look what I’ve gone and done!’

  Her finger poked through a hole in her stocking at the thigh.

  ‘And that was just from innocent scratching in this infernal heat. Of course, in court, everything is sub specie modestiae, which means I can do anything I want, with courtroom privilege, and my stockings are my own furbishment, bought from Beauregard’s haberdashers in Biloxi, but had I innocently scratched myself, in this heat, a foot beyond that door there, ladies and gentlemen —’ she pointed dramatically ‘— should I hang for it? Hmm. You might think panties are a different matter, but don’t you all sometimes get an itch down there — I mean way inside? And you just have to scratch way inside? Now a submissive belle, a good Southern lady, like my client, must never ever scratch her butt, because that is what uncouth, tobacco-chewing men do — but she still got to scratch that itch, way inside — and what better, what more ladylike way of solving the problem, than to use a thing like this?’

  She picked up the dildo, squatted, as Heidi had done, and placed its gnarled tip firmly on her anus bud. She began to tickle her pucker, which dilated and opened. Parting her buttocks with splayed fingers, she drove the dildo an inch into her butthole and began to waggle it.

  ‘Ahh… that’s better. But don’t forget, I still have my panties on, for a Southern belle never removes her panties, and that pesky itch is still there, way inside, and making me madder than a possum in a beehive. So…’

  There was a gasp as Alice pushed the shaft right to the hilt, a good eight inches of it penetrating her anus, and began to thrust vigorously in and out.

  ‘See?’ she gasped. ‘That’s a real good way to get rid of that itch. But itches are pesky critters, and they can spread just any old place. So, while I’m having an innocent and decorous scratch, with my panties on, I get an itch here in front, and have to put on a pair of my best cotton gloves to get rid of it with another innocent scratch.’

  Alice spun, showing the audience her spread cunt, with her fingers rubbing her clitoris, and copious come seeping down the insides of her thighs into her stocking-tops. She continued to frot herself for a minute, until she snapped her thighs shut with a squelch of cunt-juice and stood.

  ‘No masturbation and none of this here buggery — which plain folks like you and me know as cornholing, and there are those that say no Southern lady should be ignorant of what’s done in every cotton field twixt here and Natchez! I just know my client’s confession will reveal the truth of what I’ve said,’ she added, with an encouraging smile at Emily, while Heidi glowered, her arms folded. ‘But I don’t rest my case, for there’s the accusation of treason. My learned friend didn’t make much of that, did she? Wants to hang an innocent girl on trumped-up charges of this here masturbation, while the more serious charge slips by.’

  She opened her thighs an inch and let a forefinger play on her cunt, the fingernail slipping inside the moist fat slit, then slicing her erect clitoris.

  ‘Now, it’s no secret that my client recently served time in the Stella Maris therapeutic institute. Dare say some of you visitors are familiar with it. Get all kinds in there, aside you good tourist folk… unlawful migrants from New Albion, female or male, even spies. Place is a hotbed of intrigue. My learned friend is going to accuse my client of passing secrets to the enemy, I don’t doubt. But how does a hard-working scholar get to know state secrets, unless she has them from a higher authority?’

  Two fingers penetrated her oily quim, with a thumb jabbing the swollen nubbin. Come dripped copiously down her quivering thighs and into her stocking-tops.

  ‘And why should she give them away, unless she was ordered to for reasons of state? My learned friend knows full well, for citizen Heidi Absorb is directress of the Stella Maris. She corrupted my client, a simple everyday miscreant serving hard time and taking her reasonable whippings like a good citizen, promising her a lighter sentence if… uh…’

  Alice pumped her pulsing gash with three rigid fingers, penetrating the hole right to the knuckle, while her thumb pounded and squashed the erect, come-shiny clitoris. Her thighs parted wide and she hooked a foot over the guardrail, with her exposed spread quim inches from the gawping faces of the front row of spectators. Come flowed, gleaming wetly on her bare thighs; her soaked stocking-tops slithered as her hand slapped and stove her cunt, awash with come, and her thumbnail flicked the clitty in a staccato blur.

  ‘If… yeah… if she’d pass secrets to the enemy! Yeah!’

  Come spurted from her cunt down her thighs.

  ‘Yee-haw!’ said several spectators.

  ‘Objection!’ cried Heidi, springing to her feet.

  Trina looked at Zealla, who mouthed ‘overruled’.

  ‘Overruled,’ said Trina, thumping her gavel on the wood. ‘I think it is time to hear the maid’s confession.’

  Alice’s mouth hung slack and drooling as she slowly plopped her fingers from her clinging wet slit and waved them at the glowering Heidi.

  ‘Go on, maid, say your piece,’ said Trina.

  She watched Alice enfold herself in her gown, with just her stiff nipples peeping, and her breasts rising and falling with her hot breath. Trina shifted her buttocks, with moisture slimy between her stocking-tops.

  ‘It was like counsel said, mamselle,’ Emily quavered.

  ‘I’m guilty of all charges, even treason, but it was involuntary treason.’

  ‘The ripped stockings and panties, and the… the dildo, are related, so deal with them first,’ Trina snapped.

  ‘Pardon me, mamselle, but they are all related. I am the victim of a misunderstanding, I swear. It’s very hot at night in the Stella Maris, and I was scratching myself, for there is no fan in the prisoners’ dormitory. But I was careful not to rip my garments! They are the property of the public watch, you see, and I am still technically a watchmaid, though I was sentenced to a month in Stella Maris for another misunderstanding! Sergeant Makings assigned me to the vice squad, and I was undercover. I heard of a diddling ring — masturbatresses, mamselle — and I infiltrated it successfully. Of course, I had to go along with their diddling games until I caught the ringleaders, who were Devora Dykes and Julie Pageant, and I was just about to bust them — we were playing three-handed clitty rubbing, mamselle, when a troop of security corpsmaids arrived and arrested us all. Only Devora was let go, because she had snitched on us to the security corps! It was a bureaucratic foul-up and I sent a petition to the committee of public safety, copying Sergeant Makings and the then intendant, Mamselle Pure, but I don’t think they had time to read it. Because it was a corps arrest, I forfeited the right to trial on grounds of national security and got a month, arbitrary, in the brig — that’s the Stella Maris. With my career as a watchmaid in ruins!’

  Emily sobbed, and made as if to wipe her streaming eyes, but her bound wrists jerked against her yoke.

  ‘Who gave you the dildo?’ Trina said.

  ‘It was another slave, mamselle,’ Emily wailed. ‘I don’t know who, honest, because it was dark — I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t me who ripped my panties and stockings; it was her. She wanted to help me find my itch and before I could say no she was… she was diddling me, mamselle. She ripped off my panties and tore off my stockings and started to masturbate my clitoris. Then, when my pussy was all wet, she stuck the dildo inside me. First in my quim, th
en in my butthole. It was horrible — I was so raw, after my shift — four cocks in each hole, mamselle, and thirty canestrokes, separate delivery, in sets of ten, on each bare fesse — oh! She cornholed me with that dreadful thing for at least forty minutes, until I pissed myself twice, in agony.’

  ‘You didn’t resist?’ Trina barked, her thighs slithering together, as she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

  ‘I couldn’t, mamselle judge, the maid was sitting on my face.’

  ‘Bare-ass?’ Trina murmured.

  ‘Yes, mamselle.’

  ‘And how did you respond, prisoner?’

  ‘I was licking her pussy, mamselle. She made me suck her clitty, and swallow her come.’

  ‘Made you? You swallowed her come.’

  ‘Yes, mamselle.’

  ‘And did you come?’

  ‘Yes, mamselle,’ Emily sobbed. ‘I was scared. She threatened to get me assigned to the punishment battalion, leading the upcoming assault on New Albion. She said the first wave would surely be captured and tortured by the Anglos. She said any maid with sense would surrender to the Anglos, for the war fever was just a ruse to cover up the coming devaluation of the fessignat — too many maids were baring up for black market strokes, which devalued the currency. Lady Juliet Gorges had spies everywhere on New Arras, ordered to lash as many bares as possible, without payment at the official rate, and if we couldn’t beat her we should join her. She said the ringleader of the black market and Anglo spy, was…’

  Emily stopped her babble and paled as Zealla stared at her and emitted an audible hiss.

  ‘Was who?’ Trina said.

  ‘Oh! I don’t remember, mamselle.’

  ‘Citizen judge,’ cried Zealla, ‘as commander in chief of the general staff, I deem it a matter of national security that your interrogation be continued in private. May I respectfully suggest that the charges of lewdness and destruction of government property provide sufficient basis for sentence to be carried out. The slut is one of the vilest I have heard in any public court, and no crimson can be deep nor weals hard enough for her bare fesses.’

  Alice rose.

  ‘Hearsay, innuendo and oppression,’ she cried. ‘I move that all charges be thrown out.’

  Heidi leaped to her feet, smirking.

  ‘My learned friend forgets the state has a witness,’ she said. ‘I seek permission to call citizen, and security corps captain, Harriet Stooplaugh.’

  ‘That is in order,’ whispered Zealla.

  ‘Very well,’ Trina said.

  Harriet Stooplaugh entered the court, bare-breasted and wearing the white skirt and jackboots of a security corpsmaid. She took the witness stand, swore her oath on the copy of Mamselle Flageolet’s reglements and returned Trina’s gape of astonishment with a bland smile, wriggling slightly so that her naked titties swayed and the pert, erect nips winked at Trina, who swallowed as moisture trickled from her quim into her stockings. Questioned by Heidi, Harriet said she was an undercover security corpsmaid, under discreet attachment to the public watch, and sometimes posing as a slave in the Stella Maris to elicit information from tourists who had recently visited New Albion, and to sniff out revolt amongst the slave maids. Trina demanded if discreet attachment meant spying, and Harriet agreed that it did; pressed, admitted that her role as Trina’s secretary was also discreet attachment. Trina wished to know if Alice, as head of the public watch, and Dorita of the security corps, had knowledge of such things. Both girls shrugged.

  ‘It may go on, mamselle,’ said Dorita, ‘but only as a result of mistakes in paperwork, by inept clerical staff.’

  Alice agreed.

  ‘I am more interested in the damaged panties,’ she said.

  ‘Cawdor should not have been wearing those panties,’ Harriet said, ‘but should have turned them in to the ordnance store. However, since they had entered slave premises, they were technically slave panties, whatever their provenance, and their destruction is sabotage.’

  ‘Did you cause that destruction, Harriet?’ Trina stammered. ‘Did you masturbate her?’

  ‘Yes, citizen judge, but only when she begged me to. The dildo was hers; the first rips in the garments were hers. She complained the customers weren’t rough enough for her taste. She wanted me to spank her, slap her around.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes, mamselle, I did, for raison d’état I spanked her bare for about thirty minutes, and her titties about the same, while I had my quim on her mouth, and she was sucking my clitty. She twisted round so that I could slap her ass. While I spanked her, she orgasmed twice, and she told me the stud Duane Carvalho on New Albion was twice as virile as Elvis Lesieur, and that’s why she was scheming with tourists, to get her out, so she could defect and satisfy her perverted craving for anal sex. She was planning to bring Lady Juliet the secret of sweet gum in return for Duane’s services, as he is known to be the depraved Lady Juliet’s favourite stud.’

  ‘Did you enjoy her sucking your clitoris?’ Trina said.

  ‘Why, no, mamselle,’ replied Harriet. ‘It was all in the line of duty.’

  Emily wailed and burst into fresh tears.

  ‘Yours is the only clitoris I’ve ever enoyed sucking, mamselle,’ Harriet murmured.

  ‘Yee-haw!’

  The audience clapped and cheered.

  ‘It’s all lies!’ shrieked Emily. ‘She made me spank her and thrash her on bare, first with a whipple, then a studded belt that she said was Duane Carvalho’s, and she had it from the Albion spy, Duane’s buttfuck partner, Mamselle Zealla Pure.’

  There was uproar; Zealla alone remained calm.

  ‘Of course, if the slut’s outburst has any truth, it merely shows what an excellent agente provocateuse the corps Captain Stooplaugh is,’ she said smoothly. ‘Intelligence work is subtle — it surely helps national security for the Anglos to believe I am Duane Carvalho’s mistress, while that gentleman thinks I am Mr Lesieur’s.’

  She turned to smile winningly at Trina.

  ‘I must confess, I have never enjoyed the pleasure of that gentleman’s cock,’ she said, ‘although our agents on New Albion have let the lustful pervert understand that my anus is longing for it. Now, mamselle intendant, there are other cases to consider — if you care to pass sentence on the felon who has pleaded guilty?’

  Trina called counsel to the bench and expressed her dissatisfaction with the proceedings, and that rumours of war peddled by some kind of dirty tricks department were kept from the public and, not least, herself. Harriet sat in the witness box, smiling at the audience and juggling each bare breast up and down while pinching her nipples.

  Trina called her to order.

  ‘Pertinent chastisement is the least you can expect when I get you alone. You’ll be screaming, mamselle, as I whip your bare ass raw,’ she hissed, and Harriet bowed her head.

  ‘We’ll shine the treason thing, if you’ll go for the lewdness and disorderly ya-de-da,’ Heidi said to Alice.

  ‘That’s enough to give these rednecks their show.’

  ‘Works for me,’ Alice replied. ‘If you’d care to pronounce sentence, mamselle judge?’

  ‘Just a minute —’

  ‘I suggest page seventeen of the reglements, mamselle,’ Zealla said.

  ‘Please, mamselle judge,’ cried Emily Cawdor, straining at her noose, and her breasts bobbing, their nipples erect and goose-bumped. ‘To delay my chastisement would be cruel and inhuman.’

  The audience buzzed agreement.

  ‘The slut is juicing for it right now,’ said Harriet. ‘I can see a trickle of come on her thigh.’

  Numbly, Trina turned her book to page seventeen. Zealla leaned across her, brushing her breasts over Trina’s eyes, and fingered the passage. Trina read.

  ‘Emily Cawdor, you have been found guilty as charged, and must suffer exemplary correction of one hundred strokes of the cane on the naked buttocks, while strapped in restraint on a public flogging bench; followed by peine forte et dure, on full bare
skin, at court’s discretion.’

  She looked up to see Blush Coynte’s bare teats bobbing as she stripped off her custodian’s uniform.

  ‘Yee-haw!’ shouted the rednecks.

  ‘Blush is going to cane her here and now?’ Trina gasped.

  Nude, Blush handed the uniform to Trina, and curtsied.

  ‘No, mamselle judge, you are,’ Zealla answered.

  From the Journal of Mlle Augustine Flageolet, anno 1760 11 Arlette Dupuis pleasantly surprised me today. She fashioned a delightful rack of burnished teak, all by herself, being jealous of her creation. Of course, such egoism merited chastisement, so she was the first to offer her person on the device. She took her stretching very well — entirely naked — suffering both face down and face up. In the former position, I personally birched her twenty-five on the buttucks, and in the latter caned her twenty-five on the bare breasts, a refinement of discipline Capt Stouplois much admired. He complimented me on my flagellant prowess. It is so difficult to draw the fine line between ego and reason! In these tropics, I masturbate two or three times a day, and of course I encourage my girls to masturbate frequently, singly or in groups, but always rationally and in a social manner. Baring the buttocks for anal penetration is similarly governed by reason, and the rules of the virgins of Ishtar — modesty, obedience to the male, and without vainglory. Yet reason is abandoned when these healthy pursuits become lustful and driven by sensation. Arlette taunted me that I dared not bare myself in worship of Ishtar or, more properly, in obedience to the male force I admired so much. I caned her a further fifty strokes on the bare nates, bent over a ship’s mast, for that insolence. Nevertheless, it stung.

  12

  Peine Forte et Dure

  It was the reglement that pertinent chastisement was carried out on the spot by the sentencing judge. The fucking reglements, Trina cursed, as she stripped — that too, was in the reglements — under the eyes of the court —drooling rednecks!— and donned Blush’s shorts, which were too tight at the crotch, hugging her ass-pears and vulva, and presenting her cunt-basin neatly wrapped.