Read Online Bondmaiden by B.A. Bradbury - Free Book Online Page B

though that was the reason he’d groped her. ‘What do you reckon, Dagna; the lash, drub or strap?’
    ‘The drub,’ Dagna said promptly. She went to the chest and extracted a wooden object not unlike the big flat spoon Berta used to squash fruit into pulp, except that this one had a hole the size of a plum right in the middle. She handed it to Holmann, who slapped it against his palm. It made a meaty smack, and Lia flinched at the sound.
    ‘Lay across my knees,’ he ordered, and Lia did so. He told her to put her palms flat on the floor and spread her legs. She shuffled her feet apart, expecting a hand to creep between her thighs, but it never did. There was a pause, his weight shifted, a stinging pain cracked across her bottom, and despite the fact that she’d known it was coming she still wasn’t ready for it, and her instinctive reaction was to yelp and try to get up.
    ‘Down!’ he growled. He struck her again, over and over, alternating between her left cheek and her right. It was hurting far more than she’d expected, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out again. For the sake of her dignity she tried to be brave and bear it in silence, though she guessed they wouldn’t be fooled. They must have done this countless times to lots of other girls, and would know exactly what she was feeling.
    It went on for a long time. Her bottom grew sorer by the minute, but still he continued to strike her, indifferent to her suffering. She writhed under the fierce assault, earning a stern warning to keep still, though that was easier said than done. She began to despair and wonder if it would ever end; but even as she thought it the beating stopped, and Holmann proceeded to stroke her sore flesh.
    ‘Pink,’ he said, somewhat breathlessly, ‘but not pink enough, I’m thinking. What do you say, Dagna?’
    ‘Nowhere near enough,’ the woman said scornfully. ‘These pig-girls are thick-skinned. If you want to be sure she’s feeling it you need to keep going until her arse is good and red.’
    He started to spank her again, left and right as before. It was worse than ever and soon all thoughts of staying silent were abandoned as first sobs then yelps were torn from her lips, her stoicism failing fast. Then just as she was growing desperate and thinking she could take no more, he stopped again and told her to stand up. She climbed stiffly to her feet, rubbing her poor tender behind, unable to look either of them in the face. The beating had made her see herself for what she was – a stupid country girl who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. A serf, who should have learned by now not to challenge her betters. A pig-girl, as Dagna was fond of reminding her.
    ‘I expect you’re wishing you’d kept silent now,’ Holmann gloated. ‘I said you’d be sorry, didn’t I? So tell me, have you learned your lesson?’
    Lia pouted and nodded ruefully. The punishment had done its job; there would be no more rebellion from her in future.
    ‘You certainly will before the night’s out,’ he said. ‘Do you know the best way to leave a lasting impression on a young woman?’
    ‘No master,’ she whispered, with a sudden cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.
    ‘Not many do. Some think a flogging will do it, using a lash with lead-tipped thongs to shred flesh. Others think a bullwhip is the answer, powerfully wielded so it cuts bone deep. All well and good, I say, if the idea is to maim the wretch. No, the key to success isn’t brute force, nor even a fearsome implement, but time. Time and a tireless arm, and that, young lady, is the way to leave a lasting impression.’
    Tears blurred Lia’s vision, for she knew he was explaining what they intended for her. The punishment wasn’t over at all.
    ‘When I was younger,’ Holmann went on, ‘I could manage a protracted punishment session and still have strength to lift a flagon of ale. But those days are gone, sadly, so it’s lucky Dagna is here to help out.’
    He