Authors
note: This is a stand-alone Tuttle story as none of the main characters have
appeared in other stories. Those who are
interested in what happens upstairs in a bordello will be disappointed. All of the “action” in this story happens
down below - in the bordello basement. Next, I seriously doubt anyone will
complain that the discipline dispensed in this story is too mild. Given the
scenario, I believe I have achieved the right balance between severity and what
“working girls” can expect.
Just Another Day at
the Tuttle Bordello
by Tiredny
Rain was finally easing up allowing for much better
visibility on the winding country road.
Ruth Ann was already nervous and wasn't sure what she'd say to Bessie,
but rain and the worn out wipers on her old car made her all the more anxious.
She has asked for an extended lunch break, and her boss at the diner was most accommodating.
Business was always slow on Mondays and he told her to take her time and not
worry.
Even so, she worried. Her diner paycheck barely covered
living expenses for her and her five‑year‑old, but her
mother's medical bills pushed her finances well beyond the breaking point. She
needed her hefty income from Bessie's — needed it badly — just to stay afloat.
Bessie's “establishment”
was the only “house of adult entertainment” in Tuttle. While to all appearances Bessie ran the
place, the real owner was Mario Benedict. He made certain there was absolutely
no competition and he further had judges and police on his payroll. Indeed, these people were some of Bessie's
best customers. As long as nothing
appeared in newspapers, Bessie's business would yield considerable profits for
years to come.
Key to
long term success was keeping a low profile and that meant keeping Bessie's
establishment out of the newspapers. To
that end, Mr. Benedict added newspaper people to his payroll, but even more
importantly, he demanded a high level of discipline at Bessie's. Insuring things ran smoothly, he assigned one
of his top men, Guido, to oversee security and discipline. It looked to everyone that Guido was an
employee of Bessie, but Bessie and Guido knew who really pulled the strings.
Ruth Ann's problem was she failed to show up at all on Saturday, after lambasting a “client” on Friday night. In all fairness, the client was clearly obnoxious and overbearing, but Ruth Ann had handled far worse customers. Real problem was with Ruth Ann. On Friday, things were really hectic at the diner, her daughter was misbehaving and her mother's health took a turn for the worse. She took all of that stress out on the client, who probably deserved it, but still - this is something you simply cannot have in an institution like this.
Ruth Ann's
only hope was to grovel at Bessie's feet and beg her for forgiveness. This was NOT going to be a comfortable
conversation, but still, there was no other option. All during the drive, she
was going over in her mind how she would start the discussion. When she finally arrived at Bessie's, rain
had completely stopped, but it was still overcast - a bad omen. As she entered the parlor, which was
fortunately empty except for Bessie sitting at her huge desk, she headed
straight for the “seat of power”. Before
she could say a word, Bessie asked, “What are you doing here? You no longer work for me.”
She could
forget about her rehearsed opening lines.
It was time to grovel. “Please,
Bessie, I know I screwed up. I had a bad week; I promise you it will never
happen again. I'll work extra hard this Friday and Saturday... if you'll only
give me a chance.”
“Look, I
run a highly disciplined house here. We
cannot have that type of behavior. We've
had issues with you in the past, so your assurances of improved behavior mean
little to me.”
“I know,
I know,” answered Ruth Ann. Deep down
she knew where this was heading and very reluctantly offered, “Well, umm... I
mean... umm, perhaps a visit to basement might convince you of my sincerity?”
Bessie
looked her in the eye and replied, “Are you sure, you want to do this?”
Ruth Ann
knew that what she had suggested mean a sound spanking from Guido, but what
choice did she have? Her answer reflected her desperation: “Of course, I don't
WANT a trip to the basement, but if it will put me in your good graces... then
YES!”
“In that case, you can attend the tomorrow's 9 am session. Given your past history, I'm instructing Guido that you require twenty swats.”
“Twenty!! That's way too many. Ten is more than enough and still hurts like
holy hell!”
With that
Bessie open a drawer and pulled out a large back book. She opened the book and
searched through several pages before she countered, “It says here you got ten
swats on your last visit! If we're going
to instill discipline in you, more swats are necessary this time. OK, OK... twenty might be a bit harsh, so
instead we'll make it fifteen?!”
Ruth Ann
was shocked. She knew Bessie was
organized, but never dreamt she kept records of the punishments dispensed in
the basement. Always the negotiator,
Ruth Ann spit on her hand, offered to Bessie, and said, “An even dozen then!”
Bessie
spit on her hand, shook with Ruth Ann and replied, “An even dozen it is, even
though you really should get at least a baker's dozen. Further, since you are
in the Tuesday rather than the Thursday session, your welts should be reduced
in both size and color for your clients on Friday. So, I'm looking forward to
decent bit of revenue this weekend.”
“Absolutely!! Actually, it's not a problem with my
clients. I know that when I show them my
welts and explain that I got it for bad behavior, I get much better tips. Even stranger, my clients, upon seeing recent
welts, finish much faster! This actually
allows me to handle more clients on a given night.”
“Really!!” answered Bessie. Now it was Bessie, who was shocked. In thinking out loud, she mumbled, “I know a few girls who could really use a means to get a higher client throughput. Hmmm... I'll have to give this some thought. In the meantime, Guido will tend to you tomorrow along with a few others.”
~00O00~
It's
clearly obvious that spankings in the basement are a frequent occurrence at
Bessie's. Discipline must be maintained
at all times and the girls working for Bessie frequently suffer from a lack of
self-discipline. This is typical of all
working houses. Bessie's is no different
from the others. What is different is the spankings dispensed at Bessie's are
never gratuitous and are always earned.
In many houses petty jealousies and personality clashes, will cause
working girls to get spanked, but NOT... at Bessie's. Until now, that is, only
poor behavior will trigger punishment.
After
hearing Ruth Ann's comments though, Bessie is thinking that poor performance
might be good reason to send girls to the basement. If swollen and bright red welts stimulate
clients, this could mean higher throughput and correspondingly, higher
profits. Girls, on the other hand, might
not see it that way. Before doing
anything, Bessie would have to talk this over with Mr. Benedict and get his
approval on any policy changes. A
failure to so might mean a trip to the basement for Bessie!
~00O00~
Ruth Ann
was not exactly happy at the outcome of her discussion with Bessie, but pleased
that she would be able to keep her position.
This outcome was not totally unexpected, and in truth, it was far better
than losing that income. This “truth”
she kept reminding herself about as she was again driving to Bessie's for her 9
am “appointment”. Bessie had mentioned
there would be others with her and she wondered how many. She never liked getting spanked if front of
others, primarily because she was such a baby about it. To her the embarrassment of screaming and
crying was almost as bad as the pain.
Soon, she
pulled in to the parking lot which was empty and that to her was a good sign.
She parked on the side where there was a separate entrance to the
basement. Upon entering, she noticed one
of her coworkers sitting on the bench adjacent to the locked room, shoes and
socks off naturally.
“Oh hi,
Billy Jean. I see you are also here for
the festivities,” remarked Ruth Ann.
“Yes,
indeed! I wouldn't miss it for the
world,” relied Billie Jean. Billie Jean
was close in age to Ruth Ann's 28 years and very similar in body size and
shape. They weren't exactly good friends,
but were always on cordial speaking terms.
They respected each other and both had worked at Bessie's for the past
four years.
“I hope
we are the only two, Billie Jean. I really don't like putting on a show.”
“Me
either, Ruth Ann, but I'm pretty sure Bunny will be joining us.”
“Bunny!! How dumb is that girl? Does she ever go a
week without getting her behind whipped?” asked Ruth Ann as she was removing her shoes
and socks. (Shoe and sock removal by
girls down for a spanking was a change instituted by Guido. Nobody ever knew why. He once muttered something about “flying
shoes hurt”, but that's all anyone could recall.)
“Speaking
of strap, have you noticed how much Guido's hurts?”
“Of
course, I have,” answered Ruth Ann, “to me, it looks identical to the one used
on the
“Exactly! Although, I never served on the Tuttle Farm,
I did nine months on a farm two counties over.
I got caught freelancing. I
leaned from that to work only in houses and you won't have problems.”
“Funny
you say that,” said Ruth Ann, “because I learned that the HARD way as
well. I got caught and spent six months
on the Tuttle County Farm. That's where
I first experienced the strap and I'll never, ever, EVER forget it.”
~00O00~
Ruth Ann's
first “experience” was certainly memorable.
Immediately after arriving at the Tuttle Farm, the twelve new inmates
were subjected to a cursory strip search.
(How much contraband could they have after spending several weeks in the
local jails?) From there, since they were already naked, they went immediately
into the showers.
Ruth Ann
remembered the showers. They were hot, clean and totally wonderful after 18
days in the city jail with no facilities whatsoever. Even the towels were fluffy, large and
clean. After drying off, they were told
to wrap the towels around their waists and were given pajama tops to put on
that were clean, warm, but an ugly olive drab color. In groups of four, they were marched down the
hall to a room marked: PR-3. Over the
room's doors there was a red light brightly lit.
Ruth Ann
asked the girl next to her, “Do you know what happens here?”
“Yes,
this is punishment room number three and we're here to get our introductory
five swats with the strap.”
“WHAT???!!! You're joking.... right?”
“I'm NOT
kidding, it's not too bad, and five swats is the minimum. Listen to me! No matter how much it hurts,
you leave your behind in position to receive your swats. Move an inch, and you'll get ten swats or
even more...”
Before
that neighbor could finish the light turned green and the doors automatically
opened. In they marched to find four inmates with noses to the wall, hands on
their heads and towels draped over their shoulders, but this isn't what
attracted their attention. All four were
crying or sniffling and their bottoms were bright red with clearly delineated
strap marks. Actually, for 3 of the 4 you could count the individual marks, but
on the forth, there were far too many to count, the marks overlapped, and the
inmate was crying profusely.
“Discipline
is the key a better life upon leaving Tuttle Work Farm. Most of you lack
discipline and that's why you are here,” announced a rather large CO. She continued, “One of these four inmates,
chose NOT to exercise discipline, and you can see the results. DO NOT BE LIKE
HER! OK, I'm taking these four to get their clothing. CO Frida will take charge
of this group.”
Once the
four re-wrapped their towels and left, CO Frida moved up front and addressed
the group:
“Inmates,
please move up to the table. Take off your towels and spread out in front of
you. I'm going to give each of you five
hard swats with our prison strap. Your
job is to accept these swats in a disciplined manner. You lie over the table putting your elbows
and hands down on your towels to support you.
You will remain in this position until you are told to stand up. If you
move at any time, we start the 5 swats from the beginning and add 5 penalty
swats.
The swats
will hurt; they are meant to. You may yell,
cry, scream, as loud as you want, but watch your language and never disrespect
a CO. For future reference, five swats
is considered rather mild and rarely will you get only five swats for an
infraction here. OK, let's get in position so we can move on to get your
clothing.”
Immediately,
the four inmates got into position on their towels over the huge, heavy
table. Ruth Ann was third in line and
could see the CO Frida deliver the first stroke. She was amazed at how far back
the CO took the strap and how hard she swung it into the waiting bottom. CCRRACKKKK!!!! It sounded like a gunshot it was so
powerful. Surprisingly, the inmate said nothing, but both her eyes and mouth
were wide open. That changed quickly on
the next stroke for she yelled out: “YYOOOWWWEEEEEIII!!! OH please it hurts!!”
Next
three swats were similar only difference was the increased volume of the inmate's
cries.
Next
inmate in line took her five swats with only minor complaints. Clearly, she had been strapped before.
Then, it was
Ruth Ann's turn and she was really tense.
No, way she wanted to move and earn penalty swats, but she had never
been strapped before. Yes, she had been
paddled numerous times at Tuttle High and some of those were bare bottom, hard
paddlings. And yes, the paddle was solid
and heavy, but..., but this strap looked fearsome! All of her inclinations
proved correct on her very first swat.
SSMMACKKKKKK!!!!
“YYYOOOUUUUUUUEEEEII!! NOT so hard! GAWD IT HURTS!!” screamed
Ruth Ann, but she
remained bent over in position for another stroke. Her bottom cheeks were set
quivering and felt like they had been branded. This was far worse than any
paddling she had ever received. But then
again, this was NOT school! This was the
Each of the next four swats hurt just as much. In
fact, they hurt more! As her bottom
became more sensitive the swats hurt more, even though CO Frida lashed them in
with consistent force.
Ruth Ann did not move out of position, and to
this day, she has no idea how she managed to hold on. The only explanation she
could think of was that she was paralyzed with fear. She never forgot her first
encounter with the prison strap, and during her six‑month stay she endured others—many far more severe. Yet something
about that first experience fixed every little detail permanently in her
memory.
~00O00~
“Billie Jean, there's no question that working in houses keeps us clear of legal trouble and prison time, but it comes with a price — the punishments imposed by the house itself. Namely, the spankings we're getting today!”
“True enough, but what we get today is still
nothing compared to the punishments handed out in prison. Bessie's is just like
every other house I've worked in. Let's be honest—working girls can be tough to
keep in line, and without discipline, everything would fall apart. At Bessie's, you don't get sent to
the basement for nothing — you have to earn it. I remember working in
one house where punishment sessions were daily affairs. At lease at Bessie's,
there are only two punishment sessions a week - Tuesday and Thursday. And as for Bunny, I can't
understand her either. I mean, she only
gets sent down for stupid stuff - never anything serious. She just can't control her mouth...”
Before
Billie Jean was able to finish, the door opens and in walks Bunny dressed in a
slightly-faded, old-fashioned, striped, prison uniform.
“Now,
where did you get that outfit?” asked Ruth Ann wondering if Bunny is making a
fashion statement, a protest about getting spanked, or... just being a herself
- a dumb Bunny.
“Yessss!
I got two of them dirt cheap at the Army Navy Surplus Store. One is with black stripes and the other is
with green stripes. Cool, aren't they??”
asked Bunny. Before they could answer,
Bunny continued, “My customers just loovvve them! Ya know, I've always worn matching top and
bottoms, but wouldn't it be even cooler if I wore the black stripe top with the
green stripe bottom?”
Billie
Jean couldn't resist, “Hey! I got an idea!
Don't put your pants back on and you can leave here with a black stripe
top and a red striped bottom.”
“Funny Ha Ha.
At least I'm only getting four strokes today from Guido,” sneered Bunny
as she sat on the bench and began taking her shoes and socks off.
“Speaking
of Guido, where is he? He's late!”
observed Ruth Ann
“Oh, I
spoke with Bessie and she said he'd be a few minutes late as he was doing
some... I don't know - something about a “collection job” for the boss?! Wait a minute... what am I saying. I thought Bessie was the boss?” stated
a now puzzled Bunny
~00O00~
Guido's
appointment as “cooler” at the house came as a complete surprise to
Bessie. Mario Benedict was asked to do a
“favor” by the underboss of the Bonanno family.
Apparently, there was some “unfortunate, collateral damage” that “occurred”
while Guido was carrying out family business.
It was so bad, that both the Lucchese and the Genovese families had
contracts out on Guido. If there was
only one contract, a negotiated settlement would always be a possibility, but with
two... well, there was just no hope.
Further complicating things is Guido could not go back the old country
as he had problems there as well.
Guido was
considered a valuable, loyal member of the Bonanno family and they needed to
find a “safe” home for him. Mario was asked directly if he could do this “favor”,
that would be most appreciated, for the family.
Last thing in the world Mario Benedict needed was a loud, skinny,
trigger happy, Sicilian running around in Tuttle. On the other hand, it was never healthy
refusing a “favor” asked by a family that had hundreds and hundreds of soldiers
on the payroll.
Mario agreed
to find a “low profile” home for Guido for as long as he needed. While anticipating headaches galore, this
turned out to be the complete opposite.
Guido was a well-dressed, quiet, soft spoken, polite, very large,
well-muscled man. His bent nose and
multiple scars made it clear he'd survived numerous fights. Upon encountering Guido, everyone immediately
took him seriously. Mario had no idea if
“Guido” was his first name, last name or a nickname, but there was no way in
hell, he'd be asking.
Providing
Guido with very nice accommodations and assigning him the “cooler” job at
Bessie's proved to be a masterstroke. He'd spent a decade working with houses
in
Guido
showed soon enough that he was no amateur. Bessie's initial hesitation gave way
to a growing dependence on Guido. Vendors who attempted to exploit the house
were swiftly replaced or brought in line. Patrons who drank too heavily were
discreetly removed and, when necessary, driven home — Guido recognized the
value of preventing rumors from reaching the press. And, just like in
~00O00~
As if on
cue, Guido walked in with a few sheets in hand. He unlocked the door to the DR
(from the beginning Bessie referred to this as her “Discipline Room”) and
opened with his usual bluntness: “Bessie is the boss and runs this place.
According to her notes, three of you are up for discipline today. I do not know
what you did and I don't care. Your
punishment has been ordered by Bessie, NOT me.
You've all been here before, so let's get moving. Bunny, you are up first.” Guido then replaced
the towels on the barrel with fresh ones and threw the dirty ones into the
laundry hamper. He next lit a cigar.
All three
moved into the room at a cautious pace, each one jolted by the cold cement
floor under their bare feet. (Chill of the cement on their bare feet spelled
things out plainly —
they were
here to be punished. Anyone who wished to
quit should do so NOW, before things proceeded. Guido had learned this bare foot tactic from one of
While
Ruth Ann and Billie Jean grabbed a seat on a bench against the wall, Bunny
removed both her black stripped pants and underwear. Once the field of action was ready, Bunny
dutifully climbed up onto the barrel and grabbed the handles. This was identical to the position assumed
each and every day by misbehaving inmates on the Tuttle County Farm. Not that
Bunny had ever experienced the punishment protocols of the farm having never
been an inmate herself. Nevertheless,
she'd heard countless stories from other working girls on actual punishments
they received while “guests” of that institution.
With
Bunny in place, Guido walked strap in hand over to the barrel and draped the
strap across Bunny's bare hind end. He then took a small Velcro strap and
wrapped around Bunny's ankles. All that
remained was to attach a rubber cord to the Velcro. Purpose of this arrangement
was to keep Bunny's feet together once the strap started doing its work. It
also allowed some moment of her legs, but not so much that her feet could come
between the strap and her backside.
Watching
this preparation, Ruth Ann came to the realization that once in position, all they could do
is to take their wallops, and scream and howl as their hindquarters were set
ablaze. No, different really than when she was on the farm, except that here...
she had the option to quit!
'Two weeks ago, Bunny was down here!' thought Guido. 'This strap really isn't
working for her! Growing up in Tuttle,
she's been strapped at home, in school, at the police station and even at
church! It's time to try something different - maybe a paddle. I'll talk this
over with Bessie.'
Nonetheless,
Guido grabbed the strap, raised it high over his head and slammed it into Bunny's
behind with a perfect stroke. That is, a stroke designed to land on both cheeks
simultaneously. By timing it perfectly,
the stroke resulted in a loud:
CCRRACKKK!!
And the
shock waves echoed around the room.
Nothing could have prepared Bunny for the almost
immediate jolt of pain. The pain was
explosive and it felt like that one smack had set her entire bottom on fire.
She could not believe how much it hurt. Her bottom was round and firm,
the skin smooth and lily white, but no longer. Now there was a red band
squarely across the middle and fattest part.
In spite of being sent down frequently, this first blow was like an
electric shock. Bunny expected a hot, stinging line of fire, but instead, her
whole backside seemed suddenly to have exploded in pain. So great was her
shock, that no sound escaped her lips.
Perfect
again was the second stroke delivered by Guido about an inch higher on her
backside.
WWHHACKKK!!!
“YEEEOUCH!!”
yelled Bunny as both lips and jaw unclenched.
Guido then headed to smoke his cigar. Upon seeing this, Bunny yelled out, “NOOO,
finish me off! I only have two left to
go!”
He turned about; then went to opposite side of
the barrel and delivered the last two.
First of these was an inch below the initial stroke and last an inch
lower still.
Bunny yelled out at both, but only released the
handle after the last swat had landed.
Ruth Ann turned to Billie Jean and asked, “Why do
we take this?”
Billie Jean, somewhat philosophically, answered, “Decent
paying jobs for us Tuttle women are real hard to come by, so what choice do we
really have? We take our spankings and then adjust our behavior and attitude to
avoid any more.”
Bunny's correction now over, she got down from
the barrel and vigorously began rubbing her sore hind end. Since she had taken only four swats, each of
the resulting red bands showed clearly on her backside. Once Ruth Ann saw her
behind she though, 'Wow! Billie Jean
was right! If Bunny were to leave like this and she'd really have a black
striped top with a red striped bottom!'
Bunny soon dressed and left. Guido then turned to
Billie Jean and informed her she was next.
Her first reaction was a startled, 'Why am I
next?' But she quickly decided that arguing would only drag things out.
Better to get the whole disgusting episode over with, she thought, than to
watch Ruth Ann suffer through hers while fear for her own punishment gnawed at
her. So barefoot she walked over to the barrel, reached up under her thin,
print sundress and removed her yellow panties.
Once she was in position, Guido put down his cigar
and walked over to the bench. It had
been a while since Billie Jean had been sent down, so unlike Bunny, Guido
believed the strap “worked” well with her.
He draped the strap across her bare behind while he place the Velcro
strap around her ankles and attached that rubber cord allowing some, but not
excessive movement.
“Billie Jean, it says here that you have been
awarded 8 swats. Is that your
understanding?” Guido asked seeking confirmation.
“Yes, unfortunately that's correct, but please...
not too hard!” responded a somewhat nervous Billie Jean.
Picking up the strap he glanced at her backside
and saw a mature female bottom with sufficient real estate to place the eight
swats with a minimum of overlap. Since Billie Jean was a full time employee,
there was no point in creating large blisters or welts that could impact her
schedule.
“Alright,” Guido remarked looking at both women, “You've
both been here before so you know the rules about holding the handles.”
All Ruth Ann could think was: 'Eight
swats! I wonder what she did.'
Asking a girl about her infraction or her
punishment award was something you simply did not do. It was understood that if the girl wanted you
to know... SHE WOULD TELL YOU. Ruth Ann
learned this rule while on the farm as well as the rule for holding the
handles. Letting go before your
punishment was complete was again something you did not do! Doing so, only earned a repeat of the last
set of strokes. You had to offer your backside free and clear to take your
punishment. On the farm they called it “Self-Discipline”.
Guido took the strap and once again, landed a
perfect stroke. WWHHACKKK!!!
Not only is the sound much louder, but both
cheeks are immediately set in motion.
Billie Jean raised her head up, but said nothing.
Next stroke was just as hard and was placed
adjacent without overlapping. CCRRAAACKKKK!!!!
Billie Jean hissed through her teeth, but that
was all. Ruth Ann was not surprise, as
she expected a veteran like Billie Jean would take her strapping well - that
is, much better than Bunny.
Two more strokes were delivered and then Guido
headed for his cigar. He sat and smoked
for five minutes giving Billie Jean a chance to catch her breath. It was his normal routine to create a break
halfway. Some girls would object as they
would rather get it over with. If they
did, he'd return and dispense the balance of their strokes.
Which he shortly did with Billie Jean after a few
more puffs. These last four were more
difficult for Billie Jean and she yelled out during the last three. Upon conclusion, Billie Jean climbed down and
began rubbing just as Bunny. She stood
still, however, NOT jumping and hopping about like Bunny.
Shortly, she grabbed her panties and was on her
way, but not before wishing Ruth Ann good luck with hers.
Ruth Ann removed her panties and began walking to
the barrel without needing to be told. Strange thoughts occurred to her on the
way: 'It's a distinctly different feeling to not have my underwear in place
beneath my dress and just as bad, the awful feeling of the cold cement floor
under my bare feet. It's truly
humbling. It all confirms that I am here
for one thing and one thing only - to be punished.'
When she was on the bench, Guido approached and
as his practice, freed his hands by draping the strap on her bare
backside. While he was completing the
preparation, Ruth Ann's mind was still working: 'What a horrible feeling to
be bottom up, bare, with the strap draped across it just waiting for my
strapping to begin. What's worse, this strap, even at rest, feels heavy.'
Everything ready, Guido took aim at Ruth Ann's
bare rump. Hers was also a mature bottom, but her cheeks jutted out more than
Billie Jean's. He then lashed down the
first swat. SSMMAACCKK!!!
No, stranger to the strap, Ruth Ann expected a
line of fire across her behind, but the fireball of intense pain caught her by
surprise. The strap was brutal.
Naturally, she felt the usual agonizing sting on the skin's surface, but there
was also a deep, throbbing ache that went far deeper and it was similar to the
pain caused by the heavy prison paddle.
Unable to control her reactions, Ruth Ann yelled
out: “YYYYOOOOOWWWWWWWW!”
On the
next five strokes, however, Ruth Ann was able to suppress any vocal response
even though the intensity of pain kept increasing.
At halfway, Guido took his cigar break which was
most appreciated by Ruth Ann. With the
pain growing, there was no way she could continue to remain silent. This break
would give her a chance to recover somewhat.
That's not all it did, unfortunately.
These five minutes gave her welts a chance to rise causing her bottom to
be a lot more sensitive. Remaining swats
were really going to hurt. Howling and
kicking would start for real after the break.
During this break, to ease the pain she was wiggling and bucking like a swimming mermaid, but the genius in this arrangement was that her whipped bottom never moved from the perfect position nor could her legs ever block access to the strap's punishment target.
Break over, Guido returned to the barrel
switching sides making sure the whole of her rump got the full punitive benefit
of this strapping. He knew that these girls all learned the hard way and one
strapping was insufficient to curb their ways.
They would be back, but he wanted them to dread with their entire soul
any return to the DR.
Very first swat WWWHHACKKK!! got a
response from Ruth Ann: “OOOOAAAAAAUUUU!!”
On every remaining swat, Ruth Ann screamed and
begged until her voice was hoarse with wailing and her tears had left a
noticeable puddle on the barrel. Really hard part in all of this is holding onto
the handles even though your backside is screaming for attention, but... she
managed
These visits to the DR were effective as girls
coming off the barrel vowed they'd never, ever return and would change their
behaviors and attitudes to ensure it. Yet, most of them did eventually
returned. It was simply the nature of the business — and the nature of the
girls themselves.
Unable to keep track of the count, on the very
last swat Ruth Ann cried out: “OH God
it HURTS! Please Guido, no more. I've
been punished enough!” She bucked
her feet upon and down pulling against the bungee, but nothing she did could
make the burn go away. Tears were streaming from her eyes. She had no dignity left; no sense of pride.
All she wanted was for the strapping to end.
And it was over!
She grabbed her panties and left, but not without thanking Guido first.
Immediately after she thought: 'Why in hell am I thanking him???'
On the drive home, Ruth Ann's mind was running
even faster than her old car. She knew
the strapping, given on that barrel, was a punishment intended to change their
attitudes and behaviors, and she further knew that it “worked” given the
intensity of the pain. Worked for a time
anyhow; until the pain and humiliation was forgotten.
As awful as it had been, Ruth Ann knew it could have been worse. She could have gotten the full twenty swats that
Bessie wanted! Even so, she had plenty
of welts, bruises and blisters. This
happens when you get so many swats.
There is just no way Guido could prevent them from overlapping.
Ruth Ann, never one to overlook an opportunity, was already working out how her condition might earn her a bit of extra cash. She'd tell her clients that she'd been a “very naughty girl” and got a good spanking. She'd then offer to show them the war wounds on her behind. This always works! Not only would she receive generous tips, but clients would finish more quickly, allowing her time to handle a full lineup. If she committed to this plan, Sunday’s payout would be nothing short of exceptional for both her... and Bessie!
That was the thing about Bessie. Bessie was many things, but above all she was
honest. Every penny of tips went to the
girls. And in Ruth Ann's case, this money was very badly needed.
~00O00~
Well, there you
have it - another day in the Tuttle bordello. Will anything change? Most likely
very little. Ruth Ann will be back for certain.
The stress of raising her child, her mother's illness, rude/slightly
drunk patrons, and so little money meant she would “explode” again. Bunny will
clearly be back again, but next time she might be paddled.
And
Guido? Well, he is alive - something he
knows would NOT be the case had he remained in
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