by Jon Thorn
It is ten days since the end of Whipping Girl. Poor Felicia has found it harder than me. She was so angry, so betrayed. She thought we would be going home to District Twelve but Miss Goldthorpe had other ideas. She kept her promise that we would be back together but neither Flis nor I imagined that we would still be here in the Capitol. Miss Goldthorpe's house is large and impressive. It occupies a location on a hillside looking over the city and the rooms are split over a number of levels. It's a beautiful house in a lovely spot but that has been little comfort to Flis. For the first few nights she came to my bed and I held her in my arms and stroked her hair, lulling her to sleep. She is sleeping in her own room now but still looks pale and distressed. The thought of being next year's Whipping Girl is preying on her mind despite it being a year away. She knows that running away would be utterly futile - where would we run to? So, like me, she has to get used to living here, in the house of our enemy. It is not uncomfortable; in fact we have every luxury including a gym and a swimming pool, but of course it isn't home.
Miss Goldthorpe hasn't touched either of us since the end of the show. She doesn't want to break us entirely - we would be no use and no fun. I am glad for Flis' sake but there is a growing need in me, a hunger that I can't ignore, I crave the pain and the excitement it brings.
It is bedtime and I have changed into the man's shirt that I always wear for bed. I am naked underneath. I turn out the light and lie there, my eyes closed. I try to relax but I cannot. I try to sleep but sleep does not come. When I close my eyes I am back in the arena, back being punished. The memories arouse me but they are not enough, they only emphasise my hunger. At last I can stand it no more. I hate myself for doing this but I can't stop myself. I open my bedroom door and pad down the thickly carpeted corridor and up into the heart of the house.
Miss Goldthorpe's study is on the top floor. It has huge windows that open out onto a balcony and give a perfect view of the city below. I knock on the door.
"Enter," she calls.
I fill a little frisson of mingled fear and excitement as I push open the door.
I am suddenly taken aback. She is not, as I had assumed, alone. Sitting across from her is Katarine - Katarine Hollister, the joint winner of Whipping Girl. I stare at her, my eyes wide. What is she doing here?
"Anastasia," Miss Goldthorpe says smoothly, "What can I do for you?"
"N...n...nothing," I stammer.
"Now, now don't be shy Anastasia," Miss Goldthorpe smiles, "Don't let Katarine put you off asking for what you need."
How does she know? Am I that easy to read or is it simply that this scene has been played out often enough over the last six months for her to be able to make a confident guess. There is no way out now. She won't let me just make an excuse and leave. I have to go through with what I originally intended.
"I... I can't sleep," I admit, "I need..." I can't say it. I blush.
"You need what Anastasia?" she asks with an arched eyebrow.
"I need..." I stop, unable to say it. I feel my face go ever redder.
"You need to be spanked," she completes the sentence for me. "Isn't that right Anastasia?"
I nod mutely.
"Ask politely Anastasia,"
I take a deep breath. This wouldn't be a problem without an audience.
"Please spank my bottom ma'am," I manage to say at last, although the words seem to want to stick in my throat.
"Come here."
I go over to her side. She is looking especially elegant; she has her hair up in a beautiful chignon and is wearing a diamond necklace and earrings. Her dress is navy blue silk, utterly simple and utterly lovely.
"Over my knee," she orders.
I lower myself over her lap. Her stockings are sheer, she is wearing patent leather high heels even here in her own home. Already the excitement is coursing through me and it goes up another notch as she bares my bottom. I am very aware of Katarine looking on.
I gasp as Miss Goldthorpe's hand cracks down on my bottom. She gives me six smacks with maximum force, making my bottom sting like mad, then having produced that sting goes on to maintain it with firm, regularly spaced slaps. It is what I crave; that deep, hot, smarting sensation which turns me on like nothing else can. I close my eyes and drown in the feeling. She keeps me over her knee for a good five minutes, holding me firmly with her other hand, not letting me rub myself against her thighs as I want to.
When she lets me up, I am flushed and aroused. I see Katarine looking at me with gentle amusement. There is no malice in her look, and, not for the first time, I wonder what she is thinking and who she really is.
"Thank you ma'am," I say.
She dismisses me with a curt wave of her hand. She doesn't delay me, she knows what I need to do.
Back in my room I slip off my shirt and lie down on the bed. I have a favourite cylindrical pillow that I slip down between my legs. I turn over onto my front, the pillow beneath me. I close my eyes and slowly start to rub myself back and forth. It feels so good. My bottom is hot and smarting and I am hugely aroused.
Even in the midst of it I hear the click as the bedroom door is open. I freeze and my eyes shoot open. There, framed in the doorway, is Katarine.
"Let me help you Ana," she says softly.
I watch as she closes the door and crosses the room. She reaches back to undo her dress. It slips from her shoulders. She is naked underneath. She kicks off her shoes and sits on the bed beside me. My heart is in my mouth and I shiver as she reaches out and strokes her fingers down the length of my back. She caresses my bottom. Her hand is cool on my hot skin. It feels good.
"Relax..," she says gently.
She continues to stroke my smarting bottom with one hand but then her other hand is on the inside of my thigh. I gasp as it travels higher and does not stop. Her forefinger finds my clit and she starts to rub.
"Good?" she asks.
"Yes," I murmur.
"It's nicer when someone does it for you," she says.
I have nothing to compare it with. There was a boy once but he didn't last long and he never got to touch me like this. I part my legs and gasp again as she slides two fingers inside. She leans forward and kisses the back of my neck and my earlobes, her breath hot on my skin.
"Turn over," she orders.
She takes her hand away and I turn onto my back. I see her face properly for the first time. She is flushed and excited too, her eyes wide and her lips moist. She kisses me, gentle soft kisses at first and then more urgently, open-mouthed, her tongue touching mine. Her hand moves down to touch my secret place again. She bends her head and kisses lower, first my breasts and then my flat stomach. Her lips move further down. She moves her hand and now her tongue is where her fingers had been playing. I cannot believe the sensations that are now surging through me. I writhe against the sheet, my sore bottom rubbing against the mattress, adding to my pleasure. The tip of her tongue flicks my clit with rapid darts like a cat at the cream. It is too much, I shudder and moan as I reach a glorious orgasm.
She holds me and strokes my hair.
"Thank you," I manage to say.
She smiles and hugs me tighter.
"My darling Ana," she says, "I've wanted you so much and for so long."
It is a complete surprise. I never realised she had any feelings for me. The tears well up in my eyes. It has been a long time since anyone, apart from Flis, has shown me love or even affection. Miss Goldthorpe is an expert in arousing me but I am just a plaything to her. I do not think she has any emotion apart from love for herself. Her coldness is brought into sharp relief by Katarine's warm tenderness.
"Who are you?" I breathe.
She smiles. "You'll find out soon enough," she says enigmatically. "But one thing I want you to know is that you are not alone; I am exactly like you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I discovered that my body responds to punishment just like yours does. I crave the sensation and it never fails to turn me on."
She has taken me by surprise again.
"How... I mean when...?" I have so many questions but she shakes her head.
"Not yet Ana, not now. It will all be revealed in due course but for now we must all be patient and wait. The end is coming and it will not be long before both you and Felicia will be free. But until then you must both be strong and brave."
"Can I do anything to help?"
She shakes her head, "No, the plans are made and it is already set in motion." She gives me a crooked smile, half-embarrassed. "There is something you can do for me though."
She slips off the bed and crosses to the door. Hanging there, always available, is a cane, a wooden paddle and a leather strap. She unhooks the strap and walks back to me, offering it on her upturned palms.
"Would you?" she asks softly, "I need it right now, just like you did earlier."
How can I deny her? I smile and stand, taking the strap from her.
She positions the pillows in the centre of the bed and stretches herself across them, her bottom in the air. In the soft moonlight from the window her skin is perfectly smooth, unmarked, unblemished.
I place the strap across the middle of her bottom. I lift my arm and then bring the strap down smartly across her cheeks. She gives a deep sigh. I do it again and again.
"Harder..." she says.
I put more force into the blow and she moans quietly.
"Harder..." she says again.
I do it as hard as I can, cracking the strap across Katarine's bottom using as much force as I can muster. She writhes over the pillows.
"Good..." she murmurs.
I give her another full-force stroke, and another. It is strange, I hated dishing out the punishment in the Pain Games, but this is different. This feels good and right, because she wants it. She takes three more before she says softly, "enough."
I drop the strap and come and kneel beside her on the bed. She doesn't need to tell me, I know what to do. It is my turn to caress and touch and kiss. She is shaking with arousal and her mouth is hungry on mine as she turns onto her back. Her nipples are rock hard as I run my tongue over them and when I go down between her legs she is very wet. I kiss the inside of her thighs and then run the tip of my tongue down her groove to find that little nub of flesh. It only takes one kiss down there before she comes, almost arching herself off the bed in her passion.
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