- by Mr. Bushida

Beth, in her smart tan suit, drove the two men into Paris, taking the Perriferique south to the Avenue Foch, around the Charles de Gaulle Etoile and finally to the Place Peri off the Boulevard Haussmann. It was a familiar drive and always a pleasant one for Joseph who had not yet grown blasé with his new surroundings. Mr. Bushida, however, was all business, clutching an expensive alligator briefcase that had seen too many years of service…

Beth stayed with the car as Joseph escorted Mr. Bushida down a small alley guarded by a tall gate for which both their keys were required. This was a seedy district of north Paris, which made it dangerous but allowed for such an institution to be built and to exist discreetly.

Thirty-five meters from the gate was a large oak door, which similarly required dual keys plus dual plastic card-swipes as well. The heavy door swung open effortlessly and they entered an oval marble foyer with a single, black-lacquered door at the apex. There was an unmistakable feeling of being observed.

It was hard to impress Joseph and Mr. Bushida with strange and luxurious places, yet there was a church-like sense of reverence in this lobby. Shortly, a very pretty lady entered the foyer, and directing her comments to Mr. Bushida, asked to be followed in perfect Japanese…

She escorted them into a small mahogany walled office, bid the old gentleman to take a seat, and offered the same to Joseph. "Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Damon," she offered in perfect English, even with a slight American accent…

Just then they were joined by Madame Brosius, a stunning thirty-year old woman of some sort of European heritage but impossible to place due to her seemingly universal accent. She was all business and barely looked at the contents of the briefcase other than to see that it was full. She placed it in a large safe in the wall…

. "Would you like a peek at my new shipment on the way out?" she concluded elegantly, and led them down a bright hallway and into a room, or rather, a little prison.

There were half a dozen naked young women of all nationalities, all hung from hooks from the ceiling by their wrists, their feet a foot off the floor. And they were all extremely…incredibly pretty.

"I’m quite impressed, Madame, and I don’t remember any of them from my last visit!"

"Well, Mr. Bushida, our stock never lasts very long as you know! And we can thank your WWW for coming up with those three plump, Polish sisters there… pretty noses and sweet little arseholes I think… I thought you would approve!"

"Approve indeed. But alas, we must be off. My host here has quite an offering at home as well, as I’m sure you are aware. But I would impose on you to take a few moments and show Mr. Damon some of the training facilities on our way out."

A little further down the corridor they came to a door marked "PONY STRENGTHENING AND REHAB FACILITY". Inside was a square swimming pool similar to ones used to exercise lame thoroughbred horses. There was a spacious holding pen to the rear of the bright white room with what looked like a half dozen naked slave mares milling about, their wrists manacled behind their backs. Madame Brosius spoke to a small dark man seated in the corner reading a newspaper.

"Monsieur Rogers, would you show my guests how we use the piscine?"

The gentleman of indeterminate age, virtually a dwarf, reluctantly stood up and entered the barred pen. Seemingly randomly, he grabbed a beautiful forty-five year-old Dutch mare, linked a long slender leash to her nose ring and roughly dragged her out and tossed her in the pool with a huge splash. Without the benefit of her arms, she kicked her legs wildly to stay afloat until the man had her treading water with just the slightest aid of being held up by the nose ring, which he had now looped over a pulley hanging over the pool.

"Wonderful for the calves, gentlemen," Madame beamed as they left the struggling woman and headed out of the building.

The usual clanking of her heavy tack seemed even more frantic on this frigid winter day as she worked to hold her ground while Joseph and Eli climbed on board and added their weight to the balancing problem.

With Eleanor at his side, Joseph rippled the reins hard as his Aunt Judy began to push off with her strong thighs to move the unbalanced sulky off the incline. Eli tried not to look but could not avert her eyes completely from the frightful sight of her stable-mate’s yawning backside, already dusted with frost.

But the first movement of the back-heavy rig was to roll half-a-wheels-worth backward. As Judith dug in her way too high heels, Joseph grabbed the whip from its sheaf and cracked it as hard as he could, and quite accurately, across her shoulders.

Eli shrieked in horror, just once, at Joseph’s brutality. ‘Surely most civilized people would not treat an animal so callously!’ she thought. But she stifled her sentiments and was thankful that her Master did not react to her insolent outburst as Judith managed to move the awful cart forward a few feet onto level ground…But Joseph Damon was not about to let the moment go… "Judith! Do you think I should have spared the whip on you, as obviously Miss Kolton believes!" he screamed.

The poor soul knew that her compliance with this young sadist’s demands to answer properly was to betray her friend and comrade. But his power to terrorize was irresistible.

"Oh, no, Master Joseph…" she fumbled, tears forming quickly in her eyes. "I deserve to be whipped."

Eleanor was sobbing into her hands, feeling guilty for having brought this sickening scene on Judith with her wanton scream. Her sense of naïve decency had betrayed a fellow slave-mare…and it was not the first time. And Joseph rarely failed to seize the moment.

Joseph summarily tossed his aunt’s head aside and stepped beside her proffered bottom. He ran his hand over the obscene, glassy expanse of wet woman flesh.

"Judy…I am going to spank you…not to punish you but to punish your friend here who seems to know better than you when you deserve or don’t deserve the whip!"

He placed his open hand on the top of her buttocks, highlighting… demonstrating for Eli’s wretched sake how small his hand was in comparison to the task at hand.

"Now look right here, Eleanor! If I wish to spank this big ass properly…say one hundred strokes, how many separate targets do you think I would require to do a thorough job?"

And he slid his hand to a new area, and then another.

"Oh…Master… please…it’s m… my fault…please sp… spank me…"she pleaded through her blubbering.

"I just might spank you both! Imagine ladies your age being spanked like babies out here in the open where I imagine the sound of it goes right over that stone wall for all those snooping Frenchmen to hear! But I suspect any such observers would envy my task!

But for now, I think spanking Aunt Judy is exactly what you, my sweet school teacher, need!"

Joseph began an extraordinarily severe spanking of his aunt’s backside…he paused just long enough to rub his hot hand over Judy’s cold and wet face for relief before returning to ‘finished her up’. It was the most painful spanking she could remember, and amongst the most capricious and humiliating….

Once safely in the stables, Joseph lovingly cradled his wounded ex-school teacher in his arms and laid her on her back on the washing-table. Judy was already present, and carefully tended to the wound, washing and bandaging her ankle. A doctor would be needed later on to apply a splint and proper cast.