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Two wardresses now took Jacinda to the whipping bench. One pointed saying get on it or we will forcibly do it.Reluctantly Jacinda mounted the bench. Immediately one wardress affixed her neck head and wrists in the original stock like restraint at the head of the bench. The chin support kept her chin up and stopped Jacinda from dropping her head. The other wardress roughly pulled down her knickers, before tightening a large leather waist strap around and across her back. This forcing Jacindas bottom up. Now she turned to the woman with the strap .Saying how do you want the legs restrained back of knees to bench or ankles.I want her restrained at the ankles with legs spread as wide as possible. Replied the uniformed woman. Jacinda gasped as both the wardresses now forced her legs wide apart. Then restraining her ankles to a modification to bench for this purpose. Now she felt her bottom getting forced up under the rubber roll fitted to the bench as the wardress using a handle at the. Pissed at the interruption, she bolted upright in bed and slapped the clock. There was a knock at the door. Her mother’s voice said, “Wendy? Wendy? You up?” Drat and damn the interruptions! Wendy could feel herself sitting in a growing puddle of her own juices. “Yes, mom! What is it?” “Your dad and I are gonna need your help in the gardens this morning. Wear your grubbies. Breakfast in ten minutes.” Wendy grit her teeth in frustration. She needed to masturbate so fucking bad right now. But it would just have to wait. “Gorganzola!!” she yelled as she threw the bedclothes aside and leapt to the floor. Her father was adamant that there be no cursing in the house, and “gorgonzola” was as close as she could come without risking his umbrage. She stepped to her antique wardrobe and pulled out what she thought of as her “industrial strength undies” and a pair of well-worn jeans. She peeled out of her wet, sticky panties and buried them deep in her laundry hamper so the bedroom wouldn’t smell.
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