Lessons at the Pillory
Lillian learns a different lesson watching the public spanking
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Lillian tugged on Arthur’s arm.
“I don’t really want to see the public spanking,” she said.
However, he ignored her. With her arm hooked in his, he led her toward the pillory in the town square. The device was used for public punishment. It had a wooden frame with holes for offenders to insert their head and hands. As they stood, restrained and bent at the waist, they would be verbally harassed, and, likely, physically punished.
“Who is she?” Lillian asked, as a young woman was led down the street. Mr. Hallert, the town administrator, was leading the way. He held the punishment paddle high in the air as though it was a flag.
“She’s one of the painted ladies working in the Red Velvet Saloon,” Arthur answered.
Lillian knew little about the saloon. Mostly, she knew her father had insisted she stay clear of the place. He had paddled her behind when he had caught her looking through the swinging doors. The fact he had been inside the forbidden establishment seemed to matter naught.
“What did she do?”
“A cowboy caught her taking money from his pockets after they…”
“After they what?”
“Well, you know. After they did what the painted ladies do in the Red Velvet.”
Lillian had no idea what the painted ladies did, but the punishment show was starting. She let the matter drop for the time being.
Mr. Hallert positioned the young woman in the pillory. Bent at the waist, her head and hands were pinned in the notches cut in the wooden beams. She had already begun to cry and beg for mercy.
Mr. Hallert turned to the assembled population of the town.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began as if he were the ringleader of a circus, “each of you know the importance of honesty. We have an honest town here. Everyone can trust everyone else. On any given day, you can leave your money or other belongings sitting on the street and know they will be untouched when you return. We go to church, we honor the Pioneers, and we don’t steal.”
He waited for the murmur of the people to quiet.
“Peaches has violated that trust, and she will receive a just punishment. This public demonstration serves as a reminder to all; honesty is essential.”
With a flourish, he whipped up Peaches’ skirt. With a yank, he pulled down her bloomers. Upon the sight of the woman’s bare bottom, Lillian decided she had seen enough.
“Come on,” she said, pulling on Arthur’s arm. “While everyone is distracted, you can take me behind the barn and kiss me.” As badly as Arthur might have wanted to watch Peaches’ spanking, Lillian knew her offer would be adequate inducement.
The couple backed away from the crowd. Arthur opened the gate to the stable, and the horses whinnied as their domain was invaded. Arthur took Lillian through the back gate to the hay stacks. Gently laying her down on a soft pile of hay, he kissed her.
This was not the first time Lillian had let Arthur kiss her, but he was the only young man she had given her favors. She lay on her back. He lay beside her, leaning over her body. She freely gave him possession of her lips, and she allowed him to rest his hand on her belly. They kissed, took a breath, and kissed again. She did nothing as she felt his hand inch up her torso. She was not wearing a corset, and her nipples stiffened under the thin fabric of her chemise as his hand got closer to her breasts. She wondered how close she dared let him get to actually touching them.
Lillian broke the kiss.
“Arthur, what exactly do the painted ladies do in the Red Velvet?”
“You know,” he whined, and tried to recapture her mouth.
She pushed him back. “No, I don’t.”
Lillian wasn’t completely stupid. She grew up on a ranch and knew exactly how the horses and cows made colts and calves. However, she didn’t know exactly how these actions pertained to humans. While she was over eighteen and technically an adult, unmarried women were not supposed to know how these things were done. She had overheard her mother talking with other married women. They laughed and whispered about cocks and what great pleasures their husbands gave them. Thus, Lillian was certain that, whatever it was, it must be fun. And, somehow, the painted ladies were allowed to shortcut the marriage requirements.
Lillian took Arthur’s hand and placed it squarely on her budding breast. Through the thin fabric of her blouse and chemise, her nipple pressed into his palm.
“I’m leaving for nursing school soon,” she said. “They will certainly teach such things, but I don’t want to be the only woman in the class who doesn’t already know something about it.” She drew a breath. “At least the basics.”
“Oh, I’ll teach you the basics, all right, and then some,” Arthur whispered in her ear.
Fumbling with the buttons on her blouse, he undid them one at a time. Pulling it from her shoulders, slipping her arms out of the sleeves, her only remaining clothing above the waist was her chemise.
Should she dare remove it? Or, dare to allow him to remove the last covering over her breasts?
Responding to the desire she saw in his golden eyes, Lillian made a decision. She sat up and pulled the garment over her head. Now, she was topless. She supposed she should feel some embarrassment or shame, but she felt neither. Instead, a feeling of exhilaration came over her. She felt free.
Arthur caressed her breasts, and cupped them with his palms. “Beautiful,” he murmured. Having been given free access, he lowered his head to her bosoms, and buried his face between her mounds. He pressed them tight against his cheeks, rubbing them against the stubble of his beard.
She giggled, “Ooh, that tickles.”
“Want me to stop?”
“No,” she whispered.
His hands were calloused from the ranch work he did, but they were also warm and gentle. He wrapped them around her left breast and, shaping it with his hands, brought it to his face. Her nipple reflexively swelled, and he took it in his mouth, laving it with his tongue.
Between her thighs, a heated, quivering sensation began to make itself known. Lillian didn’t know what it was, but she liked the feeling. Instinctively, she bent her legs at the knees and lifted her skirt and petticoat.
“Ah, what is it you want now, lass?”
“I… oh…” Lillian did not know what it was she wanted. She certainly could not find the words to express her desire.
But, Arthur seemed to know. He inserted his fingers into the waistband of her bloomers, and pulled them down to her knees. Lillian’s body shivered as the cool air reached her moist mons.
Again, he asked, “Want me to stop?”
Lillian shook her head. “No.”
He kissed her tenderly as he slid his fingers up her thigh.
She arched her back, and moaned, “Higher.”
He slipped his fingers to her puffy mons and caressed her swollen, moist pussy lips. His fingertips pushed back the delicate folds encasing her clit. Lillian gasped as Arthur flicked the tip of her sensitive, tingling nub. She stiffened as his finger slid along her slit to her womanly entrance. A groan escaped her lips as he gently eased his finger inside.
“Relax, my darling.”
She did as he asked, and concentrated on the feeling from the digit inside her. As Arthur gently caressed her inner space, the sensation overwhelmed her. Lillian’s engorged clit tingled.
The smell and sound of her arousal filled the air, and her wetness made Arthur’s finger slick. He slid a second finger inside her pussy, to join the first; then both fingers curled to press on a certain spot behind her clit. His fingertips applied a light pressure, which caused the spongy tissue to swell.
Suddenly she was swept away as her pussy convulsed. Contractions pulsed through her body, and she could focus on nothing else.
After several minutes, she opened her eyes to look up at Arthur. He was licking his fingers. She felt a sudden emptiness, realizing those instruments of pleasure had been removed from her body.
Arthur grinned at her, and winked. “Now you’ll have something to tell your classmates about.” He opened the buttons of his trousers, releasing his engorged cock. “Now, it’s your turn.” He placed her hand on the purplish tip of his member.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed my story. Take a few minutes and read The Girl in the Attic, Stepsister Taboo, and Daddy’s New Sub.
Also, consider my short stories and books published on Amazon. Additionally, I write under the name Sterling Scott.
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Copyright ©2023 by Mark S. R. Sterling All Rights Reserved
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