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Madeline	By : Eddie_Davidson Category: Comics > Misc - General > Misc - General Views: 965 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with george pichard or anyone related to the production or publishing of his novels. This is simply a fanfiction based on the comic Madoline. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Madeleine
Chapter One

Author’s Note: This story was originally written entirely in French. The modern translation to English has been modified from the original Victorian prose in Old French and some of the colloquialisms or references of the time.
"Merde!" my Grandmother shouted angrily. It was late, and I was eavesdropping from upstairs with my younger sister. I was in my nightshirt, and she was in her nightgown.
"Do you have any idea what time it is, Madeleine?" my Grandmother confronted my mother at the door.
"No, Fabienne, but I am sure you are going to tell me," My mother stood brazenly in the doorway. She smelled of cheap perfume, cigarettes, and brandy. Her long dark hair looked disheveled and out of place. Her makeup ran down her face to give the impression she had been crying, but she glared angrily at her mother-in-law. My mother was wearing a scandalously short chemise and holding a bottle of liquor in one hand.
"You have no decency or morality!" Fabienne stammered. My Grandmother was just starting to go grey. She had a dour expression, and her hair was kept up in an elaborate bun and twisted updo, which was the style of the time.
"Thank you for noticing Fabienne!" My mother pretended she had just been given a compliment of high regard. "I am a Libertine! The principles of pleasure and hedonism are a virtue! Your old world values do not interest me," she said dismissively.
I was just a teenage boy and had only a passing understanding of the Libertine movement. My Grandmother told me that it was a wicked movement full of sexual deviants and exhibitionists.
Just two days earlier, I walked in my mother, posing in the nude for our neighbor. A starving artist named Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. He was a short little man with bug eyes. He told me he was painting Neo-Impressionism. My mother stood fully proudly naked in the kitchen, holding a banana in the most obscene manner. Mother positioned it close to her cunny as if she would prefer to sit on it rather than peel and eat it.
My little sister Nanette giggled at her mother's nudity, but I was too much in awe to say anything. I had seen paintings in the nude, but it was the first time I had fully seen an adult woman's naked body. My mother's large tits wobbled obscenely like two melons hanging from her chest. She had voluptuous and curvy hips and a thick, hairy bush of pubic hair.
I've seen wet-nurses in public with their shawls down to expose their massive breasts. Their trade is feeding babies with their milk. They almost always have sizable bosoms. My mother's tits are what the French call “Plus gros sein”. Her bosoms were not quite large enough to be a wet nurse, but they were impressive pear shaped jugs that hung off her chest and swung whenever she moved without a bra or corset.
I've seen prostitutes working the docks that were scantily clad. I glanced at a woman bending over once and saw her butt crack beneath her skirt. She squatted in an alley and pissed in broad daylight. She looked right at me, and I dared not watch. My Grandmother gave me 10 lashes when I got home for embarrassing her when she saw that I had stared at the woman. "You must not look upon fallen women such as that! They will tease and tempt you into a life of debauchery!" she warned me. She said that if I were truly virtuous, I would have known to look away.
My mother's nudity left nothing to my imagination except what was between her dark butt cheeks and the dark mound of pubic hair between her legs. I made drawings of what I thought it looked like and showed Nanette the next day. Nannette promptly showed them to my Grandmother, and I received another 20 lashes.
My Grandmother showed my sketches to my mother. She barely glanced at them and tossed them to the side. “I admit it is a passable likeness but my Lèvres de la vulve and not quite that wide, Guillaume. You drew my pussy like a split fig. I do like how you drew my breasts – so round and full,” she chuckled.
“Are you not ashamed that your son illustrated your genitals?
"The boy is creative and curious! Maybe he wants to be an artist like Monsieur Toulouse-Lautrec!" my mother defended me and laughed.
"Your sinful posing placed carnal thoughts in Guillaume's head. What if he tries to convince some young girl to show him what really is between a woman's legs?" my Grandmother chided her.
"Then maybe he'll know what to do with them when he finally grows up," My mom laughed and pointed out her husband could have used a similar education at my age.
I was eavesdropping on their argument then as well. I spent most of the time at home like a flea on the wall, observing but never speaking. If I had been permitted to speak, I would have said that I was too shy to ask a girl my age to teach the mysteries of the female body.
"You are hopeless, Madeleine! Posing in your own home for an artist is scandalous! What will the neighbors think?" Fabienne demanded.
"I don't know," my mother laughed and suggested she invite them over next time to ask them.
My mother insisted she posed for artistic reasons, but my Grandmother was convinced it was for money and a sexual liaison with the artist – it probably was.
"What should I do? Robert's salary is a pittance. We can't afford a fart on buttered toast on what Robert earns, mother dear!" My mother shrieked at her. We relied heavily on Fabienne’s income from her deceased husband’s pension as well.
They frequently butted heads and often about the idea that my mother made no secret of her infidelity. I had no way to know that the tonight in the doorway was the final time my mother would ever openly defy her mother-in-law.
"I am not Robert! You cannot talk to me this way! Why don't you go tell a bedtime story to Robert and tuck him for me?" My mother yelled and added a string of obscenities. "Tell him that I lost my panties at the fancy ball tonight, and I expect a Prince to try a golden pair on me in the morning," she chuckled.
"I told Robert you were a hussy! You have no shame," my Grandmother said.
"You are just now figuring that out? I took you to be stupid, but I didn't realize you were truly this slow!" my mother chuckled sarcastically and took a swig of the liquor. She tried to push past my Grandmother to come upstairs.
Fabienne laid hands on my mother and held her in the door. "Harlot! I could denounce you to the authorities for your immoral behavior!" she said. "I can send word to the prefecture tomorrow!" my Grandmother threatened to call the police. She did this often enough and never followed up on her threats.
The year was 1893, and we lived in the 15th arrondissement of Marseille in Paris on the left bank of the Seine. At the time, we called it Vaugirard. There were laws against prostitution, but the docks were filled with women in much less than my mother wore walking openly during both day and night amongst the throng of dockworkers and citizens going about their day jobs.
It was considered highly scandalous for married women to engage in adultery or prostitution. There were women's houses of corrections maintained by the church that was maintained strictly for sexually deviant women who shamed their families and low-born criminals who were too blatant and corrupted for even the streets of Paris.
"Go on and call them. I might want to suck their cocks in the morning because your son's flaccid penis doesn't get hard any longer," My mother said angrily.
I looked at my little sister Nannette. She giggled and smiled. We had heard my mother complain that our father was impotent many times.
"Do you really blame Robert? He would rather fornicate with a sodden mule than place his penis anywhere near your dirty holes!" My Grandmother insisted angrily. She could be just as vulgar in her speech as my mother. Fabienne usually limited her vulgarity when we were around, but they didn't know we were peeping upstairs.
"A mule? Now that would be a cock worthy of riding! Perhaps I will join him," My mother said brazenly. She was slurring her words drunkenly, but she seemed passionate about what she was suggesting. I could not imagine a woman having sex with a beast.
"Madeleine! You are wicked and sinful! Yet another crime you have admitted! You will answer to the magistrate for bestiality as well," Fabienne accused my mother of the crime. “If the Magistrate will do nothing then the insane asylum for women whose desires are unnatural and perverse! They will indulge you of your wicked desires! If only to cure you of wanting them in the future.”
"If only I had a hard Donkey's cock to fall asleep too! It would be a pleasure to commit such a crime of nature," my mother laughed and put her hands on her hips. She brushed past her mother-in-law and started to stalk upstairs.”The asylum, the convent, the prison, the streets – it is too many to choose from. They all sound exciting,” My mother was clearly not taking Fabienne’s threats seriously.
"I am not joking this time! You should be publically flogged and dragged down Quai Andre' Citroen naked so that you can be spit upon by even the whores working the streets for your flagrant disregard for decency!" My Grandmother was spitting vitriol and preaching fire and brimstone. I imagined my mother being dragged naked through the busiest street in our district along the river. It would be humiliating to any decent person.
My mother turned around and folded her arms. She didn't look frightened at all. Indeed, my Grandmother had made these threats many times before.
"That sounds like fun! I like it rough. Do you think you can arrange to have them pull my hair and slap my tits? Perhaps drop me off in an alley for an hour for a little wine and cock before we finish the entire procession around Paris?" my mother dared Fabienne to follow through on her threat.
I had heard of indecent women being paraded through France in the nude. Their hair was usually cut short, and they may be permitted a simple chemise. They were whipped all the way to the house of corrections. I had never seen such a spectacle myself.
"The way you show off your bare ass! I should give you a proper correction myself! I would do a far better job of punishing your arrogance and deviance than the House of Corrections ever could," Fabienne challenged my mother.
They saw us peeping in the hallway as they walked upstairs. My Grandmother shooed us to our room. We scurried away to hide. "You should not be watching this Guillaume. See to your little sister, and I'll be in to tuck you in later," Fabienne offered to me coldly. She was never extremely warm towards me.
"I thought the entire town should see my flagrant disregard for decency?" my mother laughed at my Aunt. She lifted her skirt and showed her plump buttocks to her. Stuck out her butt cheeks as if to dare my Aunt to give her a spanking.
Fabienne was the only person in the house to ever strap my buttocks or give me discipline. It was not a pleasant feeling, but my mother acted like she would have delighted if her mother-in-law gave her a proper strapping. It was an act of total defiance.
"You fail to discipline your miscreant son, and you flaunt your naked bosom and buttocks around the house. Is it any wonder Guillaume doesn't know how to properly address his betters?" my Grandmother said.
My name is Guillaume, and today she made me pull down my pants and accept 10 lashes from the leather strap for not addressing her properly. I was being playful and addressed her as Grand-Mere. She expects me to address her as Madame Fabienne. She says she is too young to be a grandmother. My little sister gets away with calling her that all the time. Fabienne favors her and thinks Nannette can do no wrong.
"You claim I fail to pleasure my husband, and now you say I fail to strap my son?" I could hear my mother shouting in her bedroom.
"What is this?" my father awoke angrily from his slumber. We did not need to listen at the door. The walls of our apartments were quite thin.
"Let me show you! Give me your cock, Robert!" my mother insisted. I could not see what happened, but I assumed from Fabienne's shocked response that she grabbed my father's cock and pulled it out in front of her.
"Put that away!" Fabienne insisted my mother stop.
"What would you have me do then, Mother?" my mom demanded of Fabienne.
"Do not call me that! We are family through marriage, but you will address me as Madame Fabienne!" my Grandmother insisted.
"Madame Fabienne, if you don't want to observe how I pleasure my husband, then shall I strap my son to appeal to your need for discipline and order?" My mom casually offered to come, give me a whipping without knowing what I had done wrong. "If that is how you get your kicks, then name it! Whatever it will take to satisfy you so that I can get a proper nights rest. I have a lot of drinking to do tomorrow!"
My mother treated Fabienne like she was a trifle. It made me feel quite insignificant when she offered to beat me in order to make Fabienne go away.
My blonde little sister giggled in my general direction and pulled the cover over her face. She would have delighted in my getting another spanking on my bare buttocks. She always giggled when I did.
"No, the matter has long since been dealt with while you were out fornicating in a drunken revelry! I was here doing your motherly duties!" Fabienne insisted. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, then perhaps you will also do my wifely duties for me and suck on this wet fish of a cock and wake my old foozler of a husband?" my mother demanded. I couldn't see what was happening, but I assumed she once again grabbed my father's cock and showed it to Fabienne.
"Mon Dieu, You little bitch! Robert works hard to put food on your table and a roof over your head. Une Putain! I have reached my limit with you! You will regret making a mockery of me!" Fabienne raised her voice angrily, and I heard some thrashing about.
"That is funny, Madame Fabienne," my mother didn't sound concerned by the threat. "The only regret that I have is marrying this Bedswerver! We haven't a pot to piss in here," she said.
We lived quite modestly in a cramped apartment. My sister and I shared a small room upstairs, and it was frequently drafty. It was better than many had in Paris at the time, or so I was told.
"Everything is funny to you! Life is a joke. You won't be laughing when I kick you out with nothing but the rags on your back. You can swing your fustilarious ass begging or prostituting yourself. You'll eventually get arrested even if Robert does not denounce you for adultery!" Fabienne had reached her limit of threats. She said she meant it.
"Then it is decided already! What choice do I have? I will finally be free of you and this stunted stump of a cock!" my mother didn't believe for one second that Fabienne meant to kick her out.
"You are thinking nothing of your son and daughter? They would be raised without a mother! Even a harlot such as yourself would be better than the shame of being raised motherless! "Fabienne tried to provoke my mother by questioning her decision to abandon us.
I didn't cry to think of my mother leaving us. I had heard my Grandmother make this threat before, and I would not waste tears on it. In the morning, I predicted the two would be surly with one another. My mother will awake from her hangover and go out again. The two of them would repeat this entire argument tomorrow night as they often did.
"What choice have you given me? I am packing my bags! Do you see, Fabienne? You want me out on the street. I can earn more in one night opening my legs than Robert can bring home in an entire paycheck!" My mother said. I heard the sound of drawers being dumped over.
"You shall take what is on your back and nothing more!" Fabienne insisted.
"Fine! This dress belongs to you as well, here take it. I shall start out naked in the morning! You have given me no choice! I shall leave this Garden of Eden with nothing just as Eve did in your precious Bible," Madeleine said.
"Don't quote the Bible to me, you scurrilous heretic! You will learn the scriptures under the whip at the House of Corrections when they are drilled into you by zealous nuns! Then I will come visit you and watch you recite them with the proper respect in your tone!" Fabienne exclaimed.
"Oh? That sounds quite exciting! Whips and chains? Where do I report! I shall make my way there immediately. The torture sounds far more tolerable than another day here with your preaching," my mother spat on my Grandmother.
"You spit upon me!" Fabienne was shocked that my mother would dare do that.
"Did you enjoy it?" my mother laughed. I could hear my father groaning and complaining about needing to sleep because he had to work in the morning, but the two of them ignored him. Fabienne had tried to wake him and make him chastise his wife, but my father hated confrontations like this. He let the two strong-willed women fight it out.
I heard scuffling and the sound of a broken vase. I imagined that my mother was putting up quite a fight, but I heard both of them moan and cry out from the pain. My mother was younger, but her wits were dulled by drink and absinthe. "My hair!" Madelaine cried.
I heard the door to my Parent's bedroom slam, and my mother cried out. Fabienne rolled her down the stairs and pummeled her.
My little sister crept to the door to watch the altercation. "No, Nannette! We mustn't!" I warned her from the safety of my bed. My precocious little sister ignored my warning and opened the door to watch the knock-down-drag-out fight. I had never seen the two of them go this far before.
I crept to the door in time to see my mother stripped completely naked. She had bruises on her breasts and face. I wasn't sure if the red marks were caused by Fabienne or her lovers before the altercation.
My Grandmother's nightdress was torn. One of her breasts was exposed. She was still a comely woman in her late fifties. Fabienne's hair was down, and she looked worn out, but she clearly had the upper hand.
She bound my mother's wrists behind her with twine and forced her to stop struggling.
"Do it then! Throw me out in the street like this!" Madeleine demanded my Grandmother send her out in the Paris night bound and naked.
"I should!" Fabienne demanded.
"What other choice is there? You have made the threat so many times it no longer has meaning! If I am so intolerable, then cast me out of my own home! Away from my husband and children! Away from your scurrilous rantings about decency and morality!" My mother struggled against her bindings. Her tits bounced, and her plump ass cheeks jiggled, but she could not free herself.
"What choice?" Fabienne pushed my mother to the floor, face down. "The choice is simple! I could leave you bound and beat a re-education into you!" she said.
"Re-education? You think you could do better than the Abbess of Madelonnettes Convent?" my mother told me once she been educated there when she was a young girl. She never told me why she didn't become a practicing Nun.
"Yes, I shall teach you the grace of humility! Grace applies itself to punishment. It resists sensuality and needs to be subdued. Grace wants to be dominated and has no desire to enjoy its own freedom. It likes being restrained by disciplined!"
"You speak like the virgin whores who punish young girls for daring to touch themselves in times of private contemplation!" my mother grunted angrily.
"Did they teach you the words of 1 Peter 2 13? Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every human authority: whether to the emperor, as the supreme authority, or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right. For it is God's will that by doing good, you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish people," Fabienne pushed my mother's head down and made her drag her nipples across our rugs.
My mother struggled to get up by Fabienne, held her face on the floor, and made her worm her way forward. My Grandmother struggled to bind my mother to a chair. Her wrists were tied behind the back of the chair in a most uncomfortable way. My mother's ankles were bound to the wooden chair legs.
"It matters not what choice you give me! I will either find my salvation at the convent or by your hand! Let me be, Fabienne, and in the morning I won't thrash you for this indignity," My mother glared at Fabienne.
"In the morning, I will call the prefecture! They will send men to escort you to the nearest Magistrate to decide your fate! I will add to it the charges of adultery and assault. Look at this mess you made! You have torn my dress and broken my favorite washbasin!" Fabienne said as she adjusted her left boob and tucked it back in her torn blouse.
My mother's breasts were fully exposed, though. Her legs were splayed wide while she was forced to sit on the chair. I had never seen the pink sliver between her legs even when she posed immodestly for the artist when he visited. I found myself deeply aroused as I was just entering puberty. Nannette giggled and touched her own flat chest through her nightgown. The material of her nightgown was sheer and see-through, just as my nightshirt was. We were children, and very little thought was given to our modesty. I was told there were rustic children who wore nothing at all to sleep and that I should be thankful for the simple chemise that covered my growing body.
There was nothing for me to see on Nanette anyway. Her chest was as flat as my own.
"No, please! I acted foolishly! Please have mercy!" My mother's tits jiggled as she worked against the bindings forcing her into the vulgar and exposed position sitting on the chair.
"You ask for mercy? It is a mercy to re-educate you and put your soul back on the path of salvation. Nothing is more sweet to your arrogant and presumptuous soul driven to revolt and lust than obedience through humility. You ask for mercy, but what you really want is my apathy to permit you to remain as you are. You have opposed me at every turn and selfishly refused my advice. I have no choice but to constrain you until the morning! Then you will pay for your crimes!" Fabienne was quite serious.
Nannette still looked amused. We didn't believe that our Grandmother would send our mother to jail. My mother didn't either.
"What about my re-education?" My mother leered at Fabienne. "I am tied up and helpless. I cannot escape! Are you going to beat me? When do we start?" she joked sarcastically.
"Right now, you slut!" Fabienne produced the leather strap she used on my backside. She kept in nearby in case she needed to apply it to me when I behaved mischievously. She began to slap my mother's thighs hard with it.
Madeleine giggled as if it tickled and amused her to be beaten. I could see her thighs turning pink, and the sound of the strap left no doubt that Fabienne was applying the full force.
"Please! You didn't have to tie me up for this. If this is how you get your kicks, I would have stripped naked and bent over a long time ago," my mother laughed heartily.
Fabienne applied the lash to my mother's full, ripe melon-shaped tits. I could see from my mother's face that she enjoyed it even though it hurt. Her nipples became harder, and goosebumps appeared around her areola like a wet nurse might when she performs her duties.
Nannette patted her own chest as she watched our mother's wicked torment. She smiled as she watched as my mother's tits get slapped hard enough to knock them across her chest. It amused her to watch her displeasure.
I was fascinated by how the leather strap made my mother's tits bounce and jiggle. My Grandmother gave her much more than 20 lashes. The beating lasted thirty minutes.
"Getting tired, Fabienne? Just when I was starting to enjoy it," My mother's face was red, and her entire body looked puffy and sore from the lash marks. She was sweating and breathing heavily.
"Stand up and turn around, bend over the chair," Fabienne insisted stubbornly as she unbound my mother just enough that she could bend over the chair. Fabienne kicked my mother's legs apart wide and let her hang her tits over the back of the chair before tying her neck and wrists to the chair again.
"This is much more comfortable, Madame Fabienne," My mother quipped.
"You joke now, but by morning, you'll thank me for disciplining you this way!" Fabienne lit up my mother's ass with the lash. Madeleine's back flinched, and her buttocks jiggled much like her tits had earlier.
"You are far too plump! This ass is far too great a target! You do so little housework! You will eat table scraps from now on!" Fabienne demanded as she applied the lash to both buttocks equally.
"Hah! What about chocolate Bon-Bons from my lovers?" my mother pushed her backside out and kept her legs apart as if urging my Grandmother to strike her harder. "They like to play rough with me too! You'll have to do better than this if you want to re-educate me, Fabienne!" she said.
My Grandmother insisted she would speak to her in a respectful tone from now. "You will respect your betters at all times! You will refer to your husband as Maitre Robert! Set a good example of dignity and respect!"
"Never!" My mother spat on the ground and stuck out her rump further. She spread her legs further apart as she leaned forward.
"Then you shall be stripped of all dignity! I shall treat you in the manner you deserve!" my Grandmother promised.
"I wish you would, Fabienne!" my mother insisted that my Grandmother follow through with her promise.
"You shall address me as Maitresse or Maitresse Fabienne and only when spoken too!" Fabienne insisted.
"What happened to calling you Madame Fabienne?" My mother clenched her jaw and closed her eyes when Fabienne whipped her butt harder than usual.
"So you remember you were supposed to call me Madame Fabienne when you are bent over with your derriere exposed in the most obscene manner? It seems this position is good for your memory!" my Grandmother whipped her ass again. My mother's tits bounced as the chair rocked forward.
"Yes, fine! Madame Fabienne! Is that what you wish me to call you?" My mother offered.
"Non, that is far too casual for your new station! You'll address me as Maitresse Fabienne during your re-education! Say it!" my Grandmother spanked her across the ass.
"Ay! Thank you, Maitresse Fabienne! My ass is nice and warm now! Perhaps we can play this game another night? I really am getting excited enough that I think I could hump your wet fish of a son now," Madeleine promised her mother-in-law.
There was less defiance in my mother's voice even though she insulted my father and pretended not to be thoroughly moved by the spanking she received. It was as if the desire to defy my Grandmother was being slowly eroded from her tone.
I always cried by the time I received 10 lashes from that accursed well-worn leather strap. My mother had received at least forty of the hardest swats on her fundament, and yet my mother had a wintry smile of satisfaction on her face.
Fabienne began to swing the leather strap between my mother's legs. I heard Madeleine coo and giggle at first, but then she cried out that it was really going too far. My mother's resolve to defy her mother-in-law was starting to wane even faster.
"You asked me to re-educate you, and I intend to oblige you," Fabienne's swings hit my mother directly in the middle of her legs. I wished I could see what she had between her legs.
My Grandmother insisted I remove my pants completely and any underthings I was wearing when she strapped me. On few occasions, the leather strap brushed my genitals, and I got an uncomfortable hard-on. She threatened to spank me there if I didn't control my indecent urgings and made me stand in the corner until it went away. I will never forget how humiliated I was when she put me in the corner that way. The very idea of my Grandmother striking my mother on that sensitive part of her body made me aroused again.
Nannette noticed my erection sticking up through my nightshirt. She pointed and giggled.
"Shhh!!" I warned Nanette and tried to hide my boner.
"What else will you make me do, Maitresse Fabienne?" my mother asked in a much more contrite and polite tone. Each swat between her legs was hard and deliberate. Her body jerked and spasmed slightly as she endured them. She was exposed and vulnerable, and any time she tried to close her legs, my Grandmother kicked them apart wider.
"We will go shopping. You love to spend Robert's money. We need 2 pairs of handcuffs, An 8-foot chain, 6 rings that we'll affix to the wall, 2 locks, a steel shaft, and a whip! You will be rationed to bread and water to make up for the shortfall in the family budget for the cost of the supplies!" Fabienne seemed resolute to continue this re-education.
"Yes, Maitresse Fabienne, that is only fair" My mother looked like she might pass out. She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and rocked her hips in time with her beating.
"Only a wicked and shameful cunt such as yourself would ever find pleasure in pain!" Fabienne looked at my mother with disgust. She put her fingers between my mother's legs and inspected her. "You are dripping wet!" she made my mother smell her fingers.
"No one has ever beaten me quite like this, Maitresse Fabienne!" my mother seemed to be in tears as if she didn't want my Grandmother to cease.
"We have only just begun to address your debauchery! You will find pleasure in your discipline only from the knowledge that your expiation is required to teach you humility and obedience!" My Grandmother promised.
"In the morning, you will shave this tangled mess! It is probably matted with the seed of a hundred drunken sailors and filled with lice and crabs," my Grandmother cracked the lash on her cunny.
"Yes, yes, Maitresse Fabienne!" my mother agreed and kept her legs apart so that my Grandmother could continue beating her cunny. I had seen Nanette's cunny many times because we often changed in front of each other. She didn't have hair on hers. It looked like a small, ripe peach. I wanted desperately to see what was under my mother's cunny hair.
"I have known women like you. My own sister was a lazy, selfish mother with perverse desires. I watched my father educate her with far more vigor than I am going to apply to you. He had her cunt pierced with a great ring and her clit removed to prevent her from masturbating herself before finally committing her to a convent!" she said. "Suzane would have found your new accommodations luxurious by her standards!"
I had never heard I had an Aunt Suzane. I wondered if my father knew her either.
"No please! I'll behave myself! In the morning, we can discuss this with Robert," my mother pleaded. Her mouth hung open as she received another harsh slash from the leather strap between her legs.
"Maitre, Robert!" my Grandmother reminded Madeleine how she was expected to address my father. My mother agreed in tears and acknowledged the instructions. "No, you will not speak to Maitre, Robert! It has already been decided. You would simply manipulate and offer him tears. It is not his decision. If he was going to take charge of your discipline, he would have years ago!" my Grandmother insisted.
"As you wish, Maitresse Fabienne," my mother gasped, and her mouth hung open as she sucked in air and began to spasm further. I knew the pain must be unbearable, but she seemed wracked with pleasure as well. It was quite confusing to me to watch her writhe and undulate so obscenely.
"You will be sleeping in the small room. There will be no furniture. Robert will have instructions to beat you nightly, and if he doesn't do it properly, then you will be severely punished," my Grandmother promised.
We had a small room in the apartment that we used for storage of odds and ends and decorations. I once hoped I could have it for a room to myself so that I could have privacy from my annoying sister. The small room wasn't large enough for a bed, even as small as mine.
"Of course, Maitresse Fabienne! It will be as you say!" my mom grunted lustily and endured the beating. My Grandmother striped her legs with the lash and made Madeleine expose the soles of her feet to the lash.
"Tomorrow, I shall review your wardrobe. What cannot be sold shall be burned. You may be a shameless hussy, but even you won't leave the house naked. If you do, then you would surely be arrested for indecency. The only clothing you will be permitted to wear will be a wool cap with a chemise and bell ornaments! You are a Libertine, after all! Mere nudity won't be enough to bring shame to your face," she assured my mother.
She promised my mother that she would no longer be permitted to go out drinking and fornicating.
"Yes, Maitresse Fabienne," my mother was in the process of agreeing with the new rule when she stopped mid-sentence and gasped. Fabienne sank a wooden brush handle between the part in my mother's asscheeks. She must have shoved it into her asshole. I couldn't see how far the broom handle went into my mother's butt. It appeared to have been thrust in at least six inches, but my mother has thick bubble shaped ass cheeks.
The broom handle parted her ass cheeks like the cleavage between a wet nurse's enormous bosoms. In the dark, I could not make out any more detail than that. My mother seemed shocked initially by the broom’s placement but quickly adjusted to it. She didn’t struggle or resist my grandmother from pushing it further into her ass. I got the distinct impression my mother didn’t enjoy what was happening but that it wasn’t the first time something this large had been shoved up her ass.
I had received enemas before, but the bronze spigot was a fraction of the size of this brush handle.
"Oh! Maitresse Fabienne!" my mother howled.
"You are a sodomite and a libertine! I would think you would be quite used to this by now. In the morning, you will be able to remove this brush and begin your chores. Until then, it can remind you of Robert's misfortune. He must sleep alone in his bed because his shrew of a wife neglected him," My Grandmother said as she unbuckled my mother from the chair.
My mother almost fell over as she stood up. Her hands were still tied behind her back. She bent slightly at the knee and wiggled her butt. She turned around, and I could see from the stairs that the broom handle was inserted cleanly into her asshole.
Nannette giggled and gently touched her own buttocks through her nightgown. My little sister casually picked her ass crack out of the nightgown and let it hang down as we both squatted out of sight. At least, we thought we were out of sight.
"Guillaume and Nannette, you have been very disobedient tonight. Let your mother's wretched condition be your guide and persuade you to mind your manners," my Grandmother addressed us on the stairs. She clutched the broom handle between my mother's legs like it was a door handle she was opening.
"Guillaume? Nannette?" My mother's face was contorted and covered in sweat and tears as she looked up the dark stairs to see us.
"What is the matter, Madeleine? Did you not say that Guillaume should learn lessons about women early? Just as his father should have? You will serve as a lesson to both of them!" Fabienne pushed my mother forward by grasping the broom handle and forcing her to walk upstairs to the small room.
"I am so sorry, Guillaume!" my mother marched forward slowly. Her legs had been hobbled with string, and her wrists were still bound.
"It is quite alright, mother!" I said from the top of the stairs. I wasn't sure what she was apologizing about, but I didn't want to be impolite and not answer her.
The door to the small room slammed shut, and my mother in law continued to thrash my mother. I heard Fabienne use the term Séquestration. She told my mother she would be free to lament and beg because it only strengthened her resolve to continue Madeleine's Re-education. "As much as it pleases me to hear your petty pleadings and false promises of modesty, I will gag you if you are not silent!" Fabienne told her.
After that, there were only muffled cries and murmurs from the small room.
The show, such as it was ended for us. That night I masturbated under my nightshirt. "Nanette! Stop watching!" I insisted in the darkness.
"I am not watching!" she whispered back, but she was clearly watching me. I hated sharing a room with her, but I was told that many siblings in large families of seven or more would have been overjoyed to only have to share a room with one other person.
I had played with my dick many times, but this was the first time I did it until I spilled my seed. My seed was sticky, hot, and not at all pleasant. If my mother's cunny hair was filled with that viscous liquid, I understood why my Grandmother insisted she must shave the hair between her legs. It was uncomfortable sleeping with my seed spilled on my outfit and all the perverse mental images in my brain from what I had seen my mother do.
I smiled and looked out the window into our tiny yard. I could see the moon and the stars twinkling down over head. I imagined my mother with gold hoops through her nose, nipples, and hairless cunny. I masturbated a second time before finally falling asleep.
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Madeline