Chapter Five
Margot felt highly self-conscious. She was on pins and needles, with Zurica walking back and forth behind them.
Zurica said, “I see your daughter is an adult female, as requested. There is no need to protect her. She needs to learn adult ways and should learn to take adult punishment. Hmm. Your daughter has a pleasing rear. I see tight, well-rounded, firm buttocks. Yes, they do look like they could take punishment quite pleasingly.”
It sounded like Zurica was ogling Journee! It sounded like Zurica liked Journee’s “tight, well-rounded, firm buttocks” a little too much to be straight.
And it sounded like the Rambikkun punishments were administered to the “buttocks!” What the fuck? Did they… spank people?
Zurica continued after a pause and talked like the Parrows could not hear her even though they obviously could.
“Both American rears are of pleasing sight and will be a pleasure to punish. The Americans did deliver good emissaries. The Americans do have high-quality flesh. Americans are so foolish. Look at this young one. She has the strip of cloth between her buttocks. Why? It covers so little and is so inconvenient. But it does make the younger American’s rear yet more appealing than otherwise. Americans and their secrets! They even try to keep their brown holes secret!”
Margot did not know what to think, and she certainly did not know what to do. This situation was so unbelievable! Bad enough if it was just her. But her daughter was right there!
She now knew she should never have brought Journee, but she also knew she’d had to in order to come here.
She should send Journee away as soon as possible, but if she did, they would probably send Margot packing also.
Besides, it was too late now. The self-esteem damage of this kneeling thing and the way Zurica spoke to them was already done. The damage was done. Hopefully, Journee would take all this with some humor, like she usually did. Humor protected people from some of the humiliation life heaped on them.
Journee was friendly but strong. She’d shake this off. She’d probably adapt and quickly get used to these kneel inspections.
But Margot would make certain Brinlee never visited them. She could still protect Brinlee from this kind of thing.
Zurica yelled, “Younger American! You manage to slouch even while kneeling! I do not care how much it makes your sexy rear end stick out pleasingly. Yes, I am sure you are trying to get my sexual attention. But you must respect your superior. Your shoulders dare to be uneven! Your body weight should be directly over your knees, shoulders even, eyes forward or down, torso stretched upward like you are trying to reach something on tippy toes though on knees. This will feature your American body best.”
Sexual attention? That comment made Margot so angry! Journee wasn’t trying to get Zurica’s “sexual attention!”
But Margot was now aware that Journee had sexual desires. And a streak of the nasty slutty. Something like that.
Yeah, a streak…. Journee had licked up some slutty streaks off her hand, hadn’t she?
Okay, fine, Journee wasn’t a complete innocent, but Journee was not a lesbian! And, even if she were, she wouldn’t want Zurica’s “sexual attention.”
Margot did not appreciate how Zurica spoke to her daughter. But she couldn’t make Zurica stop. In this situation, she could only make things worse, not better.
It was a new flavor of helplessness for Margot. Instead of being unable to help herself, she was unable to help herself or her daughter. She felt ten times more helpless.
She saw Journee, looking dismayed and concerned, obeying Zurica’s directions.
Then Zurica gave Margot similar directions. Margot obeyed them, but it was not lost on her that these poses were designed to make them more appealing sexually.
But she guessed the same thing held true for lipstick or mascara and for swimsuits and so on. Rambikkuns did it with body posture. Americans, or westerners, did it with cosmetics and apparel.
The Rambikkuns did not wear much apparel. Maybe they needed something to replace it and came up with positions, certain ones, as a method of attraction.
Margot reminded herself to be tolerant and that she was not here to judge. She was here on an important diplomatic mission.
But she hadn’t counted on it causing her daughter humiliation.
And her daughter hadn’t counted on it humiliating her mom. That was obvious from what Journee did next.
Zurica ordered Margot, “Shoulders back, point your nipples at an upward angle while keeping your eyes at a downward angle!”
Journee hopped up and gestured with a pointed finger at Zurica’s face, “Don’t you dare tell my mom how to kneel! She’s the American ambassador, and you should treat her with respect!”
Zurica looked coldly amused, “Ambassador, instruct your fiery daughter to go back to the kneeling.”
Margot felt like she had no choice, “Journee, it’s fine. Different customs and all. This is like their… handshake I guess.”
“It isn’t a fucking handshake, Mom! This is totally one-sided and total bullshit!”
Journee did not usually swear much. When she did, it was usually part of a fun comment, profanity for amusement. Anger mixed with profanity was rare. Journee had red hair but did not fit the redheaded temperament stereotype.
Margot hated to be, for the moment, an ally of Zurica’s, “Journee, we can talk about this later. Now is the time for kneeling.”
How had she said that so earnestly and so easily?
She was telling her daughter to kneel. This entire diplomatic mission was so surreal!
Journee knelt.
Margot was relieved, but her relief did not last long at all.
Zurica asked, “Older American, your daughter most certainly earned a punishment. Do you still wish to take the punishment for her?”
Margot tried not to hesitate. She did not want a punishment but, of course, would rather she took it than her daughter.
“Yes.”
What the hell? Did they have some appeal process here? Some court she could take this to?
Zurica said, “I make this concession in the interest of good relations. I want to be tolerant of white savages. You white savages think you are civilized. Hardly! Yes, I will punish you when you do wrong and also punish you when your daughter does wrong. It will be interesting to see if this causes your fire-hair daughter to submit more quickly to her superiors or if the lack of physical pain causes a greater delay. I am intrigued to learn this thing.”
Margot hated this. It sounded like Zurica would punish her physically! With pain!
Damn it, she wasn’t the savage here, white or otherwise. People who punished other people with physical torment were true savages.
“Oh, no! Mom!” Journee sounded tormented by her mom’s sacrifice on her behalf.
Zurica moved behind Margot, “You may stand so that I do not need to stoop down. But otherwise, stretch upward. Also, be sure to spread your legs so my blows do not topple you. You are so slim and pale as if you are weak. You look as if a strong breeze might fell you.”
Margot did as ordered. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel. She saw no options.
She hoped Journee would learn from this! Journee needed to submit!
Oh, that sounded bad. Submit to Rambikkun customs, not any other kind of submission. Of course not!
Zurica was right there behind Margot, and Margot was highly conscious of Deja’s dark, almost hostile, eyes on her and of her daughter watching.
Zurica said, “I am pleased to punish you. Although I would delight in punishing your daughter as she has a delectable ass, you also have a firm ass that looks receptive to the flat of the hand.”
The… flat of the hand?
Zurica was going to spank her!
Zurica instructed her, “Clothing is a means of cheating the punishment. Who knows the strength and thickness of each material, especially the ones from America?”
Margot, for about a nano-second, considered telling Zurica that American materials were usually from elsewhere, such as Malaysia. But now was not the time to be a smartass or to do anything that might seem like she was being a smartass. Not now when her ass was about to smart with pain.
Don’t be a smartass, or your ass will smart!
Zurica ordered, “Bare your buttocks, American. Let no clothing intrude in your punishment.”
Margot was awkward with trepidation as she pushed her pants down.
She thought but did not say, “In front of my daughter? Really?”
Zurica insisted, “I said ‘let no clothing intrude.’ Push that strip of cloth out of the way. Americans are so strange. What is that thing called? A panty? Remove the panty!
Margot felt near-instant déjà vu as she pushed her panties down and thought, “Really? In front of my daughter?”
She thought, with bitter amusement at her own expense, that this was almost fair. She’d peeped at her daughter and saw her daughter’s pussy, and now, just a little while later, the shoe was on the other foot. Or the eyes were on the other pussy.
Margot straightened and then stretched her body upward. Her pants and panties were gathered at her ankles. She’d meant to get them down only to her knees, like protecting the modesty of her calves counted for something, but they were too loose, or her legs were too thin.
Or maybe her legs were shaking too much and had vibrated them right on down.
She felt as nervous as a preschooler about to get their first shot. But she suspected what was coming would be multiple, not singular, and would hurt far more than a shot.
A spank landed and it landed far harder than Margot ever would have guessed a spank could land.
SLAP!
Margot felt herself straighten more or maybe even lift slightly. Zurica had strong arms and the spank started low on Margot’s ass and Zurica spanked in an upward motion.
SLAP!
Another? So soon?
SLAP!
The sudden pain from the spanks was like the shock of stepping into a shower much hotter or colder than expected.
SLAP!
It didn’t help to hear Journee say, “Oh, God. I can’t believe this.”
Join the club, Journee!
The disbelief club, not the spanking club.
SLAP!
She’d heard of taking it on the chin, but this was taking it on the ass. Wow, it really hurt!
SLAP!
Margot realized the spanks sounded just like slaps, like someone in a movie slapping someone else’s face.
SLAP!
Margot felt like crying!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
Then it was over.
The spanking was over. But something else would soon begin.
“American mother, your rear takes well to my hand. The strikes land well and shake your rear and redden it so greatly. It is quite gratifying to witness it. American daughter, do you see how red your mother’s rear is?”
“Yes.” Journee sounded deeply resentful.
“Just think, American daughter, it is redder than her hair due to your behavior. You see? From now, you must submit. For your mother, not for me. I enjoy striking her rear end. Change your ways but do not feel too bad. Your mother will be aroused by this. Perhaps already, perhaps later.”
Aroused? What the Hell? Margot did not feel aroused. She felt like she’d never be aroused again. Her ass hurt too bad!
Zurica sounded way too self-satisfied as she said to Journee, “Perhaps you will sense this or otherwise confirm it. Then, perhaps, you will cause more trouble with your American attitude but will do it to get me to give your mother what she secretly wants. Most inferiors, those who submit, and most white savages in my experience, are incredibly sexually responsive to pain in areas they like to keep private.”
Margot hoped Journee did not believe Zurica!
Margot hoped Zurica wasn’t right….
Was that liquid pain she felt or some other kind of liquid? Why would liquid pain be in her pussy anyway?
It sure didn’t hurt. Only her ass did. Shouldn’t liquid pain hurt? Liquid without the pain was just… liquid… of some kind….
Zurica announced, “The punishment is fully delivered. However, I am sure there will be more, perhaps many more punishments. Perhaps by the time you no longer need punishments but would like rewards, I will yet do the same. One day perhaps the punishment will become the reward.”
What the hell was this crazy African talking about?
Well, thank God it was over. Margot pulled up her panties and her pants, but she did it too quickly. The abrasion of the clothing made the pain splashed on her ass glow much hotter.
Zurica said, “Some say white savages have such pale skin in order to best show the effect of flat hand strikes to their posterior. Perhaps it is so.”
Jesus, this African was too much!
Margot felt like she had to say something. She should have said something sooner but better late than never. Maybe she could get Zurica to back off at least a litte bit. At the least, Margot wanted to show some fight for her daughter.
“Zurica, I want you to know that I plan to speak with Queen Muunu about the way you treat us.”
Zurica grinned, the first time they’d seen her do anything close to a smile, “Yes, do that American ambassador. Queen Muunu will enjoy the tale of the reddening of your tail. It is good to amuse the Queen. Yes, tell her. Perhaps she will be curious to see how red your ass gets from a spanking. Perhaps she’ll have you spanked at the palace just to see the delightful shade.”
Margot was one hell of a lot less enthused about that idea. Zurica spoke with assured confidence. She knew Queen Muunu much better than Margot, and Margot had learned enough about Queen Muunu that morning.
Margot thought Zurica was probably right. Well, there goes nothing. Name dropping the Queen had no impact on whether or not Zurica had an impact on Margot’s ass.
Zurica stepped to the door and opened it, “I leave at this time. American mother, the ambassador, I will pick you up tomorrow one hour after dawn. Do not eat breakfast. As I think you know by now, as with this morning, Queen Muunu will feed you. Personally.”
Gulp.
Again tomorrow?
Gulp.
Was Margot going to have to breastfeed every day in this hellhole country?
Gulp.
Yeah, gulp down breast milk!
This place was crazy, and Margot felt like she was going crazy along with it.
Zurica almost left but then stuck her head in past the doorjamb, “Deja Jenkins, recall you are to ensure the American mother white savage abases herself to you. And, yes, do it today, right now, next, after I depart. Believe me, this is the best time. Also, put her in place as I showed you how to do earlier.”
Deja looked almost beside herself with conflicting emotions. She looked nervous but maybe eager. Or she was intoxicated with the power of the idea yet uncertain if she could do it.
“Yes, Zurica. I’ll do it.”
Margot did not like the sound of all this. She hoped what she read in Deja was just fantastic acting on her part.
Zurica left.
As soon as Zurica was gone, Margot wasn’t worried. She wasn’t even going to say anything about it to Deja. Obviously, Deja said what she had to say in order to placate Zurica. Margot thought she knew Deja well enough by now. Deja was nervous and eager to please and, really, almost submissive or like a brownnoser. Margot was sure Deja would not follow Zurica’s instructions.
But it turned out Margot was wrong.
“Come with me now, Margot,” said Deja.
Was that… an order? What the fuck?
Deja, without looking back to see if Margot followed, walked to the stairs and went up them. Her stride was faster than Margot had ever seen from her and she took longer steps. Usually, she sort of bustled around with uncertain energy, but not right now.
Margot looked at Journee.
Journee said, “I guess you better go with her. You know, because she has black skin.”
“Journee!”
“Well, it’s true. They treat her totally different here. They treat us like… white savages, I guess.”
She wasn’t wrong….
Margot told her, “I’m so sorry about the kneeling. I had no idea when I accepted the position.”
Journee could not stop a reluctant little smirk, “Accepting the position… of kneeling.”
“I better go after Deja.”
“Yeah, where is she going? Her bedroom isn’t even up there! Good luck with her. I think I’ll go for a swim.”
“Have a nice swim, and try to forget all of this.”
“Mom, I’m sorry I got you punished.”
Margot saw that reluctant little smirk on Journee’s face again. Well, she couldn’t blame Journee much. This situation was so odd and take a thousand steps back from it, and it probably was amusing to Journee that her mom was spanked right next to her and because of her.
“Not your fault, Journee.”
“Does it hurt?”
It sure did! It felt to Margot like her ass was pulsing with pain.
“Don’t worry about it, dear. I’m tough!” She did not want Journee stressed out about it.
“Thanks for taking it for me, Mom. I don’t think I could stand something like that from her. I mean… I’d never want to be spanked.”
Journee looked almost wistful as she contemplated having to take a spanking. But Margot knew that couldn’t be a wistful look or an oddly yearning one. It was simply a thoughtful one, and Journee was trying to picture how she’d maintain her composure and Parrow pride if such a thing happened to her.
Journee went towards the pool, and Margot went up the stairs.