10
Jim Carruthers
Synopsis
Sally finds retribution is painful when the man she attacks takes her to an isolated island.
Jim Carruthers
by obohobo

Warnings
Please take note!
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only. 
MF NC. Spanking 
If you are underage or offended by such material or, if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now. 
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies.  In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation. 
Copyright 2003 Revised 2005

Chapter 1. The meeting
“I’m going riding and neither you nor anyone else or the weather is going to stop me, ” Sally McCraig shouted as she slammed the door behind her.
She strode across the courtyard, spied Johnny lurking under the coachhouse door overhang and ordered him to fetch Victor’s saddle. “You ain’t going riding in this weather are you miss?”
“I didn’t ask for a weather report,” snapped Sally, “Just get me the saddle.”
“Sorry, Miss.”
Indeed the weather was bad. Although the rain had eased a little, storm clouds threatened and the wind was picking up again. It had been wet like this for three weeks, the land was sodden and the rivers running almost as hard as in spring when the snow melted from the hills. However, it was still only early October and the winter rains and snow had still to come. Older folks nodded to each other and sagely declared it had been the worst September Scotland had known in living memory and October was continuing in the same vein.
Sally lived with her parents in the rambling old Bencarran Lodge. For three centuries the McCraig family line had lived there and at one time owned the whole of the peninsula but during bad times at the turn of the century, Sally’s grandfather sold the western tip and the small island of Sula, which was separated from it by about two miles of water, to Frederick Carruthers a businessman from Glasgow. At that time a small group of crofters eked out a living on Sula but all left during the depression era. Frederick Carruthers liked the peace of the island and employed some of the crofters building a goodly sized house near the small harbour.
Ian McCraig, Sally’s father and indeed the whole of the McCraig family, always regretted the selling of this part of the estate, considering it rightfully theirs and stating openly their belief that Carruthers had wheedled the land from them for a pittance. Even today there was no love lost between the McCraig’s and Jim Carruthers, the present owner. Jim had tried to appease the McCraig’s by allowing them to run sheep on his part of the peninsula for a peppercorn rent but forbade any hunting or shooting. His interest was in wild life in general and marine biology in particular.
The locals gave Ian McCraig the courtesy, if ill-fitting title, of ‘The Laird’ but neither he nor Gertrude his wife, were up to the task of managing the large estate and wobbled from one financial crisis to the next. Neither had any real control over Sally whose forceful ways easily overcame any of their timid objections.
At 25 Sally could not be called beautiful, yet she was not unattractive, at least not until she opened her mouth then her sharp tongue turned away all except a few friends and they were not close. Sally was a loner. At school she was a middle of the road pupil collecting a handful of GCSE passes but not going on to further education. She left home for a while and worked at a variety of jobs, none lasting very long. Her forceful criticism of those around her, her sour disposition and inability to work or cooperate with others soon lead to dismissal. After three years in the city she returned to Bencarran Lodge theoretically to work in the estate office but only when weather conditions dictated she couldn’t go out, did she appear in the office and then only to comment unfavourably on the way it was run.
As is often the case with lone females she had an empathy with animals particularly her horse, Victor. Whenever possible she rode over the moors, through the glens and by the rivers on the estate; her family and staff were only too pleased to see her go. Peace would reign for a few hours.
On the fateful Tuesday, Sally had woken late, missed breakfast and vehemently rebuked Mrs. Simpson the cook, for having poached salmon on the luncheon menu two days running. The cook protested that Sally loved poached salmon and this was fresh from the nearby river. As the argument became more heated, Sally questioned the cook’s ability to do her job properly and Mrs Simpson decided to see the Laird and hand in her notice.
Ian McCraig tried his best to persuade her to stay. She was a good cook and they were hard to come by especially for the wages he could offer and, like Mrs. Simpson pointed out, she could get a job for more money in the hotel in Tarpin only ten miles away. Despite this, she actually liked working for the Laird but when Sally was at home, life could be hell. Finally Ian was able to reach a partial compromise. If he could control Sally’s behaviour for the next fortnight, Mrs. Simpson would stay. Two weeks to get Sally under control; he hadn’t been able to do that for twenty-five years!
Summoning Sally to his office, he tried to explain the position and get her to apologise to the cook. Sally, still in her bad mood, demanded, “Is the cook then worth more than me?” Ian thought to himself that she probably was and, reading this in his facial expression, Sally turned and announced she was going riding.
“You can’t go out in this weather Sally.”
“I can and I will.” Sally stomped out of the room, grabbed her Barbour jacket, picked up her hard hat and riding crop, slammed the door and was away; anger in her heart at everyone around her.
Usually she calmed down after riding Victor for a while but today was not one of those days. She followed the old drovers trail towards Tarpin but after only a mile, found the track washed away and her path barred by a mudslide and a ranging torrent of water. Victor seemed edgy but she allowed him to pick his own way and follow a small, almost unmarked track towards the western end of the peninsula. The rain came in gusts now and there was a distant rumble of thunder. None of which lifted the gloom from around her. 
Nearing the end of the trail where it crossed a little rivulet and descended steeply down to the shore, Sally was perturbed to find the rivulet had become a full-blown river. By following it upstream a little way she found a place where it was wider but shallower and was able to entice Victor across. 
Today the descent to the shore was a muddy slippery path and Sally knew she should dismount but decided not to. Victor picked his way down but nearing the bottom, startled by the thunder, slipped and tipped Sally over his head. Landing on her back she slid like a toboggan down the slope ending at the feet of Jim Carruthers.
“Hello, Sal. You really didn’t need to fall at my feet like that!" Jim laughed. In a flash of humiliation induced rage, Sally slashed a back-hander with the riding crop across Jim’s face. A livid stripe immediately appeared across his right cheek, scar-like from the corner of his mouth to above his ear. 
Jim reared back, grabbed the whip that Sally still held motionless in her hand and threw it to the ground. “You will pay for this tenfold bitch,” he said quietly and coldly.

Chapter 2. To the island
To the casual observer, Jim did not appear a wealthy man. His waterproof camouflage suit was well worn and covered an equally well worn pair of trousers and an old fisherman’s type jersey. In fact this appearance was very misleading. Jim was a major shareholder in a large technological pharmaceutical company with a weekly income more than the average worker earned in a year. On his beloved Sula he had little to spend it on except the high tech recording equipment and microscopes needed for his marine biology hobby. At 32 Jim was somewhat of a recluse. Few visited the island and any necessary business was conducted at the Tarpin hotel.
It hadn’t been a very successful Tuesday for him either. The poor weather limited the seal filming he wanted to do to almost nil and now, with the wind and rain increasing and the light fading, he locked the hut near the beach in which he stored his hide equipment ready to return to the small motorboat, “Gannet,” moored at the small jetty. A sharp neigh caused him to look up. Coming precariously down the slippery path was the McCraig girl. Jim had met her on two occasions when he called at the lodge on business and both times she had treated him like dirt.
Concentrating on controlling the horse, she hadn’t seen him. A flash of lightening spooked the horse, it reared and she somersaulted over Victor’s head landing on her back. Helplessly she slid down the slope towards him. The effect was comical and caused Jim to grin as he watched Sally, legs and arms in the air, slithering first one way then the other in the mud and water until stopped by the shingle beach. Victor still unsettled by the thunder and lightning, managed to keep his footing, turned and headed rider-less back the way he had come.
Amused by her entrance, Jim greeted her, he thought pleasantly enough. The slash came as be stooped to help the girl to her feet. The explosive pain and the shock knocked him back for a few seconds. Sally sat there motionless, mouth open at the horror of what she had done. When Jim grabbed the whip she fully expected he would beat her. That would have been her immediate reaction but instead he threw the whip away. “What does he intend to do now?” she asked herself while mumbling an apology half under her breath. She was not used to apologising to anyone so the words came out with difficulty and were lost in the wind but Jim’s threat, “You will pay for this tenfold bitch,” spoken quietly came through clearly to her brain.
“I’m .... er ....sorry,” she mumbled again, “I hate people shortening my name to Sal.” She added as if to mitigate her action. 
“So how many others have a whiplash across their face for that reason?” enquired Jim in an icy tone.
“I’ve... never done that before to.... anyone,” Sally stuttered. “I’m sorry,” she repeated a little more loudly this time.
“Well it certainly isn’t the best way to win friends or influence people. Now I must get going, its getting dark and the wind’s getting up,” Jim started towards the “Gannet” picking up the riding crop on the way and throwing it into the cockpit of the boat.
“You aren’t just going to leave me here are you?” Sally cried beginning at last to see her desperate situation. “Take me to Bencarran in your boat.” “Please,” she added as an afterthought.
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t in this weather. Once we got out of the lee of Sula and around the headland the seas would swamp the boat. Just getting to Sula will be bad enough.”
“Take me to Tarpin then.”
“Far too dangerous to try and get round the rocks in the dark.”
Sally suddenly began to realise the seriousness of her position. She was stranded here with the man she had struck and whose face was now lopsidedly swollen with one eye partially closed. It gave him a very mean appearance. 
Jim spoke. “Sal,” he deliberately used the name she disliked so much, “As I see it, you have three choices. One. To stay here for the night.” Cold and wet through as she was this was not a real option. “Two. Walk back to Bencarran.” With the main path cut by the swollen river, the only way was the coastal path a distance of twenty-four miles. Not an easy route in good weather and in daylight. In today’s conditions and wearing riding boots with smooth soles, again that was not a real option. “It is possible that when and if Victor arrives back they will send a search party to look for you.”
Sally thought this too was a very dubious option. She had started out in the opposite direction and was seen by two crofters. No one saw her turn and head westwards. Any search would be in the Tarpin direction.
“The third option is to come with me to Sula,” Jim continued. “But in view of your behaviour I am attaching a couple of conditions to that option.” He paused as if considering his words, “The first is to accept your punishment for this vicious attack and secondly you stay for a week as my personal live in maid.”
Sally looked dumbfounded. Surely he couldn’t expect her to agree to those terms. Could he? She surprised herself by asking, “And I suppose I will be expected to sleep with you?” Her voice showed her disgust at the thought.
Deliberately using the most direct terms he said, “Will I will fuck you? Yes, indeed I will. Let there be no mistake about that.”
“That’s rape.”
If you agree to come with me, then you agree to sex. If you agree then it is not rape. You can opt for either of the other two choices.”
While there is certain amount of logic in the argument, Sally doubted its courtroom validity. She wondered what would happen if she said “No” after arriving on the island.
“Well, the choice is yours,” Jim spoke again, “but you have only a few minutes to make up your mind. Once I cast off from the jetty, in this wind and sea I could not safely return. If you wish to come to Sula get on the boat now or in the few minutes before I cast off.”
Jim climbed aboard the “Gannet” and started the engine. Sally’s mind was full of questions, uncertainties and apprehensions. How would he punish her? Would he really fuck her? Would he really keep her for a whole week and set her doing menial tasks? How could she agree to those terms? Equally though, how could she not agree to them? Staying was not an option; that was almost certain death. “Perhaps I can find a way around his conditions after we arrive at his home. Or wheedle my way out of them. I could easily renege on my promise. Probably he will expect that anyway.” She started to plan a strategy just a she heard the engine kick into life. Seeing Jim go forward to cast off the bow line, with microseconds to spare she shouted, “I’m coming!”

Sally sat in the partial shelter of the wheelhouse while Jim kept the “Gannet” more or less head on to the waves. The sea was rougher than he anticipated from the shore and the bow continually lifted from the water at the crest of a wave to crash down again with a tremendous thump that resounded through the steel built hull. In what seemed like a slight lull in the wind, Jim pulled his life jacket from the cockpit locker and made Sally wear it. He realised he should wear one too but the spare was in the forward locker. Telling Sally to hold the wheel and to keep the heading just slightly south of west, he went below. It took a short while to find and don the spare but in that short time Sally resolved to turn the boat and head for Bencarran. Quickly she shut the hatchway to prevent Jim from interfering with her scheme but unfortunately, or fortunately as it turned out, with cold fingers she couldn’t latch it.
It was a foolish move.  Even in calm weather her knowledge of the way by sea to Bencarran was limited. In the dark with a high sea running, it was near suicidal. No sooner had she spun the wheel than a wave caught the boat broadside on, tilting it to forty-five degrees or more. Sally was thrown off her feet into the after corner of the cockpit. Jim, just about to emerge from the hatchway, had a firm grip on the stanchions but nevertheless still hit a bulkhead with some force. The “Gannet” very slowly righted herself but shipped a lot of water before she did so. Fortunately the cockpit had a self-bailing system so the water slowly drained back to the sea. Jim leapt to the wheel but before he could get his craft back to its proper heading the next broadside wave hit. Again the boat tilted precariously, very near to capsizing. Water poured over the gunnel lifting Sally and sweeping her overboard. Her cry went unnoticed in the roar of the wind and water.
Before the next wave hit, Jim had managed to get the boat under control and was about to gun the engine when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a bright red lifejacket not inside the boat but rapidly drifting astern. Sally was only visible for a second or two when both she and the boat crested a wave.
Jim slowed the engine to ticking over speed, just enough power to keep steerage-way and the bow heading into the wind. With more windage than Sally, the boat was blown slowly astern and the gap between the two closed. In the half-light it took all of Jim’s seamanship skills to manoeuvre his craft close to the girl. As the gap narrowed he held out a boat hook but Sally was too cold and numb to grab it. The boat slipped sideways and the gap opened again. When the two closed again, Jim caught the hook in her lifejacket and dragged her to the side. She was going to be extremely heavy to lift aboard but fate this time did lend a hand. Having no one at the wheel the “Gannet” veered off the wind, wallowed and tilted in a trough, causing an further inrush of water into the boat and Sally with it.
She lay where the water dumped her. Jim opened the throttle, set the heading for Sula and warily fastened a rope loop over the wheel spoke. Pausing for only a few moments to see if the boat maintained the correct heading, he half dragged, half helped Sally into the cabin, sat her alongside the engine, which was the warmest place, and covered her with an old blanket.
For the next half an hour his attention was devoted to getting the “Gannet” to Sula in the shortest time. It was almost dark when they reached the slipway. With practised ease he soon had the boat in its mooring cradle and hauled up the slipway into the boat shed by the motorised winch.
Sally had hardly moved but sat in the one position, shivering violently. Jim roused her and helped her on to the quayside before returning to lock away his filming gear. Normally he would have taken it to the house but he too was soaking wet and cold. He was about to jump from the cockpit when he spied the riding crop, remarkably still hooked into the nook he had placed. Tucking it under his arm, he helped Sally along the shingle path into the house.

The house was larger than most typical crofters cottages but was still stone built with thick walls and small windows. Only one storey high, it sat snug to the ground allowing gale force winds to pass over it without inflicting any damage to the structure. 
Even with Jim’s supporting arm around her, Sally shivered almost uncontrollably. She wanted to swear and curse him but with her teeth chattering, no words would come. In her mind she illogically blamed him for her ordeal. A wisp of smoke from the chimney caught her eye and she prayed it was warm inside. 
And indeed it was. Jim had backed the fire with peat before leaving and had shut the dampers. Now he opened them, added more peat and soon the fire was roaring away.
“Get those wet clothes off, Sal.” He went into a side room, which Sally found later to be the bathroom, and brought a Terry cloth dressing gown and two towels. Sally’s fingers were numb and her efforts to remove the lifejacket and outer clothing were not having any effect. Jim came to her assistance while at the same time starting to remove his own wet clothing. Outer garments were spread around chairs to drip and dry, sweaters, shirts and trousers were hung over the drying horse hanging from the ceiling. 
Sally’s shivering had abated somewhat now she was feeling the warmth from the hearth. “How much further is he going?” she thought. Without a pause, Jim removed her bra and knickers noting as he did so that she was wearing a panty liner. “No!’ she protested, but it was too late. These too were draped over the drying rails along with his underpants. Gradually she began to realise that she would have great difficulty in stopping him doing anything he wanted with her.
Both now naked, Jim took a towel and proceeded to dry Sally's back vigorously. Starting at the neck her worked down the back, reaching her armpits he worked under the arms and cupping Sally’s breasts began rubbing them also.
“Please don’t,” Sally stuttered. 
“You’re now my personal live in maid, Sal, and as such I will rub you wherever I wish, whenever and however I wish for the next week,” growled Jim. “You agreed to that and you’ve caused more than enough trouble already. You must to learn to do what you are told. So far today, you have nearly killed yourself twice and me once. This week you are going to learn to do exactly as you are told! If you don’t, your arse will be very sore.”
He continued rubbing down Sally’s body paying particular attention to the area between her legs paying scant attention to her pathetic pleas “Nooo, please don’t.” It had been some years since she any man had touched her there. Sally wanted to slap his face again but felt weak from her ordeal and uncertain as to what he would do to her in return. For some reason his quiet, cold commands held more power over her than her blustering father’s shouted orders. She wasn’t able to exert the control over him she expected. Each time she saw the grotesque mark on his face, the thought of how he might exact his revenge scared her.
Satisfied she was dry, Jim finished his inspection of her body. She was quite tall, mousy haired and with had fairly small breasts. He passed her the Terry robe and finished drying himself in front of her. She had to stand and watch, embarrassed and blushing at the sight of his well-endowed cock swinging with his movements. After its cold spell, warm blood was returning and the shaft started to stiffen.
Jim went to the airing cupboard and returned wearing an old dressing gown. He slipped his feet into a pair of slippers that were warming under the hearth and realised that Sally was still barefoot and would soon be feeling the cold of the stone floor. Searching in the bedroom cupboard, he found an old pair of moccasins, too big for her but the lacing pulled them tight enough to stay on her feet. The fur lining would keep the chill away.
Dry now and with her shivering reduced to just an occasional shake, Sally began to take notice of her surroundings. It was a typical cottage room with black metal stove, on which she could now smell a stew of some sort cooking. A cluttered table stood in the middle of the floor with four wooden chairs, three of which were covered in books and papers. An overly large sideboard stood against one wall, again with the top covered with books and pieces of apparatus the purpose of which she couldn’t even guess. Two armchairs were arranged by the fireside but only one was free of paper and videotapes. A settee matching the armchairs stood along one wall, again covered with paper and other items. Every available space elsewhere, was filled with boat bits, video items and innumerable pieces of what could only be termed ‘junk’. Jim clearly didn’t expect visitors.
Jim gathered the items from the second armchair and dumped them on the floor to clear a space for Sally to sit. He went to a side room and Sally heard him pee. “The loo is in there, when you want to use it” He indicated the open door. Sally was near bursting. She soon found why he didn’t close the door. One hinge was broken and the door propped up on a wedge. “Sorry about the door,” he called, “I’m going to fix it one of these days.”
Sally, hearing a clattering of pans on the stove, realised Jim wasn’t watching her and relieved herself. Returning she saw the kettle was boiling and Jim was making mugs of tea. At Bencarran she would never accepted tea in anything but a china cup, here she accepted the mug gratefully.
“You better phone your father to let him know you are safe.” Jim moved a picture aside, revealing a combination lock wall safe. Opening it he removed a key and used it to open another door in the room. “Odd,.” thought Sally, “Why such security?” The room, originally a second bedroom, was full of high tech video editing and computer equipment. 
“Ian McCraig.”
“Jim Carruthers. Just phoning to let you know your daughter is safe and is staying with me on Sula.”
“How? Why? Is she alright? Let me talk to her.”
“One question at a time and its too long a story but she is fine, a couple of small bruises, that’s all. She has agreed to stay here for a week to train as a maid. That will give you a breathing space at Bencarran.”
“I don’t believe it,” spluttered Ian McCraig, “Let me talk to her.”
Jim handed Sally the phone and left the room. “You have five minutes,” he said, “Then you can set the table for dinner.” He didn’t cover the mouthpiece when he gave her the instruction so her father heard it as well.
From his position at the stove Jim could tell Sally was a little flustered. Her comments were brief, loud and had a bitter edge to them. She finished with, “No you don’t. I can bloody well look after myself!” Half a minute later she put the phone down.
“Everything okay?” Jim enquired. Sally turned to glare at him but just looking at his swollen face and closed eye shocked her into silence. “Victor just arrived home. They were going to send out search parties then he wanted to scramble a rescue helicopter to bring me back....” 
“That’s when you said you could look after yourself,” Jim finished for her, “You may not think that a wise decision later. I promised you a tenfold punishment and that you will get.” 

Chapter 3. Punished
“You are not really going to punish me are you?” Sally looked at him with disbelief. 
“You’d better believe it Sal. I’m not suffering this pain without getting some payback. What did you father say when you told him you were going to stay?”
“Bastard said to stay as long as I wanted. If I stayed away long enough perhaps the cook would reconsider leaving.” She then had to relate the lunchtime episode to Jim.
Although laying a table was not a chore she would have normally performed, the task was not an onerous one. At Bencarran the ‘everyday’ cutlery would have nice bone handles and the plates were matched bone china. Here it was stainless steel and an assortment of stoneware. She set two places on opposite sides of the table. The smell emanating from stove was making her feel very hungry. A plain ordinary stew. Mrs. Simpson would not have dared serve that to her at Bencarran. Here she knew there was no choice and besides she had already refused lunch and had missed breakfast. Sally was starving.
Jim ladled stew into two bowls and cut chunks of bread from a newly baked loaf and placed them on a plate between them. No side plates. No butter. Sally thought better not complain, it might be taken from her. Without any formality, Jim used a spoon to tuck into his stew. Sally soon followed his example. It was delicious although she decided not to tell him so. Living on his own, he’d learned to cook food they way he liked it; plain, simple and wholesome. 
Conversation during the meal was minimal. Each time Sally looked up she saw Jim’s face and the welt she had made across it. After the stew was finished, Jim made a pot of tea. Sally would have preferred freshly ground coffee but she wisely kept quiet. Cupping the mug to warm her hands, Sally looked once again at Jim’s face. She couldn’t keep her eyes off it. “Jim, please, I am very sorry for what I did. Will you forgive me and let me go home tomorrow? Please.”
“No!” The sharp reply brought a swift angry reaction from Sally. Her hand flew up and the blow would have again caught Jim across the face had he not parried it in time.
“You bloody bastard,” Sally spat at him. But Jim didn’t wait for any further remarks. Quickly he folded the arm behind Sally’s back forcing her breasts down to the table. Her other arm was soon alongside it and Sally could feel the sharp pain as he forced her arms upwards. She started to yell at him but a further jerk on her arms and a quiet, “Shut up” from Jim silenced her for the time being. She could tell from his voice that he was now very angry indeed and in no mood to be trifled with. Dragging her to a corner of the room where fishing gear was stored, he grabbed the end of a warp to a hoop net, wound it round Sally’s wrists and knotted it tightly. It was a temporary device until her could find more suitable fastenings but it would keep her under control for a while. He was determined that nothing would stop him giving her the hiding she so richly deserved.
“Basta........” Sally stopped abruptly when she saw the reel of packaging tape in Jim’s hand. “Noooo..........” 
“Okay Sally, either you are quiet or I ensure that you are with this tape. You have tried my patience enough for one day. First you risk your horse by going out in appalling weather, then you ride on my land and when your horse throws you because you didn’t dismount and lead him down the slope, you slash my face and when I try to take you to safety you almost drown all of us. Utterly irresponsible behaviour. Now, instead of showing real remorse for your actions you further try and attack me. Payback time. Painful payback time. I can assure you that as long as my face shows signs of your actions, then you will not be able to sit comfortably, that is unless I see genuine signs that you are mending your ways and you stop behaving like a total bitch.”
“Noooo......... Please......” Sally started to say again but stopped when the tape was held closer to her face.
Jim put the tape to one side. If the girl did yell it wouldn’t matter. No one would hear her. It was just that her snide remarks annoyed him. Donning an overcoat over the dressing gown he went outside to the converted barn that was now his store and found a coil of cotton rope that he’d bought for the sheets of his sailing dinghy. It was soft to the hands but very strong and ideal for restraining a bad tempered woman.
Returning to Sally he bound her ankles but left about 18 inches of rope between them so she could walk with small steps but the hobble wouldn’t allow her to run. Undoing the warp he removed the dressing gown so for the second time since she arrived, except for the moccasins, she was naked before him. “Please don’t do this. Please.” Sally kept begging when Jim bound her wrists in front of her body, fearing she would really be hurt this time and her only hope was appealing to his better nature if he had one. There was little chance of that and she knew it. For once she really had gone too far.
“Perhaps one day you will thank me for what I am going to do but it certainly won’t be today. Maybe you’ll never change and continue to be disliked by everyone. I hope you will but only you can do that. My method of persuasion may or may not work but either way I don’t care. I shall enjoy thrashing you and fucking you afterwards so at least you will give me a little recompense for the pain you’ve caused. Too often you’ve had others totally under your control and have done despicable things to them, now the boot is on the other foot.”
Near the window of the room stood a small woodwork bench. Jim cleared the wooden pole for a new beam trawl he was making, swept the surface and led Sally to it. Sally, now even more fearful, was crying and pleading, promising to be good, promising anything to avoid the punishment that was obviously coming. Punishment she was powerless to avoid. Humiliation she was powerless to avoid.
“You’re wasting your breath, Sal. You deserve what you are going to get and it is going to be a painful experience. Hellishly painful but perhaps afterwards you might find you have learned something from it. You might begin to realise how much you have hurt others over the years. And don’t think I am going to be like some fabled schoolmaster who said, ‘this is going to hurt me more than you, lad,’ as he delivered six of the best. I think I will enjoy seeing the stripes appear on your arse and hearing your screams, then I will know I am getting my payback in full.”
Pushing Sally over the bench he tied her ankles to two of the bench legs and then stretched her arms along the bench top and fastened them. Jim rubbed his hands over the globes of Sally’s arse and along the crack of her cunt. “Nice Sal, cold but nice. But soon they will be much warmer. Perhaps we ought to have some before and after pictures. You’d like a record of the event for later I’m sure.” Sally had no say in the matter. Jim went into the ‘lab’ and returned with a digital camera and took a square on shot of her bare bum with her cuntal charms well displayed. He showed her the result on the screen display. “That’s the before picture,” he said.
“You are probably wondering just what I am going to do to you,” Jim continued. “On the shore at Bencarran Head I said I would pay you back tenfold for the slash across my face so I will put ten slashes with the crop across arse not your face. First though I will give the whole area a good warming with a slipper to punish you for your behaviour in the boat and at table.” Jim removed one of the moccasins from Sally’s feet and brought it down smartly on her bare arse. CRACK!
The pain was intense. Sally screamed. Never in her life had she been punished like this. And it was only the first hit. Others followed in quick succession until both cheeks were on fire. Sally screamed, cried, pleaded. All to no avail.
Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr. “Damn the phone,” thought Jim as he answered it, “I should have turned it off.” “Oh Hello Gertrude. I don’t think your daughter will want to speak to you at the moment. She’s sort of tied up and receiving what you and your husband should have given her years ago…. Yes, I am smacking her, listen.” Jim held the phone out while he brought the slipper down again. An ear splitting yell from Sally confirmed what was happening. “I can’t do that to your daughter? Sorry. I can and I am and I’ve hardly started yet.... No, I won’t permanently harm her but she won’t sit comfortably for a bit. He laid on another swat. What did she do?” Jim listed the catalogue of Sally’s misdeeds. For a few moments there was silence at the other end of the phone and Jim took the opportunity to terminate the conversation. “Look I am going to turn the phone off now. Call sometime after nine tomorrow morning and you can speak to her direct. Bye.”
Jim returned to his task. Soon though he noticed the swats didn’t produce further screams, only prolonged sobbing. Rubbing his rough hands over the tenderised flesh he continued on between her legs until he found her cunt. He felt her flinch as he first massaged and then nipped her clit. Despite the pain her vagina was moist but not wet. Opening his gown, Jim rubbed the head of his hardened cock along her cuntal lips for a few minutes before he slowly pushed his way inside. Sally was very tight. He wondered if she was a virgin but even if she wasn’t she obviously hadn’t had many men. Pushing his way in to the full length of his prick, he decided her virginity had gone, whether by a man or just horse riding he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. 
Stroking his cock in and out of her cunt, he allowed lust to take over. It didn’t matter any longer that she was screaming again. Didn’t matter that with every thrust his body hit her sore arse. He thrust on until he came, rested for a short while and then withdrew. 
Walking to her head end on the bench he touched her lips with the tip of his cock and deposited a small amount of semen on them. He didn’t dare at this stage to put it in her mouth. That would have risked serious injury. She would get a taste of his spunk though. It would humiliate her further.
Reaching for the camera he took a second photo and showed her but the tears blurred the image. 
“Let me up now, please,” Sally sobbed, “I can’t take any more.”
“You can and you will. That was only part one.” Jim went to the entrance porch and removed the riding crop from the peg where he hung it on their arrival. “Part two.” He held the crop in front of the terrified woman’s face.
“Nooo! You’ll kill me.”
Jim laid the first stroke centrally across both arse cheeks. He didn’t dare hit the already tender and swollen flesh too hard. He didn’t wish to draw blood. Still the crop made a satisfying ‘Thwack’ as it landed. He repeated the stroke lower. The next higher until ten strokes crossed the entire arse area. 
Sally thought she should have passed out. How could anyone be so cruel? He was a maniac. She didn’t deserve this, did she? Through her sobbing and screams she heard him say, “That’s part two over. Parts three, four, five and more will be given as and when required.” She couldn’t take any more, she just couldn’t. She would have to kill herself. Why doesn’t he release my now? Her mind was confused. Her arse was so terribly sore and swollen. She had been raped. Why go on living? She closed her eyes to try and shut out the horror; it only heightened her feeling of helplessness. She saw Jim take the camera again. “He’ll gloat over them for years to come,” she thought.
Jim wetted a towel with cold water and laid it over her flaming bum, left it there for a few minutes and then replaced it with another, then a further one. Finally he sat by her head. “Sally, I am going to release you shortly. That is all the punishment you need have for your whole time here, but if your behaviour earns you more then I will not hesitate to give it to you. For the next week you are going to have to come to terms with being a properly behaved, subservient maid. Do you understand?”
Sally nodded, she couldn’t trust herself to speak and waited while he untied her wrists from the bench. They were still bound together and Jim left them that way. She tried to lift he body from the bench but was ordered to lie still while her legs were released from the bench. She did. Having untied her completely from the bench, Jim placed an arm under her breasts and helped her up. 
Sobbing and inwardly still determined to get her own back, Sally moved slowly and painfully when Jim led her to the bedroom. Her buttock muscles screamed with each mincing step. “Is he going to rape me again?” she wondered. Jim laid her face down on the bed and folded a blanket over her bare back and another over her legs to keep her reasonably warm while exposing her fiery posterior to the cool air. “Lie there while I do the dishes, and then I’ll make some tea and bring you a couple of Anadin’s which may help to relieve the pain a little. Actually,” Jim laughed, “It is really your job as maid to do the dishes but I’ll let you off this time.” Impulsively he bent and kissed her cheek.
Bringing in the tea a quarter of an hour later he asked, “Can I trust you to behave if I remove the bindings? Receiving a whispered, “Yes” although she wanted to add “Bastard,” he released her hands and then her feet. Almost immediately she gingerly touched her backside and then looked at her hands to make sure she wasn’t bleeding. 
“I haven’t cut you and there are no marks that won’t disappear in a week or two but it might be a while before you will want to ride Victor,” Jim told her. She took the Anadin’s and drank her tea partially lying on her side. There were still tears in her eyes but the sobbing had more or less ceased.
“You should have let me drown. You would have saved yourself a lot of trouble and I would have died without suffering. No one would have mourned me. No one seems to like me. And all you want me for is for housework and fucking. You don’t want me as a person.” Sally started crying loudly again this time from self-pity as well as pain.
“Sal, do you like yourself?” The question took her by surprise.
“Not really.”
“Perhaps in the morning we should take a look at why you don’t like yourself. If you understand that, then you may well find a way of changing it. I know at the moment you hate my guts and you probably think I hate yours. Oddly enough I believe that underneath that spiteful exterior of yours there is a decent person. One that wants to come out but is being imprisoned by the personality you have built around it.” Sally didn’t believe him but didn’t bother arguing.
“I’m going to do some computer work now, Sal. You can lie here or get up as you wish but you are not to leave the house. It’s dark outside and the paths are dangerous if you don’t know the way. You are free to go anywhere in the house, provided you behave yourself. I don’t think I have to spell out what will happen if you don’t.”
An hour later, Sally got up. She needed to use the loo but had put it off as long as she dared. It would be too painful to sit so she tried supporting herself on her hands. Jim heard the cistern flush and looked at her as she returned to he bed. “Come in here, Sal.” She was shaking as she went to him, half believing she was to be beaten again. “It’s okay, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted a look at your arse. Turn round.” Jim tenderly touched the sore area. “In the bathroom cabinet you will find a large tube of Agriflex. Warm it a little by the fire and then I will put some on for you. It may help to ease the soreness a little. I didn’t equip myself with medication for this sort of situation.”
By the fire he made her lean over the back of an armchair while he knelt behind her. Before applying the cream he kissed her arse cheeks several times and then her cunt. She allowed him to do it without complaint. He cleared the settee and moved it nearer the fire and had Sally lie down where she wouldn’t need covering but would still be warm enough.
Outside the rain fell in torrents driven by gale force winds. There would be no filming or collecting specimens in the morning but he had plenty of inside work that needed catching up on. Looking at Sally lying there with her arse exposed to the air, he wondered how she would sleep that night with the duvet pressing down on it. Suddenly he jumped up and proceeded to find a couple of boards, which he G cramped to the sides of the bed. Draping the sheet and duvet over these would raise them from the bed at the sides and if he slept close, his body would help to minimise the pressure. Sally was somewhat sceptical when he told her and sharply suggested it was more likely he would be on top of her, shagging her silly. “No,” Jim answered, “I shall fuck you before we go to bed so that should see me though until the morning.”
At 10 p.m. Jim toasted bread by the fire and made hot chocolate both things Sally would not have had at Bencarran but here it just seemed natural and fitting. Afterwards he bent her over the armchair again and examined her rear. It was beginning to change to multi-coloured blotches. Sally kept her legs together this time but soon was made to part them. Guessing she could do nothing top stop him she resigned herself to what was coming. Jim kissed her arse again and again gradually working to her cunt lips and thence to her clit. He sucked and teased the nub until, despite not wanting to, Sally became very aroused. Her opening dripped moisture. Inserting his prick, this time with the lubrication and having been opened a few hours before, it went in easily. He fucked her gently, wanting her to get at least a little enjoyment from the experience. Try as she might, Sally could not stop the pleasant sensations that swept through the lower part of her body. Her half suppressed moans were of pleasure rather than pain although when Jim did thrust right home a jolt went right through her body. He tried not to but occasionally both their movements combined and they collided. It took longer this time for him to spurt forth his seed but that only meant more pleasure for them both although if asked, Sally would have denied any pleasure element.
It was a restless night for both of them. Jim did not often have female visitors and a combination of sleeping in a strange bed with a man and having to try and sleep face down kept Sally awake long into the night. Jim slept close to her and for a while put his arm across her back and tickled the side of her breast. Again she tried not to like the sensation but just pretended to accept it. The wind driven rain rattled the windows but she was used to that at Bencarran. 

Chapter 4. To work
Sally awoke from her fitful sleep to the smell of bacon frying. Outside it was still dark and the wind still howled, but the light was on in the kitchen. She pretended to sleep because she didn’t want to show herself or to move the muscles in her arse. Overnight they had stiffened up and it was going to be painful to start them moving again. Unfortunately her bladder told her otherwise. A small cry escaped her lips as she tried to sit up in bed. Jim flipped on the light as he looked in. “Mornin’ Sal. Still tender?”
Sally tried to cover her bare breasts with her arms. She wanted to answer, “Of course they are, bastard!” but bit it back and croaked “Morning” in reply. Jim moved her arms out of the way and kissed her breasts and suckled her nipples. 
“You don’t have to cover them, you know. Your tits are lovely.”
Sally blushed. “Please Jim, I need to...” “Piss,” Jim added. He deliberately used the crudest terms to unsettle the girl, to let her know who was in charge. He kissed her directly on the lips. Sally tried to pull back but Jim placed his hand behind her head. When he pulled away she noticed the scar shaped welt on his face had turned and ugly blue green colour. It looked awful and no doubt was very painful but at least his eye was half-open today. 
“Take a good look at it Sal,” Jim ordered and pointing to his face continued, “This is why you are here. This is why you have a sore arse and this is why you are mine for the next week.” He kissed her full on the lips again then her tits before helping her out of bed. As she walked to the bathroom he noticed the colour of her bum was not too unlike that of his face. “Your arse matches my face,” he quipped. Sally held back the first cutting remark that came into her head and just ignored the comment.
After hearing the toilet flush, Jim walked in the bathroom with a dressing gown for her, found a new toothbrush and showed her how to use the water heater over the sink. “Sorry,” he said, “I’ve only men’s toiletries but no doubt you can make do for the time being. When you’ve finished come out and have breakfast and then we’ll sort out your work for the morning.”
“I can’t work when I am in so much pain! What time is it?”
“About seven. You probably don’t often have your eyes open at this hour.”
“Are you really going to make me work when I am so sore? That’s inhuman. Slavery!”
“It’s no good keeping a dog and barking yourself!”
“Is that what you think of me? Your pet dog? You bast... Ooooowww!” Sally jumped as she felt Jim’s hand connect with her arse.
“No, I don’t think of you as a pet. You’re a person but one who needs some training in the social skills of life. I suspect people have tried being nice to you but you repulsed them. Now, I have a chance to try the punishment way. Really it doesn’t matter to me whether it works or not as long as I get my revenge for what you did to my face. As I said last night, as long as my face is sore, so will be your arse. And for this week you will be my maid, ready, if not willing to serve all my needs. Any misdemeanours will be punished one way or another. Make no mistake about that and don’t expect me to show you any mercy if there is a repetition of yesterday. Instead of being the high and mighty Miss Sally McCraig of Bencarran, here you are plain Sal, the humble servant. However, I do hope that by the end of the week we can at least be friends.” He gave her a hug but she didn’t respond. “Finish your washing and come and have breakfast.”
Over breakfast, the first she had eaten for many months, she noticed her clothing was in the washing machine. “Obviously he doesn’t want me wearing clothes today. Is he going to keep me naked or just allow the dressing gown? Will he fuck me again? Rape me?” She felt she ought to be disgusted but at the same time she was slightly thrilled by the thought.
Like at dinner last night they sat opposite each other. Jim brought a pillow from the bedroom and placed it on the chair but Sally still found it was uncomfortable to sit and lifted herself every few minutes. He placed a mug of tea in front of her. “Do you have coffee?” Sally asked, wondering if she was even allowed to do that. Coffee was all she would normally have for breakfast.
“I think there is half a jar of instant in the back of the cupboard that Janie left. I’ll see if I can find it if you would like.” At least she asked. 
“No, tea will do. I’m not keen on instant coffee.” Who was Janie she wondered but didn’t ask.
Jim watched her. Occasionally as she leant forward and he caught glimpses of her breasts. It caused his cock to harden but he waited until she’d finished her tea before standing and opening his dressing gown. “You first job this morning is to take care of this.”
Sally half expected something like this to happen but couldn’t stop herself resisting. “I’m not your whore!” Almost immediately she regretted the outburst. Jim grabbed her arm and dragged her into the bedroom, stripped off her gown and flung her face down on the bed. Holding her down he said, “You’ve got a choice. Either turn over now and open your legs or I give your arse another warming.” To emphasise he would carry out his threat, he brought his hand down smartly on her sore butt. 
“No, please, please, I beg you. Don’t hit me again.”
“Turn over then.”
Slowly and painfully she rolled over. Jim opened her legs as wide as possible, bent down and started kissing her cunt and teasing and nibbling her clitoris. For the second time Sally couldn’t overcome her desires. Her efforts to just lie there passive and not give him the satisfaction of arousing her went overboard. She writhed under his ministrations, “You bastard, you bastard,” she whispered but for once there was no venom in her voice.
Jim raised himself and climbed on her body ready to insert his rampant cock. Sally cried out as the weight of his body pressed her arse to the bed but she didn’t resist. Indeed she really wanted him inside her although she tried not to show it. He entered and started pounding away, trying to excite her as well as himself. Soon Sally found herself responding and her whispered, “You bastard,” changed to “Oh my God. Yes, yes, yesssss.” It wasn’t long before his seed flooded her womb. They lay there for a while just holding each other, their sweat mingling.
Suddenly Sally had a thought “Was he...?” “Jim? Oh my God! You’re trying to make me pregnant? Is it part of your plan to further punish and humiliate me? To control me?” Her mind began to draw unwarranted conclusions. “Yes, I can see now. You are a real bastard. You make me preggers and everyone will know that I gave myself to you. Or you raped me. That’s it. I’ll just have to scream rape when I get back. If I ever do and you don’t tip me in the sea first...” The words tumbled out in one long stream. Her mind so used to seeing the worst in people thought up the worst possible scenario.
Jim pressed his lips to hers to stifle the words before they increased in velocity and vehemence. Lifting his head he stopped her continuing by placing a finger across her lips. “Sal, yesterday, when I undressed you, you were wearing a panty liner. That means you just finished a period and shouldn’t be fertile for about another week or ten days. Certainly you should be okay for a week. If you want us to continue after then I still have a large box of condoms in the bedside drawer that I bought for Janie’s visit. So no, I am definitely NOT trying to give you a baby. It’s just that having a girl here makes me horny and when she’s naked even hornier, but pregnancy would be too much of an undue complication.”
“Oh God, no!” Sally groaned, “No, no, no!!!”
“What’s wrong now?”
“My period was over a week ago! I could be...”
“But the panty liner?”
“Don’t ask!”
Jim was mystified for a few minutes then asked, “You wear them when you go riding?”
“I said, don’t ask”
“The extra pressure on your cunt stimulates you.”
“I said don’t ask. It’s nothing to do with you.” Sally felt ashamed at being found out but didn’t want to admit it. “You are just trying to humiliate more and more than rub my nose in the muck.”
“No, Sal, that I am not. At least now I know you are not frigid or as sexually cold as you would have everyone believe. You have feelings and that is a good sign. But more importantly at the moment, when exactly was your period.?”
“’Bout a week ago.”
“If that is the case there is a good chance you won’t become pregnant but we will need to take precautions from now on. I’m sorry I didn’t before but I thought there shouldn’t be a problem. You also have two more holes I can try! Come on, its time for you to get up and do the dishes. First though we had better find you some clothes otherwise I will be raping you every five minutes!”
Sally was a couple of inches shorter than Jim and of slender build but they found a pair of trousers she could turn up the bottoms, a shirt and a sweater that, while very baggy, covered her. “I look like a hippie now,” she uttered when she saw herself in the mirror. 
Jim started her working. At first she resented the menial tasks but warmed to it when she found he left her alone and she could think back on the events of the previous day. Twenty-four hours ago she was still in her own bed ignorant of what was to befall her. Now he had given her instructions as though she were a hired help. “As you can see I am not very fussy about tidiness but I do like clean mugs and plates so always wash up after a meal. After you’ve done the dishes, you can clean the eating area but leave all the fishing stuff alone.”
The phone rang soon after nine. “How’s my daughter?” Ian McCraig enquired.
“She’ll be okay.”
“Did you hurt her?” 
“Yes, of course I did. Look, I’ll pass the phone to her and she can tell you herself if she wants to.”
Passing the phone he whispered, “Be polite.”
“Morning daddy. Is mummy on the extension?” Hearing that she was they all exchanged pleasantries and comments on the weather before he asked how badly she hurt. “Let’s just say, I have to think twice about sitting down.” She refused to be drawn further on the matter.
“Has he er er...?” her father asked before she butted in with, “Has he raped me? You should know better than to ask a question like that!” Sally snapped back but when she caught Jim’s eye, she said, “Sorry daddy, but I am old enough now to sleep with a man if I wish to without having to be questioned about it.”
“I still don’t know how you allowed yourself to go to Sula,” Gertrude asked. 
“I had no other real choice, mummy but now I am here I am staying for a week.”
“Why didn’t he bring you home by boat?”
“Weather was too bad but perhaps I’ll tell you more about that later.”
“But why not come back as soon as the wind drops?” Gertrude persisted, “Why wait a week?”
“I promised. I have my reasons. Now if you don’t mind, I must get on, I have work to do. Bye for now.”
“That must be the first time she has ever used that excuse,” her father said to his wife as he put down the phone.
Jim worked in the lab videotaping crab zooea through the microscope. Each time he glanced through to the lounge Sally appeared to be working. She tried tidying up one of the side tables and was puzzled over the many odd pieces of equipment she found. At 10.30 Jim called, “Make us some tea, Sal, please.” Sally did so and took a mug through to the lab for him. For a while she stood fascinated by the peculiar creature that was jerking its way across the computer screen. Without the microscope all she could see was something about the size of a pinhead yet, magnified until it almost filled the screen, it had eyes and peculiar long structures like swords projecting from the front and back of what she termed its head. Jim explained that it was the young form of a crab, which Sally couldn’t believe so he spent the rest of the morning explaining the life cycle of various marine animals to her. He knew she had a love of animals but her interest in such lowly creatures was unexpected. Before they knew it, it was lunchtime.
By then the skies had cleared somewhat although it was still blowing a gale. Jim took Sally to the old boathouse where in the cool he had several marine aquaria set up with brilliant displays of sea anemones, brittle stars and prawns all caught locally. Sally had difficulty in walking not only because of her sore bum muscles but the rock path was slippery and she only had riding boots to wear.
Jim’s attitude seemed to change abruptly when they returned to the house. He curtly ordered Sally to prepare dinner. “There are two pork chops and frozen peas in the freezer and potatoes are in the bottom of the hallway cupboard.” Sally found the items and then looked bewildered. She had little idea on how to prepare food.
“Get on with it girl,” Jim barked, “How do you ever expect to keep a man without being able to feed him? Do you think you will have servants for the rest of your life?”.
Weeping from his onslaught, Sally had to admit not having much idea of preparing a meal. She was very annoyed at his changed attitude. This morning and afternoon he had become friendly. Now he was a tyrant. She was tempted to reply and tell him to cook his own meal but remembered what the consequences might be.
Jim continued to harass and chivvy her throughout the cooking process but in the end they had a reasonably serviceable meal. After which she was ordered to make haste and get dishes done. Teary eyed, she finally finished and poured the water away. 
“Sit here,” Jim ordered. He put his arm around her and said quietly, “Did you enjoy cooking for me?”
She shook her head, no.
“Why?” When she hesitated to reply he added, “You can tell me honestly.”
“You were a bastard. I didn’t know what to do and you kept bullying me. You could have shown me.”
“Sal, could you see yourself in me? How often have you bullied others like that? Your servants? The cook? The few friends you seem to have? Your parents? Do you now see some truth in the adage, ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you?’
Sally hung her head. He was right. But could she change? Did she really want to be nice to others and would they respect her if she was? Part of her wanted to try and that part would have precedence this week because of the fear of another hiding but what would happen when she returned home? They would expect her to be her old objectionable self.
They sat quietly together in front of the fire. Suddenly Sally remembered a question she wanted to ask earlier, “Who is Janie?”
“Janie is or rather was, a sexpot lab technician when I was a manager. I think, in fact I know, she wanted to use her charms to seduce me into promoting her or even marrying. She jumped at the chance of an Easter weekend here on Sula. For the first couple of days we had brilliant weather and she didn’t seem too unhappy but like the other day, a storm came and we were marooned for four days. She was a town girl and quickly missed the amenities and became very bored and miserable at being cooped up here and not even able to go outdoors. She had no interest in my hobby but made up for it with her sexual appetite. She did get promoted but not by me. She actually married the CEO but it didn’t last. She did well out of the settlement though.”
“Did she do it in her other holes?” Sally blushed as she asked.
“Yes. Are you interested in finding out why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve read about blowjobs and anal sex and seen pictures on the Internet but never thought I would even think about doing it except when lying in bed unable to sleep.”
“And you were playing with yourself,” laughed Jim. Again Sally blushed but didn’t deny it. “Sal, I’ve have already eaten your cunt, so a blowjob from you would be nice. Or maybe you would like us to do it together in the 69 position.”
“I don’t know if I want to.”
“Okay, then. Maid! Kneel between my legs.” Jim opened his trousers in front of her. Sally had of course seen and felt his cock before but not this close. Not only could she see it clearly, she could smell its aroma. Jim placed her hands around its shaft and made her gently massage it until it was fully engorged then he guided her head towards it. She knew what she was expected to do and opened her mouth to receive his hardness. It didn’t taste unpleasant so as her confidence grew she sucked more vigorously as he thrust in and out of her mouth. When he stopped thrusting and his cocked spasmed on it own she knew he was going to cum. Did she dare remove her mouth? No, he wouldn’t like that. Too late! His seed was spurting to the back of her throat. Again she noted the taste wasn’t unpleasant. She swallowed and licked the cock clean before he withdrew. 
“Thanks, that was great dear. You sure you haven’t done it before?” Sally assured him it was the first time. “Well I do hope it's not the last,” Jim laughed. 
“Depends on whether you order your live-in maid to do it,” came the reply. She couldn’t understand why this man should sexually stimulate her like he did but decided to just let it happen. For the first time in her life she was letting a man dominate her.

Chapter 5. Home and back
On their fourth day, the wind had calmed to a gentle breeze so immediately after breakfast Jim decided to take the boat to Tarpin and get some supplies. “Do you want to come? If we leave shortly we should have time to drive to Bencarran for lunch and get back to Tarpin around 4 p.m. in time to get the tide back” Sally nodded affirmatively. “I would of course have to trust you not to renege on your promise of a week with me but it would give you a chance to get a few of the things a woman seems to need and some decent shoes and working clothes.”
Sally was not too sure about going home. Her arse was still tender and she had to be gentle about sitting down on a hard chair. Jim’s face was still a dreadful colour but the swelling had gone and both eyes would open. She voiced her opinions and added that Jim was not exactly the flavour of the month with her parents at the best of times. Jim of course knew of their resentment to his grandfather’s purchase of their land. “Look,” he said, “We’ll phone them from Tarpin after we have bought what we need, then we can either go on or come back in the boat.”
On Tarpin quay they joked for a while with some of Jim’s fisherman friends. They were amazed he had the McCraig girl with him. “Whereja pick her up?” one asked. “She fell and my feet on Bencarran Head,” was all they got from Jim. Robert quipped, “Knowing the ladies you bring here, it wasn’t your feet she fell at!” They ragged Jim on his face saying amateur fisherman shouldn’t be allowed to handle real fishing nets but it was all good humoured. Sally, while embarrassed, smiled. 
Roderick from the stores, who knew Jim well and Sally by sight, was somewhat surprised when they came in together. He commented on Jim’s face and once more the tale of a warp snapping and springing back was recounted. He was even more surprised when Sally asked if should could add a couple of items. “I can pay you for them when we get to Bencarran,” Sally said. Roderick agreed to keep the items until they picked them up later. Jim had to visit a couple of ship chandlers for other purchases but by 10.30 they were ready for the half-hour drive to the McCraig’s. “Shall we go or not?” Jim asked, “It’s your decision.”
“Yes, I’d like to get some things from home. I’m getting some funny looks which could be because of I’m wearing your trousers!”
Jim phoned and left a message on the answering machine. Mrs. Simpson must have picked up the message because she greeted them. “Your parents are at the Sutherland’s but I phoned them and they will be back shortly.” Her tone was courteous but cold. “I suppose I shall have to cook lunch now.” Her remarks were directed largely at Sally. Jim stepped forward and for the first time the cook saw his face. “She do that?” she enquired looking again at Sally. Sally hung her head and cook knew she was right. 
“Just a little accident.” Jim shrugged off the comment. “Sal, lets go to the kitchen and make some tea and you can help cook prepare something to eat until your parents get here.” 
“If you don’t mind Sir, I would rather not have her in the kitchen,” Cook piped up.
“Mrs. Simpson, Kathrine, we WILL go into the kitchen and Sally WILL make tea and WILL help prepare lunch. Just tell her where things are and what to do. Please. She will not cause any trouble.”
There was authority in his voice and Cook knew she had to concur so she just snorted in a ‘I’ll believe that when I see it’ way. On the way, Jim whispered to Sally, “Behave yourself.”
In the kitchen, Kathrine started to fill the kettle but Jim stopped her, “Sally is in training as a maid all this week, she will do it. Please just tell her where things are. She is quite able to make mugs of tea, but when it comes to cooking, then its another matter, isn’t that so Sal?”
Sally remembered her burnt efforts at poaching salmon the previous evening and turned away. When the kettle was on, Sally went to sit on one of the high wooden stools forgetting to sit gently and got up again rather quickly. Jim and Kathrine laughed, Sally scowled. 
“Go ahead Sal and tell Kathrine how you could poach salmon to a cinder.”
“Please Jim, don’t embarrass me like this. You know Mrs. Simpson does excellent poached salmon. My efforts weren’t quite up to her standard, that’s all”
“What did you do wrong?” Kathrine enquired.
“I started cooking the salmon before the potatoes and forgot to check on it. So it was quite dark and burned by the time I looked.”
For once, Kathrine smiled. “We’ve all done it dear. There is no cook that has never burnt a dinner. In my first job I nearly burned the whole kitchen down by putting wet chips into the hot oil. The oil bubbled over and caught fire, fire alarms went off, the brigade came and quickly put it out but there was one helluva mess to clear up and we had to send all the customers home. I got sent home too and it was a while before I got another job.”
Sally made the tea and now the ice was broken they all sat round drinking and chatting. Kathrine had never known Sally to be this convivial. It was obvious Jim had taken her in hand and equally obviously had tanned her backside but there was more to it than that. Kathrine was inquisitive. “Look,” she said, “Why don’t we have poached salmon for lunch and I show you how to do it and give you the recipe for the herbs and things I add?” 
Ian and Gertrude arrived. They were not in a good mood. They should have been playing bridge with the Sutherland’s all afternoon but now they had to return, all because of Sally and that Jim Carruthers. Damn the man. Why couldn’t he make an appointment? Damned girl! Always a pain in the arse. Couldn’t even stay away a week like she said she was.
Ian stormed into the drawing room and found it empty. The other main rooms were empty too. Gertrude called out, “They’re in the kitchen. I can hear them laughing.”
“Can’t be them. Sally never goes into the kitchen except to complain and you never hear her laughing.” It shocked them to see the three drinking tea from mugs. Always they and guests had china cups and saucers.
Gertrude ushered the pair into the drawing room but not before Sally has asked, “How long will it be before you start cooking Kathrine?”
“Mrs. Simpson to you,” Gertrude snapped, but Kathrine answered, “About a quarter of an hour.” Gertrude didn’t realise that Sally was to assist with the cooking. She wrongly assumed she wanted to know when they were eating.
For the next fifteen minutes Jim and Sally tried to explain what had happened omitting the sexual details and only when Gertrude bluntly asked did they admit to sleeping together. Ian of course wanted to know how badly his daughter had been hurt. Normally he couldn’t have cared less but having to break from a card game to see the man he detested for owning part of his estate, irked him. On learning she intended to return to Sula to work out her week long term as a maid and despite the fact that Jim had twice saved his daughter’s life and despite knowing life at Bencarran was hell when Sally was there, neither Ian nor Gertrude wanted him to take her back with him. As they saw it, he would just be taking another part of their property. 
Sally flabbergasted the pair when she excused herself to go to the kitchen. For the first time Gertrude noticed she was wearing man’s trousers. They railed at Jim for what he had supposedly done to their daughter but Jim kept his cool and gave very little information away. He tried to explain they had only come so Sally could pick up a few more suitable clothes for the rest of her stay. That is if she decided to return with him. He had given her the choice but had made it clear he would be disappointed if she let him down.
Lunch was quiet and the atmosphere very strained. Jim passed the plates to Sally and indicated she should take them through to the kitchen. Gertrude snapped they had a cook to do that. Jim smiled, “For a few more days we also have a trainee maid.” She returned a few minutes later with a tray with small china cups and a pot of freshly made coffee. “Sorry,” she whispered to Jim as she poured his, “But when in Rome, you do as the Romans do but Kathrine said we could make tea before we go.”
Little was said over coffee but afterwards Gertrude and Ian asked to talk to their daughter alone. Jim adjourned to the kitchen. Ian attacked Sally for her behaviour, which is something he ought to have done twenty years previously but she was adamant that she was returning to Sula and left to get her things. Ian and Gertrude had a quick conference. They couldn’t let their one and only daughter go with that man even if life was more pleasant while she was away. They formed a plan. 
Ian quietly slipped upstairs to Sally’s room. She already had her suitcase packed and was now wearing her walking boots. Sally saw him and said, “It’s no good Daddy, I’m going. It will only be for a few days. I must do what I said I would.” 
When her back was turned Ian quietly slid the key from the inside of the door and replaced it on the outside. “Sally you are going nowhere, at least not with that man.” He spun out of the room slammed the door shut and locked it. She was imprisoned. The thick walls and the oak door would not let much sound through although she did scream and yell at the top of her voice, no one heard.
Ian and Gertrude explained to Jim that Sally had decided to stay and had locked herself in her room so he could not come and get her. She, they said, had decided being a maid wasn’t her thing. She was above that. He was to go without her.
Jim wondered how they had managed to change her mind, but he had given her the option. He was bitterly disappointed. He'd become fond of the girl. They now seemed to get on so well together. Even Kathrine was surprised. They had talked girl-talk during the cooking and she was sure the two made an item. She had her suspicions that something was wrong but couldn’t interfere in a family matter. Jim tried to get the parents to allow him a few words with her but they refused. Jim left the tea that was brewing and walked dejectedly to his car and drove back to Tarpin. Kathrine saw him off. She liked the man and had met him a number of times. Today though, his scarred face did put people off but she knew there was more to it than that with her employers.
Returning to the kitchen she overheard Gertrude ask if he had gone and when Ian confirmed that he had he gave a little laugh. “We’ll keep her locked up a while longer, may calm her down a bit. You know what she is like when she’s really annoyed.”
Kathrine tried to think what they had done to the girl but had to wait until they had settled down in the drawing room before she could get the spare key and slip past them. She could hear Sally crying so she softly tapped on the door. “Go away, you’ve ruined my life now all because of your stupid prejudices.” 
“Sally, its Kathrine. Be quiet while I let you out.” She opened the door. Sally was sobbing. “He’s gone now. I’ll never see him again. He will think I quit on him.”
“Shush, we’ll slip down the back stairs and go to Tarpin in my car.”
They made their way quietly but were met by Ian and his wife at the foot of the stairs. Sally by now was in no mood to be trifled with. Holding the suitcase so it projected outward from her belly, she charged forth with a cry of, “Out of the way you fucking shits.” The suitcase battering ram knocked Ian over and pushed Gertrude to one side. When she was like this they knew from past experience not to try and stop her. She was on a roll now; her temper in charge. Kathrine followed and by the time they had stacked the suitcase in the car boot, Ian came out of the front door. He was too late. They were off. He hadn’t brought his car keys with him. All he could do was shout ineffectually at Kathrine to tell her she was sacked.
For the first six miles Kathrine made good time for someone known for her sedate driving pace but with just four miles to go they found themselves stuck behind a tractor and trailer. The road was far too narrow to pass and there was a steady stream of traffic in the opposite direction. They tried his mobile number but it was switched off. Sally fumed but managed to keep herself under control. She knew Kathrine was doing her best. Fate was against her. When they arrived at the quayside Jim’s boat was gone.
The fishermen she met earlier were still there loading their boat for a night’s fishing. Kathrine asked Josh, the skipper who she seemed to know quite well, if his boat could overtake the Gannet but was told, he was too far ahead and would be in Sula before they hardly started out. “What did your boyfriend go without you then?” he asked Sally. 
Kathrine cut in, “No, the bloody Laird locked her up. We just escaped.”
“Hang on Luv, I’ll see if I can raise him on the radio.” He went to the wheelhouse. “Loch Marie to Gannet, come in please. Loch Marie to Gannet can you hear me?” Gannet can you hear me?
There was a crackling from the set and then, “Gannet to Loch Marie, Josh I can hear you loud and clear. What’s up?”
“Can you slow down and meet up with us? We’re leaving very shortly and you left a couple of packages behind.”
“Thought I got everything,” Jim replied puzzled as he’d checked he’d picked up all the boxes and stuff left in the corner of the stores for him. Still perhaps there were others he missed. He hadn’t packed them himself. “Okay Josh. See you shortly. Thanks. Over and out.”
Twenty minutes later they rendezvoused. Josh made Sally sit below in the cabin until they were alongside. He threw the suitcase over and said there was another item down below. He signalled Sally to come up and helped her across to the Gannet. For a moment Jim just stood in shock, then gathered her in his arms and kissed her. Loch Marie’s crew cheered as they veered away. “Welcome aboard, Sal, glad to have you back.” 
Jim picked up the microphone and called Josh. “Thanks boys. I owe you one.”
Josh came back. “You almost let that fish get away. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”
*******
Back in front of the fire Sally told the full story of her imprisonment and escape. “Looks as if poor Kathrine will lose her job over me.” Sally was distressed. For all the years she had lived in Bencarran, Mrs. Simpson had more or less been the enemy. Today, she had been a saviour. 
Jim phoned her and at first got the answer phone but when he spoke she picked up the receiver. “Sorry,” she said, “I thought it might be the Laird giving me the sack again. He’s left two messages to that effect on the machine now.”
Kathrine we both just wanted to thank you for what you have done. We are very sorry to hear that you have lost your job over us and perhaps I can make a little payment into your account for loss of work.” Kathrine insisted he did nothing of the sort. “It was worth it to see that banshee from hell knocking old Ian down and shoving Gertie out of the way in her efforts to get out. You’ll have to watch out if you raise her ire lad. Still you found that out already.” She laughed. “Can you put Sally on? Sally, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve burnt another dinner. While you were upstairs I put a brace of pheasants in the oven and they should have been turned down low two hours ago. I doubt if Gertie’s been in the kitchen to do it. They’ll find out when the fire alarm starts! Look after yourselves and if you need any cooking lessons then come and see me. Wouldn’t be surprised if I get asked back to the house before long. They have sacked me several times before.”
Jim pulled Sally to him. “From what Kathrine said and what you told me it seems as if you went totally berserk when you tried to escape. You know what I said I would do if it happened again.”
“Yes, but there were mitigating circumstances this time. Perhaps it should just be a bare bum, bare hand spanking. Please not the riding crop.” 
“I agree.” Jim pulled her trousers down and playfully slapped her still colourful buttocks a few times before opening his flies, putting on a condom and giving her a welcome home fuck.

Finis