Beatrice d'Lisle

Synopsis

Domineering Lady Beatrice d'Lisle insists her maid accompany her to London by ship. Unfortunately they board the wrong ship and their roles become reversed.

Beatrice d’Lisle

by obohobo

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

FF MF NC

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, etc.

Copyright 2001

Chapter 1. Early days

"So Emma, you refuse to accompany me to London," barked Lady Beatrice d’Lisle. The swish and thwack of the cane accompanied the statement as it landed on the quivering buttocks of the maid strapped over the ottoman. Smiling to herself, she watched the stripe redden and the welts begin to rise. It formed a line across both cheeks broken in the centre by the arse crease. The stripes of an earlier caning were still faintly visible and she knew Emma’s bum was still tender. It was just a week ago, the young buxom maid had been chastised over the same chest.

"Arhh! Sorry, M’lady, I didn’t want to leave my boyfriend for such a long time and go so far away." Emma stuttered a reply. However, Beatrice knew the real reason. The maid hated her. She hated the canings she received, she hated what her mistress made her do. She wanted a man to make love to her, not a woman.

"Don’t lie, girl, I’ve heard you talk to the other girls saying how much you would like to get away from this place." Beatrice punctuated the sentence with another two strokes of the cane. Emma cried out but that only resulted in a fourth stripe.

"I know why you didn’t want to accompany me. You thought that while I was away, the master would let you sit around doing nothing. Well, if I go without you, then you may be sitting around doing nothing.... at the hovel you call home with that drunken uncle of yours. Which is it to be? Pack your bags and come with me or pack your bags and leave altogether? Just because you have a bit more education than most girls and can speak a few words of kraut, doesn't mean you'll get much of a job in these parts."

By now there were eight welts across Emma’s arse and she was sobbing hysterically. Her pleas for mercy, as she knew they would, fell on deaf ears. She also knew she had no real choice; she had to go with her ladyship. At least she would be clothed and fed and receive a few pennies into the bargain. Punishments for minor infringements of her duties had to be accepted, as did the woman to woman lovemaking. It wasn’t something talked about in the best of circles but everyone knew it went on, indeed it was the main reason for Beatrice wishing to go to London. Lady Penelope Merryfield had invited her down to the city with the promise of some lady sport and being introduced to some of the society residents in London during the ‘season’.

Under the threat of further punishment for her ungracious behaviour, sobbingly Emma agreed to accompany Beatrice as her maid. "Perhaps I can escape and get a better job in London," she thought. On hearing her agreement, Lady Beatrice threw the cane on to a nearby chair and studied the livid stripes running across the plum backside. Fingering and squeezing the tender flesh, she smiled with satisfaction. The stripes were all parallel across both cheeks and were going to be tender for a very long time. She loved to mercilessly thrash the girls and the boys under her control. She loved the power she had over them. They were just servants, there to do her bidding.

Beatrice rubbed her hands over both arse cheeks and then slipped one between Emma’s thighs. From previous experience Emma knew to open her legs and give her mistress access to her private parts. Her mistress inserted a finger into her vagina and then nipped her clitoris between thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation but Emma just wanted to be out of the room and to be able to put cold water on the fiery stripes.

Beatrice though, had other plans. Releasing Emma, Beatrice sat on a chair. She lifted her dress and under garments. "Wipe your eyes girl, I don’t want you wetting my dress. Then put your mouth to better use than refusing to do what you are requested."

Emma crawled to her mistress and placed her mouth upon the offered cunt. It was already wet with her sexual juices. Emma lapped at them. Her tongue probed the opening and lapped at the moisture. Beatrice held the girl tightly to her cunt. The caning had stimulated her and she needed release and this girl’s tongue was going to give it to her. Emma plumbed the vagina entrance with her tongue and sucked on the clitoris bud as she had been taught. Under her maid's ministrations, Beatrice began to writhe as the climax approached and then gave a load groan as it overwhelmed her. The pair were still for a minute or two and then Beatrice kicked the maid away. In doing so Emma fell back and sat down hard on the wooden floor. She cried out in pain but hard hearted Beatrice, only told her to stop making a fuss. "You should be thankful you are not looking for another job without any references," she added. "We leave in the morning so make sure you are up to get me ready."

*******

Emma started work as a cook’s assistant at the isolated mansion in Northumberland when she was seventeen years old. This was older than most but her grandmother had insisted on her being educated and paid for her to stay at school. Her grandmother was born in Germany and had been brought from her homeland thirty years previously. When Emma’s mother had died she took her in and raised her. Emma’s grandfather spent a good deal of time abroad and unfortunately was killed in a tragic coach accident in France when Emma was twelve years old. Her grandmother was inconsolable at her loss and unfortunately died five years later. At her death most of her money went to other relatives and Emma had to look for work. In the wild moorland areas there was little but farm work or in house service. However, being bright and able to read, Emma was soon transferred to housemaid duties. Six months ago she caught the eye of her mistress who decided this delectable girl would make her a good personal maid. It was then Emma’s life changed for the worse. Now she was subjected to severe punishments at the whim of her mistress and she had to tend to Beatrice’s personal needs. Now at eighteen years old, she was hoping to find a man to marry and get her out of this situation but she only had one day off a month to see the boy she knew from her school days and he was only a farm labourer. The men around the house were either taken or in no better situation that she. They wouldn’t be able to afford to marry her and take her away.

Beatrice was spoilt at as a child. Her mother knew she should never be able to have another child. The delivery of Beatrice had been particularly difficult and the doctor had advised against further children. Never-the-less, six years later she unfortunately conceived. Again delivery was extremely difficult and the baby died a few hours after birth. Her mother became depressed and her health deteriorated until after six months she too died.

Lord Henry d’Lisle doted on his daughter and gave her everything she wanted. It amused him to see her at only eight years old, try to take charge of the servants and order them about. This encouraged her and over the years she became more and more domineering and delighted in punishing those in her charge. Lord Henry thought it would be something she would grow out of but he was often away and the servants had orders to obey her as they would him. The staff more and more grew to fear her. In any case, Lord Henry too liked beating his staff, especially the females, and he would often encourage his daughter to punish one or other of his servants for him.

Beatrice had a particular reluctance to accept men as being superior to her and did all she could to reduce their dominance. This was the eighteenth century when women were always expected to acquiesce to their male counterpart but Beatrice did all she could to prove herself their equal. The sex act particularly galled her. Even at a young age she had witnessed men and women copulating. She noted how the woman always seemed to be on her back and pinned down by the man while he thrust into her with brutal severity. It was the same with the farm animals. Always the male forced its way into the female and held her until he finished. Beatrice was determined that wasn’t going to happen to her.

In her thirteenth year she was wandering past some of the farm hands that were haymaking. One young fellow new to the farm called out to her, "Look what we have here. A nice young bitch comes to keep us company. Howd’ya like what I’ve got to give ya?" His hand cupped his crotch. One of the other lads hissed at him to hold his tongue but her kept up his jeering comments.

Livid with anger, Beatrice ordered the foreman to tie the lad’s hands to the branch of an overhanging tree. Despite some struggling, the lad who had come down from Scotland to find work and whose name she learned was the generic ‘Jock’ was soon suitably fastened. Jock, still truculent, continued to bait her with his comments. "What are you going to do now miss? Spank me? With that little hand it should tickle!"

Beatrice turned to the other lad whom she knew by name, she ordered, "Henry, go to that hedge and cut me a switch." Minutes later he returned with a small branch. Jock laughed, "You are going to tickle me!"

Angry now almost beyond reason, she ordered Henry to cut a proper switch "One at least this long." She spread her arms to indicate about 4 feet. "And make sure it is good and whippy or I’ll use it on you as well." Henry went pale but hurried off and returned with an osier somewhat longer than she requested. He spent a short time whittling the leaves from it before handing it to Beatrice. "Yes, that seems better," she murmured as she swished the rod through the air. Her anger began to dissipate as the sense of power she had from wielding the rod grew. "Bend over Henry, I want to test this rod you’ve brought."

Henry knew better than refuse. Refusal of a punishment always resulted in worse. He bent down and displayed his buttocks while wondering if he would be allowed to keep his breeches on. The answer came as the rod cracked across his arse. "Argh!!" he yelled and almost stood up before returning to the punishment position.

"Seems a suitable rod, Henry. Now go and remove Jock’s breeches and we’ll see what it does to his bare bottom."

As the centre of attention, Beatrice was now in her element. Surrounded by the men and women of the haymaking group, she set about humiliating Jock as much as she could. She would make him pay for his remarks. Henry lowered Jock’s breeches and then was ordered to tuck the shirt out of the way so he was completely bare from the waist to the knees. Jock was silent now. He realised he had gone too far and should have heeded Henry’s advice. Beatrice, he now knew was the Master’s daughter and literally the whip hand around the place.

Taking her time and calming herself, Beatrice walked around the tethered boy only a few years older than herself. She smiled when she saw his cock was semi-erect but made no comment. Quietly swishing the osier in the air as if getting the feel of it, she twice made a circuit around Jock. "Not so much to say now have we, my man?" she mocked the boy as she passed in front of him. The sight of the lovely young girl caused Jock’s cock to rise still further but Beatrice appeared to ignore it until suddenly turning she swung the cane viciously down across the end of his manhood and then brought it smartly up again. Jock yelled at the top of his voice and several of the onlookers cried out too but the two strokes had the desired effect and the cock almost immediately deflated.

"First you are rude to me, and then you have the audacity to show off your cock in front of me and all these others. I'm not a child and I do not take kindly to that sort of behaviour as you will now find out." Standing behind and to one side of the boy she proceeded to crack the rod across his buttocks. She laid them on in an unhurried way and, although as yet not too experienced especially with a moving target that was only held by wrists tied above the head, managed to keep most of the strokes parallel with each other and fairly evenly spaced. Starting at the top of the taut cheeks she whipped a dozen strokes on the naked flesh ending with a couple of stripes across the top of the thighs.

Jock tried not to scream as he took the first stroke. He heard the swish and then felt the searing pain fire into his arse. He cried out at the second stroke and yelled and sobbed at each one that came after. He begged and pleaded but Beatrice was intent on making an example of him and showed no mercy. Indeed she felt so alive and drugged by the power she had and the ability to inflict pain, she couldn’t have stopped if she had wanted to.

After applying the dozen strokes Beatrice walked in front of the now sobbing and crying lad. "Do I get an apology now?" she asked.

"Sorry, M’lady." Jock could hardly speak for the pain.

"Well I suppose that will have to do for now." Beatrice turned to the foreman, "See he does his normal work for the rest of the afternoon and then bring him back here and fasten him again so I can inspect his bottom to see if he is sufficiently punished or whether he needs more. I shall also expect a proper apology then." Turning to Henry she ordered him to place the rod in a damp place so that it might be ready if required later and then ordered Hilda, a girl of her own age, to come and fetch her when they had their tea. With that she walked away.

As ordered, Hilda went to the kitchen at teatime and one of the maids informed Beatrice that Jock was again tied and ready for her inspection. Deliberately waiting for fifteen minutes, Beatrice leisurely strolled to the haymakers. Jock had been hanging there for over half an hour and his arms were very tired. His arse still hurt like hell and although the foreman hadn’t been hard on him, he had made him try and work. "If she comes and finds you not doing your share, then we’ll all catch it as well," he told the lad. The hot sweaty work in the sun, caused the breeches to chafe badly on the raw skin and the whole area was now very inflamed. In fact it was a relief to have his breeches removed ready for the inspection. Some of the girls taunted him by asking if he was going to get hard again when her ladyship arrived but most showed sympathy but dared do nothing to ease the pain at this stage.

"Has he worked this afternoon?" Beatrice asked the foreman. Old George knew better than to lie. "He did what he could, M’lady but of course swinging a scythe isn’t easy when your backside muscles don’t work."

"But you did make him do it?"

"Yes. M’lady."

"Good. Now lets have a look." Even she was somewhat surprised by the state of Jock’s bottom but she tried not to show it. She felt the flesh and gave one of the cheeks a squeeze that caused Jock to jump and howl. Walking in front of him she noted his soft cock and then said, "Have you anything to say to me boy?"

Jock would have liked to have said many things but the others had briefed him to beg most humbly for forgiveness and to say how sorry he was for causing her such annoyance. "Well there are plenty more canes and I will willingly use them if you haven’t learned your lesson," Beatrice snapped. "George, make sure he finishes his day’s work here and that he does a proper days work tomorrow." She gave the orders with authority that belied her thirteen years.

Chapter 2. At the Hunting Lodge

Sir Richard Merryfield invited Lord Henry and his daughter to his hunting lodge for a party. By day the group would be out stalking deer and the evening spent in merry making. He was bringing his daughter Penelope and asked if Lord Henry would bring Beatrice to keep her company. Beatrice was now fourteen and Penelope a year older. Although the lodge was large by normal house standards, it didn’t have enough rooms for the two girls to have separate bedrooms. They had to share the large four poster bed on the top floor, supposedly well away from the goings on in the rooms below.

Penelope, (she refused to answer to the shortened version of her name), was a well-built, outward going girl. She, like Beatrice, kicked against authority but unlike Beatrice, she did it in a more carefree way. Instead of head to head refusal, she used her womanly wiles and clever argument to get her way. The two girls met at lunch on the first day and took to each other immediately. This surprised Beatrice as never before had anyone been a friend to her. Always the girls she played with at home were servants and therefore she was always in charge of what they did. Penelope was an equal.

In the afternoon they saddled a couple of ponies and went riding. On their return, Penelope showed Beatrice the loft above the stables where she often played as a child. Signalling for Beatrice to be quiet they crept along in semi-darkness to one end. They could hear subdued voices and giggles. Peering through knotholes in the floor, they watched the scene below as one of the scullery maids stripped a groom of his clothing. She laid the naked boy on the bed of straw, opened his legs wide and began masturbating his hard prick. "Lie still," the maid commanded as the boy tried to sit and grab at her. Continuing with her task, the maid first stroked gently and then vigorously pushed the boy’s foreskin back and forth. Groans from the groom showed he was nearing a climax. Again he tried to rise and grab the girl by her breasts but was pushed back to the bed. This time though the girl stopped working on his cock and placed her mouth over its head.

"ARRRRHHH!!!" screamed the boy. The watching girls knew the maid’s teeth had clamped down on his manhood.

"I told you to lie still and I would do the work," the maid said, "Now lie still. We’ll do this my way or not at all." She opened her mouth and released his cock. Deep teeth marks showed on the shaft and a trickle of blood ran down it. The pain caused the cock to soften but despite it soreness, under the maid’s ministrations, it became erect again and not long after sperm erupted from its tip which she promptly massaged into the surrounding pubic hair.

"Now you will service me." Baring a breast, she offered it to the boy’s mouth. Eagerly he suckled it. To the teenage observers, it was obvious the girl was becoming aroused and it was having an effect on them too. Penelope lifted her skirts and fingered herself. Beatrice felt like doing it but was unsure of doing it in front of a girl she had only met hours before.

Quite suddenly, the maid lifted herself, raised her skirts and lowered her crotch on to the groom’s face. From above the two girls could only imagine what was happening. They could tell the maid was grinding her crotch on the boy’s face and her orders such as, "Put you tongue in further." "Suck harder," and "Harder, harder," gave them a very good indication of what the boy was doing. Soon the girl must have cum as she gave a little cry and then was still for a few minutes.

Slowly she raised herself, adjusted her dress and said, ""I’d better get back afore they miss me." She gave the boy’s prick a squeeze and left the room. The boy studied his sore prick for a few minutes before he dressed and left the room.

Penelope and Beatrice made their way back to their bedroom in the lodge, threw themselves on the bed and began talking about the scene they had witnessed. Penelope was no longer a virgin and had enjoyed several nights in bed with various boys as well as casual fucks. Beatrice voiced her fears about men dominating women and related what she had done to Jock and some of the other sights she had seen. In turn, Penelope revealed she was adept at voyeurism and had spent long hours at the spy holes above the grooms quarters. Often when a boy was alone in the room he would just wank himself but quite often a group would do it together ... "And two of the boys do it in each others bottoms."

"That must hurt," Beatrice commented.

"Doesn’t seem to, and I’ve seen some women take it up their arse too but I haven’t tried it. The ones I’ve seen cry out at first but then seem to enjoy it. Many of the maids and girls on the kitchen staff do it together. Do you do it with any of your maids?" When Beatrice shook her head negatively, Penelope went on, "You should try it especially with some of the younger ones that you can order to do anything you want. Then you can have them just for your enjoyment and not worry about their pleasure. You have done it with a girl?" Again Beatrice shook her head. "We’ll do it tonight after we have spied on the party for a bit but I don’t expect we will see that much, the only women here are the servants. Still no doubt some of them will be getting fucked."

Dinner that evening was a boisterous affair with most of the men drinking more than they should and taking liberties with the serving girls. However, nothing really untoward happened until after the girls were ushered to bed by their fathers. The pair waited for half an hour before Penelope led the way down a series of passages mainly used by the servants to the old minstrel gallery that overlooked the main hall. They had to crawl along the dusty floor so as to keep below the panelled partition to the gallery and then by lying on the floor were able to look through the 4 inch gap under the panels to see clearly the activities in the hall below.

The scene was much as it was when they left except that one of the guests had a maid in a corner alcove and was fondling her breasts. One tit was fully exposed and the pair could see the guest massaging a nipple. A sudden crash caused them to look towards the servant's entrance. It appeared that one of the girls carrying a tray of wine filled glasses had her bottom pinched hard enough for her to falter and lose her balance causing the glasses to smash on the floor. For a few seconds there was silence soon broken by the crying of the maid and her pleas for forgiveness.

Sir Richard took charge of the situation. After telling two other girls to clear up the mess, he ordered the luckless and sobbing girl to the centre of the room. She had a good idea of what to expect by way of punishment and wasn’t relishing the prospect especially as it seemed inevitable that it would be carried out in front of the assembled guests. Beckoning to the couple in the corner he called out, "Ralph, bring the wench here. We need someone to clear a space on this table." To the girl now trying to tuck her breasts back into her dress he added, "No, don’t put them away. Leave them both on show. No need to hide such delectable charms."

"What’s your name girl?" Sir Richard enquired of the sobbing maid.

"Maria, Sir. I’m sorry Sir. Someone pinched my bum and I lost me balance."

"No need to be sorry, Maria. Your action has provided us with the incentive for tonight’s entertainment." Maria could now imagine the worst and started sobbing again. "And there is no need to start wailing until you are hurt Maria. So shut up for the moment. You will have plenty of cause to wail later."

By now the bare breasted maid had cleared the end of the table and was about to retire out of the way when Sir Richard again stopped her. "Don’t run away lass. We’ll need you to help with the entertainment. Start by undressing Maria - and make a good show of it. I want all our guests to have a hard on by the time you have finished. If not you’ll have to help with their amusement. So er…?"

"Madeleine, Maddy Sir."

"So Maddy, get on with stripping her as provocatively as possible."

Unexpectedly Maddy began to sing in a clear, pleasant voice and in time with her tune, started unlacing Maria’s bodice making sure the breasts were made to bounce and as soon as they were open to view she flicked the nipples and caressed the orbs. All the men stood or sat in a semi-circle around the pair and clapped in time with the singing. Gradually more and more naked flesh was brought to light until with a final flourish Maddy whipped away the last garment to show Maria’s cunt to the audience. Maria blushed scarlet and kept trying to hide her charms with her hands but Maddy kept moving them like a hide and seek game to make each revelation seem more erotic.

Sir Richard still clapping said, "Well done Maddy, very well done. Give her a glass of wine someone. Now let’s deal with is clumsy wench." He led Maria to the table, bent her over the end and had two of the guests hold her wrists. From where they lay on the floor of the minstrel gallery, Beatrice and Penelope had a good view of the girl. They were above and slightly past the end of the table. Maria’s bum shone white in the candlelight. It wouldn’t be white for long though.

Removing his leather belt, Sir Richard wrapped one end around his fist and swung the other in a long arc to connect loudly with the exposed buttocks. A hoarse cry came from Maria which only brought forth murmurs of approval and words of encouragement for Sir Richard to continue. He did. Again the belt struck leaving a second broad stripe across the poor girl’s arse and eliciting a further cry and sobs.

After six strokes the stripes had begun to merge into one broad band of painful fire. Sir Richard stopped for a few moments to feel and squeeze the girls bum cheeks. "Ah yes, they’ll take some more warmth yet wench," he said as he swung the belt again, "You will surely remember tonight’s accident." Sixteen strokes later, when the girl was beginning to show signs of not feeling the full effect of the battering, Sir Richard put down the belt and opened his breeches and allowed his hard prick access to the air. Penelope in her previous voyeuristic escapades had seen it before but to Beatrice it seemed unusually large. Larger than any she, with her limited experience, had seen.

Without warning, Sir Richard thrust it deeply into the girl and proceeded to fuck her with great gusto. The other guests cheered him on and soon it was obvious to all that he had cum within her. Calling for Maddy again her ordered her to clean him up. Immediately she bent down and took the deflated manhood in her mouth and began sucking it with what seemed relish.

While his cock was being cleaned, Sir Richard called to Lord Henry to take his turn with the wench still held to the table. Lord Henry’s weapon was slightly smaller than his friend's was but nonetheless still of goodly size and he too thrust into the luckless girl. Beatrice saw her father’s cock in its erect state for the first time and wondered what it would feel like in her hand. Watching her father fuck the girl she felt mixed emotions. On the one hand she delighted in seeing the girl punished but on the other she didn’t like seeing a girl dominated by a man, even when the man was her father.

The pair of teenagers watched two more men fuck Maria and then Penelope whispered "I’m horny. Let’s go to our bedroom." Beatrice nodded in agreement and they crept back unseen. "Let me undress you," Penelope asked, "And you can do the same for me."

"Shall we do it like Maddy did?" Beatrice replied. In the end though they both took the clothing off as fast as they could. Even without any previous experience of womanly love, Beatrice was very excited at the prospect and as she removed Penelope’s clothing, felt the moisture in her sex flowing freely. Penelope pulled her friend’s now naked body to her and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Beatrice responded. Soon the pair were sucking each other's breasts and gradually the kissing and sucking moved downwards to the sex organs. It wasn’t long before the pair were rolling on the bed in the classic sixty-nine position, lapping at each other’s juices. Beatrice was on an all time sexual high. Never had she felt so stimulated and she climaxed several times before they finally clasped arms around each other and went to sleep.

******

Swish! The curtains were thrown back and sun poured through the bedroom window but was held back by the near closed drapes surrounding the four poster bed. Beatrice peered out and saw Maria walking stiffly towards the opening with a breakfast tray.

"Morning, Misses. The master said to bring some breakfast up to your room. The men have all gone out early to do a spot of hunting." She put the tray on a stool by the bed. "Will you require anything else Misses?"

Penelope put her head around the drapes. "Yes, Maria there is something else. We wish to have a closer look at your bum." The request startled Maria. How did they know about her thrashing? How did they know her name? This was the first time she had met them.

"Miss?"

"We want to see what your bum looks like this morning so bend over the end of the bed and raise up your skirts." Penelope further enumerated her request.

"But Miss?"

"Do I have to complain about your behaviour to the master when he returns? I’m am sure he wouldn’t treat that lightly. What do you think?"

"No, Miss."

"Then do as I say."

Maria went to the foot of the bed and slowly tied the drapes back before bending over the footboard and very carefully lifted her skirts. Beatrice and Penelope, both still naked, ran to that end of the bed and looked closely at the bruised arse. Gently they touched the sore flesh and Maria jumped in anticipation of further pain. "It’s alright Maria, we are not going to hurt you - unless of course you do not cooperate with us. Now just open your legs nice and wide." Maria opened her legs a little more and then further still after receiving a smack on her inner thighs from Penelope.

"Isn’t that a nice tender bottom, Beatrice?" Penelope and Beatrice both fingered the very tender backside and then Penelope inserted first one and then two fingers into Maria’s vagina. She pulled them out and smelled the stickiness. "You’ve still plenty of man-juice up there, Maria. Did they all have you last night?" She held her fingers to Beatrice’s nose. Maria remained silent under a gentle smack reminded her of the question.

"All except one Miss. He was more keen to get into Maddy’s hole."

"So nine men had you? Without a break?"

"Yes, Miss."

"How many went twice?"

Two Miss."

"So you were well and truly fucked. You should have enjoyed having all those nice rich men’s cocks up you."

"No Miss. I was too sore. Can I go now Miss."

"Stay where you are. Beatrice and I want our pleasure too." Penelope put her face to the open cunt and started to lick and suck.. "Mmm. That’s nice. I like a nice cunt when several men have used it. What do you think Beatrice?" Beatrice then placed her tongue in the opening and savoured its contents. They could tell that despite the pain, Maria was beginning to respond to their laving. Alternately one and then the other girls sucked and tongued Maria’s pussy until she unashamedly responded by grinding her hole in their faces. With a small cry she came.

"You enjoyed that Maria, didn’t you?" The maid was unable to deny it. "Well then you must return the favour. First we will eat our breakfast and then you will return her with a pail of hot water and give us both a good all-over wash and afterwards bring us both to a climax."

A little later each girl stood in a small enamel bowl while Maria washed her from head to toe. She was made to pay special attention to the girl's breasts and to their pussy area. She dried each carefully and waited until first one and then the other laid themselves face up on the bed with their legs hanging over the edge. Both girls were really horny. Over breakfast they had talked of the events of the previous evening and this morning. Now they were ready for more.

"I need to piss." Beatrice remarked, deliberately using the crudest term for this bodily function.

"Just lie where you are and Maria will hold the piss-pot under you, won’t you Maria." Knowing she had no choice Maria just nodded and looked for the pot under the bed. It was already part filled.

"Can you just slide forward a little, please Miss, then I can get the pot under enough not to wet the sheets." Beatrice did as she was asked and then felt the cold rim of the pot touch her bottom. It took a few moments before she was able to start the flow going but then poured forth a continuous stream. In her lying position, the pee did not clear her body and ran down the crease in her arse and over her arsehole before running into the pot. Beatrice quite liked the sensation of the warm liquid running down her bottom. Penelope sat up and watched as Maria kept the pot in position. The flow finally ended with a series of small spurts and dribbles and Maria was able to put the pot down.

"Lick her clean," Penelope ordered. Maria hesitated until Penelope continued, "You know you have to. Either you do it now or you do it after my riding crop has striped your arse further." Maria put her face into the wet crotch and started licking. She began where the piss finished dripping and worked her way up over the arsehole and then the cuntal area. Penelope ordered her to start the licking again and when she came to the brown rosebud made her insert her tongue right inside as far as it would go. Beatrice was now very horny but still hadn’t climaxed. She grabbed Maria’s ears and forced her to suck her clit really hard until she cried out with relief.

"What did my piss taste like?" Beatrice enquired of the maid.

"It’s not too bad, Miss. Not as bad as when I have to do it for one of the masters. Sometimes they will be just sitting down and one of us maids will have to kneel between his legs, take his cock all the way in our mouth and drink it all down. I’m sometimes sick after that."

"You haven’t tasted piss before then Beatrice?" Penelope asked.

"No, never."

"Well we’ll remedy that in a minute. My turn for a piss Maria." Penelope lay back and opened her legs as far as she could. Maria placed the near full pot in position and while she and Beatrice watched, Penelope started peeing. The piss stopped. Maria licked but not with any enthusiasm. Her tongue hardly touched the wet area.

"Beatrice, get one of my slippers and lift her skirts and wallop that arse of hers. Do it hard." Beatrice didn’t need a second bidding. Before Maria could do very much her skirts were again over her back and the slipper was descending fast and furiously on the already sore and tortured arse.

"I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it! Please stop! Please!!" Penelope caught the lust light that appeared in Beatrice’s eyes as she brought the slipper down on her helpless victim. She put this together with the stories told last night of how she had thrashed Jock and other servants and knew that in Beatrice she did indeed have a kindred spirit. Someone she could share her delights in causing suffering to those under her.

Maria’s face was now tight against Penelope’s crotch. She had licked the arsehole area clean and now waited with open mouth for the remainder of her mistress’s piss. She didn’t have to wait long. Penelope let forth a long spurt, then a few dribbles and was done. Maria had swallowed nearly all of it.

"Empty the pot and bring it back, Maria." Maria did as she was told and was then ordered to remove her dress, lie on the bed and perform in the same way as they had. Penelope played with the stream while Beatrice held the pot. This caused the piss to splatter over the girl's tummy and thighs instead of just running down the crease. "There you are Beatrice, you can have a nice large area to lick for your first taste." Not wanting to lose face with her new friend, Beatrice immediately began to tongue the whole area until it was clean. After an initial reaction to the taste she began to enjoy it. "We’ll do it to each other every time we are alone together," Penelope whispered in her ear.

The two girls had Maria help them dress and were nearly ready to go out when heavy footsteps sounded outside the door. A knock. "Come in," the girls called together. One of the older boot boys entered. His jaw dropped when he saw the near naked Maria.

"Yes?" snapped Penelope.

"Miss, I was to ask if you wanted the carriage this morning?"

"No, not today boy," then as he turned to go, she called him back. "Have a good look at Maria boy. Do you like what you see?"

"Er, yes, Miss."

"Good. Take your trousers off."

"But Miss...."

Penelope went to the dresser and picked up her riding crop. "If your trousers are not off when I’ve counted to ten, then it will be ten stripes with this across your bare arse." Swiftly but with outward signs of embarrassment the boy complied. His cock stood out at an angle but wasn’t fully hard.

"Maria, lie on the bed in the same way as you were a little while ago. Legs really wide open."

"Miss, no, please. It was bad enough last night. Please not again." There was a swishing sound and then a scream from Maria’s lips. The riding crop had left a line across the tops of both thighs. Another swish, another yell, another line. Maria moved to lie down but not before a third stripe had appeared.

"Now we want to see in close-up what happens when a girl is raped. Misbehaving servant maids like you need plenty of correction and need to be able to take many men. Bring the boy here Beatrice."

Beatrice gripped the boy by his cock and balls and stood him between Maria’s legs. Gently she massaged his cock until it was fully hard and then Penelope ordered, "Fuck her hard. Really hard. This crop across your arse will help."

As Beatrice aimed the boy’s cock at Maria’s cunt, Penelope struck the boy’s arse viciously with the riding crop. It caused him to violently thrust forward and to enter the cunt with considerable force. Maria cried out in pain. Her vagina was still sore from the previous evening. Having entered the boy needed little further encouragement to fuck the poor girl. Nevertheless his arse received many more stripes with the riding crop before he finally spent his seed.

Beatrice watched intently. She had never seen a man’s prick entering a woman’s cunt so closely. She noticed how slippery it became with the moisture Maria produced and it she seemed to get some pleasure from it even though still tender from the previous evening.

Chapter 3 Using her Power

Returning to her home, Beatrice determined to put to good use many of the things she learned from Penelope. Lord Henry had left for business in Newcastle and she was in charge again. She wanted a girl. A girl to thrash. A girl for sex. Making her way to the kitchen she saw Rebecca, one of the maids, a girl a little younger than herself, sitting and drinking a pot of ale. "Bring a jug of hot water to my room, girl, and be quick about it," she ordered. "And tidy yourself up a bit."

"Yes, miss," was all the frightened girl could answer. She scurried off to get the water and was in Beatrice’s room for some time before her mistress appeared.

"Put the water down, and stand up so I can look at you," Beatrice snapped. Rebecca shook as she was inspected. "Becky, I gave you two orders, one to bring water and the other to tidy yourself up. You ignored my second instruction. You look a mess. Your clothes are all out of place and are dirty. Why have you come here in such a state?"

In truth kitchen girls weren’t given the best clothes because of the dirty nature of their work. Rebecca had tried to rearrange what she had but there was little she could do but she knew better than complain. All she could do was apologise and she did.

"Well, I am not having you in here with filthy smelly clothes on."

"Shall I get one of the chamber maids for you miss?" Rebecca asked hopefully but these hopes were dashed when Beatrice told her, "No, just strip those filthy things off you and leave them outside the door." She watched the young girl take off all her clothes and when she hesitated at the last vestiges of cloth that covered her modesty she sharply ordered the girl to continue.

"Stand up straight and let me look at you. At least your are fairly clean under those rags." In fact Beatrice was more interested in the half-formed breasts and pubic area sparsely covered with dark hair. Walking around the now somewhat terrified maid, Beatrice squeezed her bottom. "Yes, girl, you do well to be afeared. These white bum cheeks will be red before long. Your behaviour so far has earned you a good hiding and there will me more, much more, if you do not service me fully and properly. First though, you will help me undress and then wash me."

Hesitantly Rebecca did as she was ordered. Carefully she washed Beatrice’s face and back then started on the front. She wasn’t sure whether she should handle her mistress’s tits but obviously had to. Carefully she rubbed the warm flannel over the mounds until, "No! You don’t put the flannel on the nipples. Cleaning them is a job for your mouth and tongue."

"Mistress?"

"Oh, you useless girl! Can’t you do anything you are told?"

"Sorry Miss."

"You will be. Come over to the bed." The bed was a Jacobean style oak four poster with thick, carved uprights. Beatrice took one of the cords that held the drapes back, made a loop with it around Rebecca’s wrists and then fastened them as high as she could to a post. "Well, Becky, it looks like the time has come to teach you to obey instructions. Let’s see what a good thrashing does. It seems as if the kitchen staff have been far too lenient with you." From a cupboard she produced a leather belt some eighteen inches long and three inches wide with a handle, a bundle of birch twigs in a pot, and a riding crop. She put them down where the girl could see them.

"Please Miss. Please Miss, no Miss. Please don’t use those on me." But Beatrice wanted to torment the girl further. Picking up each implement in turn, she swished then through the air as if deciding on which to use.

"I think the strap first and we can go over that with the crop or the birch if we need to."

Crack!! The first stroke landed across the girl’s shoulders tearing forth a cry of agony for the helpless maid. Each stroke that followed went further down the body. Each brought further yells of utter agony. Fifteen welts covered the back of her body from her neck to her knees before the beating stopped and the weeping girl was released from her bonds.

"Now," Beatrice said calmly, "Are you ready to continue washing me?" Through her tears Rebecca indicated that she was. Stiffly she walked to the bowl and again washed she breast mounds before taking each nipple in turn and sucking it until it was stiff and hard.

After Beatrice’s tits were satisfied, the washing continued downward until the area between her legs was reached. Again the maid was ordered to stop and use her mouth and tongue until her mistress had reached an orgasm. As young as she was, Rebecca realised this was more than an exercise in washing and that it was all in aid of giving her mistress sexual pleasure. There was nothing she could do about it though. She just had to accept and continue and hope it would soon be over.

Beatrice though, had other plans for the young girl. "Clear away the washing water and return here immediately, she ordered. The clearing away operation meant she had to walk naked to the kitchen area where other servants were congregated. Some were sympathetic at seeing her blistered back and rear but others were just relieved it wasn’t them. A couple of the boys leered and tried to cop a feel of her bum but the old cook stopped them from going further. She wanted to put some fat on the blisters but when she learned the girl had to return to her mistress straight away, told her to leave the stuff and get back. "You don’t want to anger her more by keeping her waiting," she muttered.

Tentatively Rebecca knocked at her Mistresses door. "Come in." Entering she saw Beatrice was still naked but was now holding the riding crop. "What kept you?" The voice was dangerously quiet. Rebecca mumbled an apology. "That is not good enough," Beatrice commented, "You should by now have guessed why you are here. To satisfy me. If you don’t I will have to persuade you." She indicated the form of the persuasion by bringing the crop down hard on the bed. "Now lie on the bed so I can get a good look at you."

Rebecca was made to lie face up across the bed with her legs over the side and wide apart fully exposing her cunt and arsehole. Beatrice smiled at the girls blushing and obvious embarrassment but just flicked the crop on the inner thigh close to the pubic mound. "Wider," was all she said.

"No! Miss please don’t." Pleaded the young maid.

"I do hope you are not telling me what to do girl," hissed Beatrice striking the other thigh somewhat harder this time. Rebecca shot up and cupped the sore area with her hands. She cried out and sobbed and pleaded to be allowed to go back to her quarters but it was all in vain. Beatrice again took the cord and tied the girl's wrists before fastening them to a bedpost. Again she flicked the crop. This time the leather end fell directly on the exposed slit bringing forth further cries of pain from the victim.

"You are a servant here and as such you will serve me. You will do what I say or be punished. Is that quite clear?" The last remarked was emphasised with another flick on the poor girl's slit. Sobbingly Rebecca nodded agreement and was relieved to see Beatrice had put down the crop. Her relief was short lived as Beatrice opened the sore cuntal lips and forcibly inserted a finger into the tight vagina. "Has any girl done this to you before?"

Rebecca didn’t answer until her mistress had leaned forward and nipped a nipple between her sharp teeth. "No, Miss."

"Has another girl done this to you?"

"N’noo, Miss."

"And you’ve not had a boy’s cock up there yet?"

"N’noooo Miss. Please stop."

Beatrice had no intention of stopping. She continued to thrust her finger in and out of the girl's sore cunt and to squeeze her clit between thumb and forefinger. "So you’re still a virgin. We’ll have to see what my father can do about that. I am sure he will enjoy ramming his fat cock up your tight little slit. That would make you really squeal and might start a baby growing in you." These were only threats although the helpless young girl didn’t know that. Her tormentor had no intention of having the virgin opened until she had finished with her.

"Now Becky, pay attention. I am going to show you what you have to do to me and then you will use your fingers and tongue to good effect on me and bring me to many climaxes. Understand?" She proceeded to instruct the girl and then made her perform on her. Her instruction and performance often required the assistance of the riding crop so the pain from the rod overwhelmed any enjoyment Rebecca would have obtained. By the time she was sent from the room, her body was criss-crossed front and back with painful stripes. She staggered to Cook’s room and collapsed.

Cook did what she could to ease the suffering and only gave her light work for the next few days. Unfortunately Beatrice summoned the girl to pleasure her every few days and always the girl’s pleasure was nullified by the application of the birch, crop or belt. After two months, Rebecca decided she could take no more.

The carter arrived one morning and the goods were unloaded from his wagon and taken to the cellar. Rebecca was given the job of stacking the items as they were brought down. When everything was off loaded she was alone in the cellar. While the other staff and carter were in the kitchen having a bite to eat and a glass of ale, Rebecca saw her chance and slipped under the wagon’s canvas tarpaulin. Cook, everyone just called her plain ‘Cook’, near the kitchen window, saw her but made no sign. She knew the girl’s body had had more than enough punishment and would be better off elsewhere. She didn’t send anyone to the cellar until long after the carter had disappeared down the road.

Beatrice threw a tantrum when she found Rebecca had escaped her clutches. She railed at Cook and threatened to thrash her but Cook was one of the few people who had more authority than she had. Cook was a powerful member of the household and had been born in the house a few years before Lord Henry. In her early childhood she had looked after and played with the now master and then had risen through the kitchen hierarchy to become chief cook and in charge of all the kitchen staff. She was a stern, strict woman but fair. Anyone who crossed her was summarily dealt with. When Beatrice ordered her to her room to receive a caning it was a head to head clash. Cook laughed. "Missy," she deliberately used the diminutive term, "You may have authority to thrash others here but not me. It was your treatment of poor Rebecca that drove her away."

"You will do as I say," stamped Beatrice, "Or I will have you dismissed."

"Fine, Missy, I’m dismissed. Then we’ll see what his Lordship has to say about that."

Lord Henry was out seeing to farm business but would be back for lunch. Cook went to her room and then into the garden without giving the staff any instructions for lunch preparation. On his return, his Lordship called for lunch and was livid when one of the maids told him Beatrice had dismissed Cook and no one had been told to prepare anything. "Send Cook to me," Lord Henry ordered.

"Mary, what’s all this about? And where is my lunch?" he enquired when Cook stood before him. Cook went on to explain the whole situation and then took him into the kitchen where she ordered a couple of the maids to bare their bodies. Both revealed multiple painful stripes even though on one they were a week old.

"Rebecca’s stripes were far, far worse and she was getting them every few days. She had to perform woman love with Miss Beatrice and to get her satisfaction Beatrice whipped her unmercifully. I tried to treat her as best I could and keep her out of the way but she was often ordered to the bedroom and sometimes had to stay there all night. Afterwards she wasn’t fit to do any work. We think she ran away by hiding in the carter’s wagon. If you don’t do anything you will lose more staff as well as me."

His Lordship already knew of his daughter’s love making activities and her sadistic tendencies but hadn’t realised that they had gone so far. He knew he would have to curb her a little if the household was to stay intact. Getting a cook as good as Mary would be difficult. It wasn’t just the cooking but it was the way she handled the people under her. "If you can bring me some lunch in the next fifteen minutes, you’re reinstated and I will have a word with my daughter."

Summoning Beatrice, he reprimanded her for being excessive with her punishments. "I know what you do in the bedroom with the maids, and I am not stopping that. You need sexual satisfaction the same as me. You know I’m sure, the girls who visit me at night. For you, it’s probably safer to have it with women than with men and I don’t wish to stop that, but go easy with the whippings. There is much discontent on the staff over it and I don’t want the scandal of everyone walking out. Certainly you are not to challenge Cook again. She run’s this household like clockwork and I don’t want to lose her."

Although furious, Beatrice had no alternative but to cut down on the punishments she gave out. Girls were still ordered to her room at night and they still had their backsides well warmed but there was less use of the birch and crop except for what could be liberally construed as major offences.

Chapter 4. A Voyage of Discovery

Over the years, Beatrice met with Penelope several occasions each year and they renewed their love making. Then two months ago, Penelope announced she had been invited by Lady Lillian Harnought to spend the ‘season’ in London. Lady Harnought and Penelope were old friends and lovers and hearing of Beatrice’s proclivities in that direction, invited her too. Lord Henry readily agreed in the hope she might find a suitable husband. She was now twenty years old, quite old enough, he thought, to be married and produce him a grandson. Beatrice though, was still a virgin and reluctant to give herself to any man. She would only do that if the stakes were high enough.

The coach journey to London was a long tedious one with many overnight stops and the risk of attack by robbers and highwaymen so she decided to take the packet ship from Newcastle to London. With a fair wind that might only take two days; foul weather could extend the trip considerably but as it was mid June, the risk of bad weather was reasonably low. She decided that Emma would accompany her. Emma though, realised that away from the restraints of Lord Henry, Beatrice would be free to inflict any punishment on her she thought fit. Unlike Rebecca she would be forced to flee into an alien city with no one to turn too. Her excuses to stay fell on deaf ears and resulted in her being strapped over the ottoman and whipped until she agreed to go.

Beatrice laid another couple of stripes across the well-welted crown of the arse before releasing her. "Make sure you are packed and ready to go by early tomorrow and then come and help me dress. Then you can carry my things to the coach. There won’t be much as I sent a trunk to the boat today."

Despite the need to get to Newcastle by midday, Beatrice was a little tardy in getting ready and then a thunderstorm on route delayed them further. On the quay she demanded of a docker where the packet boat was. He was quite unimpressed by the woman’s finery and irked by her sharp question. He pointed to a ship about half a mile away gradually unfurling its sails as it made its way down the channel. "That’s her, out there miss. She may be back in a week if the weather holds."

"Why didn’t they wait for me?" Beatrice was furious, "They knew I had booked on the boat. Can’t you get them to return?"

"No miss. She can’t come back now. They had to leave when the tide was right and as it was they were some bit late afore they cast off."

"Is there no other boat going to London?"

"Well missie, I don’t rightly know but I think the "Red Witch" might be going there. She nearly full of cargo now and I think the captain’s just waiting on getting clearance for the paperwork. She’s the third boat along."

Beatrice immediately directed the coach driver to the boat and sent Emma to enquire if the boat was indeed going to London. One of the deck hands said it was and when this was relayed to her mistress, she jumped down and instructed the girl to get their stuff on board.

A young deckhand tried to stop them saying they never took passengers and the only decent cabin was the captain’s. "Then I will have that," demanded Beatrice, "Take me there."

"I don’t think I should miss. You’d better wait till Capt’n comes back with the mate and bo’sun."

"Nonsense, I am Lady d’Lisle and he will take me to London. Show me the cabin."

By now several other deckhands stood round and were winking and leering at the two ladies. Emma heard one whisper to lad, "Let ‘em on. We might all get our cocks wet then."

Emma tried to persuade her mistress to wait until the captain came back but was rebuked in no uncertain terms. The lad showed them the captain’s cabin and left them for a while. Minutes later there were shouts on deck and the sound of running. A fresh authoritative voice boomed out orders. The gangplank was run ashore and the order given to ‘warp her round’. The ladies felt the boat moving and Emma was sent on deck to find out what was happening. To her all seemed confusion and ropes were hauled and the boat moved from the quayside to the open channel. Foresails were set and gradually the mainsails were lowered. She stood out of the way fascinated by all that was going on until the mate spotted her and nudged the captain.

"What the hell are you doing on board this ship?" he roared.

"I’m sorry Sir, but my mistress missed the packet boat to London and we were told you would be going there so she insisted you take us. I’m sorry but she insists on everything and expects all of us to do as she wishes. She is Lady d’Lisle."

"She always gets what she wants does she? This time methinks she will get more than she reckons with. Where is she?"

"In your cabin Sir."

"The cheeky bitch. Tell her I will be down as soon as we are properly underway. No, just wait here and we’ll let her wait and wonder."

"Please Sir, don’t anger her any more. I’ll probably get a thrashing now and it might make it even worse."

"Wait by the rail over there!" His voice boomed but there was a smile on his lips. He gave orders to his crew and then the young lad came up to him. "Sorry Capt’n. Her ladyship wouldn’t take no for an answer. She treated us like shit and insisted on being taken to your cabin."

Emma waited where she was told, enjoying the feel of the wind through her hair and wondering at the activity going on around her. The ship, a brigantine, rolled and bucked in the choppy sea but Emma, hanging on to the rail with one hand, kept her feet and began to get used to moving her muscles in time with the boat’s movements. Her mind wondered at what was in store for her as the land gradually receded behind them.

It was half an hour before the captain could turn his attentions to Emma again. "Sir," she said, "I really ought to go to my mistress and tell her what is happening."

"No, from what the men have told me, she deserves to be kept waiting. Now tell me about her and yourself. I’m Rory, by the way."

Emma found she could talk freely to Rory and the whole story came out. Rory questioned her particularly about her life at the mansion and as more details of what her ladyship made her do came out he became angry. He determined that she would be taken down a peg or two.

"Sir?"

"Call me Rory or Capt’n."

"Rory," Emma went on, "When we came on board one of the crewmen suggested they might make sport with us. Is that going to happen?"

"Nothing will happen to you here that I don’t allow but we all like a good fuck now and again." He gave Emma a squeeze. "Would you object to that or are you only into women?"

"I’m sick of woman love," spat Emma with some venom.

Rory ordered the young lad who name seemed to be Jaz, to bring her ladyship to them. He returned a few minutes later to say she refused to leave the cabin.

"Bo’sun! Take Ronnie and drag the bitch from my cabin and bring her here." The bo’sun was a huge man and Ronnie was not much smaller. Soon the kicking and screaming woman was carried with some roughness between them and dumped on the deck.

"How dare you, man. I am a Lady and I will see you in jail when we get to London."

"Lady, London is at least three weeks away. You came aboard my ship unasked and ...."

"Three weeks! London should only be two days away!"

"Had you been more careful with your enquiries you might have found out that we are heading for Hamburg and then up into the Baltic, back to Holland and then to London. I hope you can pay the 200 guineas cost for such a long trip?"

"You must be mad. I demand you take me directly to London."

"Have you the 200 guineas?"

"You’ll get paid when we get to London."

"No way! If you can’t pay up front you just have to work your passage. Perhaps it’s time you learned to scrub decks. Time for you to find out what real work is like."

"You’re mad!" Beatrice, now very riled, flew at the captain and scored his face with her nails, drawing three lines of blood.

The captains face grew very dark but his voice was low as he spoke to the bo’sun. "Strip her and bind her hands and feet then put her in the for’ud store where there is still a little space. Let her cool off till morn’n. Keep your cock out of her for the time being and keep the men away from her too. We’ll have some sport with her in the morning if she isn’t more agreeable."

Emma pleaded with the captain not to do this to her mistress but was told to hold her tongue. "This is my ship and those on board it take my orders. That includes uninvited ladies."

To the jeers of and whistles of the assembled crew, Beatrice was stripped naked. In doing so the bo’sun made every effort to maul her breasts and fondle her cunt to embarrass her as much as possible. Cords were produced and Beatrice was trussed and taken below. Again Emma begged Rory to be merciful with her mistress, as she feared she would take the brunt of her anger when they were on shore again.

"By the time we are on shore again, she might not be your mistress. So don’t worry on that score. Now what about you, my beauty, are you going to cause me trouble?"

"No, Sir --- Rory. My bum’s got enough stripes on it already from her cane. I’ll do whatever you want."

"Lift your skirts and show me your bum then." Rory was appalled at the sight of the raw red stripes made worse by sitting throughout the long, rough coach journey. The nearby seamen, hardened as they were, also flinched. "She need ter sit in some sea water for a bit," called one old seaman.

"That bitch did that? What for?" Explaining the reasons took a little while during which Rory examined her arse more closely and gently touched the tender flesh. "The men are right," he said, "You need to sit in some sea water for a bit. It will sting badly at first but soon the fire will go." He gave some orders and Jaz brought a tarred canvas tray on deck. When cords were inserted through the eyelets and strung to nearby rails, the tray became a shallow bath. Normally it would have been used for steeping rope and wood that needed soaking before use. Canvas buckets swung over the ship's side on long ropes soon filled the ‘bath’.

"Sorry Emma, there’s not much privacy here but the men won’t do anything to you without my say so. They may get pretty horny as you can see I am, but they won’t do anything except imagine what they would like to do! So remove your dress and ease your arse into the water." Blushingly Emma did so and, as she had been told, the water at first stung fiercely but gradually the coolness of the salt water soothed the soreness. She sat for sometime before Rory came and stood in front of her, his bulging breeches level with her face. "I wonder what his cock is like?" she thought to herself as he helped her up. Picking up her clothes they adjourned to his cabin.

"You said you’d do whatever I wanted, Emma. You know what I want to do now?"

"I can guess from the bulge in your pants and I’m no virgin, not like M’lady. I’ve had a few cocks but not many. She wouldn’t allow men near her cunt. You say what you would like me to do and I’ll do the best I can."

"You say the bitch trussed in the store hasn’t been fucked before? Well I’ll be buggered. By this time tomorrow I’ll wager she will have had a good many cocks up her tight little cunt and no doubt up her arse too. We’ll soon bring her education up to scratch on that score and no doubt make a start on repaying some of the punishments she has given out. No take the rest of your stuff off so I can see all of you." It wasn’t long before Emma was completely naked in front of the captain.

"Beautiful, beautiful," he kept remarking as he fondled her full breasts and kissed her lips.

"Would you like me to open your breeches?" Emma was aroused now, certainly more aroused than she had ever been with Beatrice. At Rory’s nod she knelt down, opened the codpiece and found his cock already rampant. Gently she massaged it and watched its purple head grow firmer and larger. "Ummm. Nice."

"Suck it." There was no need for a second bidding. Opening her mouth, Emma began sucking on the erect tool. It was bigger than any she had seen of had so far but then it was mostly boys she had seen.

Feeling the warmth of her mouth around his manhood, Rory began gentle in and out movements that gradually increased in intensity when no objections were forthcoming from the girl. Emma sucked harder and used her tongue on the underside of the cock head. It was only the second time she had done this so she just did what she thought best. After all, she thought, she was very experienced at servicing a woman and men couldn’t be that much different in their feelings.

Under these ministrations it wasn’t long before Rory blasted his seed to the back of her throat. She swallowed and gently continued to lick him clean until he finally pulled away. "That was great lass. Good to have you aboard. Glad you missed the packet boat but I don’t think the bitch will be."

"Grub’s up Capt’n," Jaz yelled. They had been on deck again for a while. Emma had felt queasy after a while in the cabin but at first didn’t like to admit it to Rory in case he thought it was because she took his spunk but in the end she had to say. Rory just laughed and said he wouldn’t be surprised if some of his crew felt a little seasick too. It was only a natural reaction to being on a moving boat. They ate on deck. Plain simple food and fortunately still fresh. After a week at sea, things became less palatable.

"Jaz! Take some water and a couple of biscuits to the bitch in the hold. Leave her tied up so you’ll have to feed her but keep your cock and your fingers out of her cunt. We’ll save that for tomorrow. Do what else you like with her but leave her cunt alone."

Emma watched as Jaz took a lantern and limped below with a jug and hard biscuits. "Milady won’t like that for sure," observed Emma.

"Stop calling her, Milady." Rory’s tone took Emma by surprise. "Calling her milady gives her status which on this boat she doesn’t have. Here she is a prisoner. Call her bitch or whatever, or even Beat if you wish to be nice. Here you are her mistress, not the other way round. Treat her a she did you."

The lecture was interrupted by Jaz appearing at the hatchway, empty handed. Picking up two canvas buckets he filled them with sea water and seeing the questioning look on their faces, he said, "She spewed her guts up all over herself. And it smells something awful down there. Thought I’d wash her down a bit." Rory nodded and then added, "Make sure she drinks plenty of water to make up for what she’s lost."

"Aye, Capt’n but she already pissed herself as well."

"Should I go to her?" enquired Emma.

"No, lass," interjected Jaz, "You’d soon be as sick as she and then there’s be two lots of mess to clean up. And besides I got to get to know ‘er a bit yet."

********

Beatrice had lain on the small area of hard irregular boards between piles of chains and ropes invisible in the darkness, for what seemed and interminable time. She cried till she was hoarse but no one came. Under her she could feel the boat moving but it was pitch dark and she could see nothing. Despite being tied hand and foot she could squirm over the floor to a limited extent only to find the available area was not more than a few square feet. The boat pitched and rolled. Her stomach was disinclined to move with it. The nauseous smell assailed her nostrils. She rolled on her side and was violently sick. Later movements caused her to roll in her mess. She was sick again and again. "Let me die," she pleaded to no one. Cursing everyone for her predicament, she tried to figure out what to do but bound, sick and with no one around there was little hope. "Why hasn’t that bitch Emma come down to help me?" In her mind she knew the answer. Emma would have let the men fuck her to get out of this. Would they do it to her? It would be rape because she would certainly put up a fight - if she wasn’t tied. Would she be able to use her status as a lady to persuade them to leave her alone? Questions like this ran through her mind along with mad dreams or nightmares.

She tried to sleep but that lasted only minutes at a time. Her whole body was cramped and sore, her throat was parched. The coils of rope and chains dug into her back and ribs. Why couldn’t she just die? When she thought she would at last do just that, a glimmer of light appeared. Someone was coming. A lantern was held over her.

"My God, wench. You’re a stinking mess. Smells like a sewer here." Jaz left the lantern at the foot of the stair well and went on deck. Beatrice could still see the glow from the light but could make little of her surroundings.

Only a short while later the man returned with two buckets which he hooked on a couple of brackets while he fetched the lantern. "Well we aren’t such a lady now are we," he laughed as he doused the first bucket of water over her.

"You’ll hang for this you bastard." Some of the fire had come back into Beatrice’s lungs but in reality she was too sore lying on the floor and too and weak from vomiting to do much. Most of the mess had now been washed into the bilges and by her previous standard Beatrice was reasonably clean. Jaz lifted her by the under arms and sat her against the bulkhead. "Capt’n says you’ve to drink plenty of water and he’s sent some biscuits for yer to chew on which may help the sickness."

"How can I eat and drink with my hands tied and near numb boy?"

"Capt’n says I has to feed yer. And I get to play with yer too." He reached over and gave her breasts a hard pinch. "I likes a nice bit of titty to play with."

"Get your hands off me boy!"

"Shouting’s not going to do any good. There’s only me and you that can hear. Now let give you a drink first. Jaz put an arm around her shoulders to support her and then raised the jug to her lips. Beatrice took a few mouthfuls before spitting some out. It was not the clear spring water she was used to. Jaz offered her a biscuit. Beatrice resolutely closed her mouth.

"Capt’n said to eat." He pinched her breast hard again. She cried out and the biscuit went in. "Eat, bitch. It’s for your own good." Eventually she managed to eat one of the biscuits and drink more of the water and Jaz deemed he had done enough for her. With wild swings of mood she had cursed him and then sweetly asked for Emma to come to her.

"Capt’n forbids her to come down here. Only me to look after you till morning," was all she got in reply. "Playtime now." Jaz began sucking on her breasts and fondling her body and then took out his now hard cock to show her. He held it close to her lips.

Suspecting he wanted her to suck it, Beatrice snapped her teeth closed. "I’m not that daft lass, I knows you would bite if I put it in your mouth and I’m not allowed to fuck you proper yet so its yer tits that’s going to do it." By moving a few coils Jaz was able to lay the woman down on her back and straddle her body. Beatrice struggled as his chest started to cover her face and then raised again slightly. She felt the hard prick nestle between her breasts but wasn’t certain what he was actually going to do but it felt warm, much warmer than her body flesh was after being naked for so long and then washed with sea water. Jaz’s hands pressed the globes together and he began to work his cock between them. Had she not already been sore and the movements less rough, the sensation might have been pleasant but Jaz just wanted to relieve his cock and thrust hard and long. Without any form of lubrication, the tit skin held his cock tight just like his callused hands did when he wanked himself.

Beatrice had never felt so helpless, never felt less in control, never felt more humiliated. A man was violating her and she could do nothing except curse him and sob. Most of her tears had long since dried up and she tried to hide her fear and put on a brave face by not crying but underneath the cursing and bravado, she was desperately afraid as to what they would do.

The abrasion of the cock made the inside of her tits sore until she hoped he would cum and it would be all over. It didn’t seem as if he would fuck her so that was something. It was more the humiliation of being helpless and powerless to control her own fate that angered Beatrice. She felt some moisture seep from the cock which eased its passage. The thrusts increased, as did the side pressure on her breasts from his hands, until the inevitable. Strings of warm spunk jetted from the cock head and fell over her face, upper chest and in her cleavage. Jaz gave a little groan. "Hope you liked that girlie, I did. You got nice tits. Perhaps I get to use them agin."

"Bastard!" Beatrice’s unladylike reply was totally ignored by Jaz who proceeded to rub his sperm into the surrounding flesh and on her lips. Snapping her teeth, Beatrice tried to catch Jaz’s finger until it became a bit of a game that ended with Jaz squeezing the last drop of spunk from the eye of his prick on to his finger and then pinching a nipple so hard she yelled and he was able to deposit it on her tongue. Holding her mouth closed he kissed her, hard at first and then more gently. Her ladyship just let him do it. The fight had gone out of her. He might be a slow peasant lad, but at least he wasn’t hurting her.

Jaz sat her up again and cuddled her like a doll. "You’re very cold," he said, "I’ll see if the Capt’n’ll let yer have a blanket."

"And untie me. Please. My hands and feet are numb and the ropes have chafed my wrists and ankles till they are raw." For the first time in her life Beatrice was pleading with a servant, for that is how she still saw Jaz. Jaz moved the lantern and looked at her bindings. Even with the yellow of the lamplight he could see that both her hands and feet were rather blue in colour and there were signs of bleeding around the wrists.

"Not unless the Capt’n says so, missie but I’ll ask him when I gits a blanket."

Rory was still on deck with Emma watching the set of the sails and keeping an eye on the compass course. Really there was no need. His crew were skilled and did their job well. "Howdja get on," Rory asked as Jaz approached.

"She drank a little and had one biscuit. She didn’t think much of either, nor of the titty fuck I gave her but she seems more docile now. Capt’n? She’s very cold, ‘er being naked and all that and ‘er hands and feet is numb. Can I take ‘er a blanket and undo her lashings? I could lock ‘er in. ‘Er wrists have bin bleeding."

Rory thought for a moment or two. Emma started to ask again to see Beatrice but a look from Rory silenced her. "Jaz, the blanket’s okay, we don’t want her getting pneumonia but she’s a wild bitch with her hands free." He touched the scratch marks on his face. Seeing Jaz looked distressed he thought again as he realised the slow lumbering lad had feelings for her ladyship. "Lookee Jaz, if you think she’ll be okay if you untie her, do it but after she is free you will have to stay with her all the time. All night until we bring her on deck in the morning. You can decide if you want to spend the night with her and look after her but no fucking her cunt. You understand that? We’ll know if you do and then your cock will be served up as a breakfast sausage." Jaz nodded. "Right then, take her a blanket, and then either leave her as she is and come back, or untie her and stay in the store."

"Aye aye Capt’n." Jaz didn’t need telling a second time. Gathering a blanket from an empty bunk, he limped back to the store. "I can untie yer but if I do I has to spend the night in here with yer," he told Beatrice. "Mustn’t fuck yer though but I can do anything else. You want me to undo the lashings?" Beatrice was too sore from the tight bindings and cramped muscles to refuse despite knowing that he might well make her do some unpleasant things.

The relief from the bindings was short lived as the blood once again began to flow more freely to her extremities. Rubbing her hands eased the pain a little and Jaz rubbed her feet. As he did so he caught tantalising glimpses of her sex mound. His cock started to rise again. He dare not attempt to fuck her so should he do her tits again? He dare not try and get her to suck him. So, he would make her rub him off. By moving more rope, he was able to clear enough space to lay the blanket out and for both of them to lie tight against each other and to wrap the blanket around them. Snuggled up like this he took her hand and placed around his prick. "You should know what to do missie."

Beatrice immediately let go, "No!" but and further comment was silenced as a quick grip on her right breast brought forth a scream.

"Lookee missie, I help’d yer by getting the blanket and releasing you, now its your turn - unless you want to be trussed again and me to leave yer in the cold." Again he placed Beatrice’s hand over his weapon and this time she kept it there. "Move it missie," Jaz demanded. Without enthusiasm, Beatrice wanked Jaz’s cock until it came on her body. Tired and with his sexual frustrations alleviated, Jaz drew the naked girl tightly on top of him, turned the lantern right down and dozed off. It took Beatrice longer. She was used to a feather bed not a man in rough clothing to lie on. There seemed buttons and buckles all in the wrong places for her to get comfortable but she didn’t want to disturb him in case he should demand more of her services.

"Bo’sun! See what that pair are up to in the store and bring them on deck," Rory yelled. He had just finished his watch. Breakfast was over for the new watch and his should be ready. Apart from the earlier four hours he’d been on watch, he had a much cosier time with Emma than Jaz had with Beatrice. He had fucked her passionately and she had responded equally. After that the pair had slept peacefully until Rory was awakened for his second stint on watch. For some reason, while Rory was in bed with her, Emma never felt sick or even nauseous. Once she was in the bunk alone, hearing the creaking boat sounds, the rush of passing water and feeling the motion she again felt queasy. Light was coming through the skylight as she made her way to the ‘head’ to pee. She felt cold. Dressing she decided her garments weren’t warm enough and spying one of Rory’s sweaters, she put it on over the top of her own clothes. It had a tarry smell but it wasn’t unpleasant. Arriving on deck as Rory was giving his orders to the bo’sun.

By the time Beatrice appeared with Jaz supporting her most of the crew were assembled on the deck. Rory stood before them and acted the part of a judge passing sentence. "Beatrice d’Lisle, You have brought much pain and suffering to those under you. You have unnecessarily whipped your maid, you scored my face, you boarded this ship without permission and then expected us to take you directly to London when you haven’t the money to pay the fare. For all your many crimes, a hundred lashes with the ropes end would not really fill the full justice."

"No, Rory, No!" Emma cried out, "It is too much. It would kill her."

Rory spun round, "Would anyone in this world really regret her loss?"

"Capt’n, Sir, begging yer pardon," Jaz spoke in his slow measured way, "If yer whip her that much, nobody on the boat will have any pleasure from her on this trip." Jaz was still holding her with his arms protectively around her shoulder. Beatrice, sobbing now, tried to hold herself close to him to prevent her shivering in the cool wind. "Why don’t us just give her a little taste of the whip and keep the rest against ‘er being good?"

Rory hadn’t intended to give her the full hundred lashes but he didn’t want to appear to be soft in front of the crew. Now he had an excuse. He appeared to consider it for a few moments. "Jaz, are you prepared to be the keeper of this woman while she is on this boat and be responsible for her behaviour?" Jaz nodded, "Aye, Capt’n." "Are you prepared to give her a hiding as you would any naughty child if she doesn’t do as she is told or doesn’t work hard enough?" Again the reply was, "Aye, Capt’n." "Very well. Bo’sun, have her fastened over that hatchway and give her a dozen of your best lashes."

In no time at all, Beatrice was taken from Jaz’s arms and spread-eagled over the hatch. The bo’sun appeared with a rope about an inch in diameter with end eighteen inches unraveled into three strands. All the ends were neatly whipped and the handle end worked with a series of ornate knots to give a good grip. Swished through the air, the end splayed out so each stroke would leave three stripes. It was a tool for punishing men, not girls. At Rory’s nod, the bo’sun began. He didn’t hit overly hard but the first stroke brought forth a hideous cry. Three angry welts appeared. Again the rope hit. Another shriek, but apart from the crew their only neighbours were the wind and sea. Emma watched with mixed emotions. One part of her said she deserved it for all the pain she had caused her and others, another part pitied what the girl was going through.

After four strokes, Beatrice thought she would die before she received the full amount but there was no let up. By the eighth stroke her cries had just become hoarse groans and her arse one large blister. The flesh started to break at the tenth and she passed out. Rory gave the signal to stop. Two buckets of salt water were thrown over her and Jaz again went to her side.

"Jaz, look after her till noon and then bring her back to this hatch. It time some of us had some pleasure from her body."

"Aye, aye Capt’n." Jaz took the girl to his bunk, laid her down and did his best to soothe her.

Noon came and once more she was fastened to the hatch. This time she was face up but with her legs brought back towards her ears. Her multicoloured, angry and very sore arse on show and her sex wide open for all to see. "Men," Rory started, "We believe this girl still to be a virgin. If that is so, it will only be for another few minutes. I intended to be the one to remove that impediment but I am going to pass that honour on to Jaz who had done so much for her. Go to it Jaz, fuck her and fuck her hard."

Jaz could hardly believe his ears. The sight of ‘his’ girl’s open cunt had already given him an erection and as soon as he had dropped his breeches, his cock head was at her entrance. Beatrice pleaded but she knew it would have no effect. It was inevitable. Jaz’s cock entered part way, stopped then drew back. A harder thrust forward and he was in. Then there was no holding back. He fucked hard. His cock, stained red with hymeneal blood, glistened with her juice. Cheered on by the spectators, it still took him longer than expected to climax. Proudly he showed his shrinking cock to the crew and announced she was a virgin no longer, she was a woman.

The bo’sun and the mate then had their turn and then Rory asked the leading man from each of the three watches to come forward and fuck her. Beatrice now had a sore cunt to go with her sore arse.

"That’s enough for now," Rory yelled at the crew who were disappointed and not having a turn. "Jaz, find her some clothes and make a start at training her. At eight bells two men coming off watch, can see Jaz and take a turn with her. Remember Jaz she is in your charge. If she doesn’t make an effort to work or doesn’t perform well enough with the men, you are to take her and warm her arse again. You understand that too, Beattie?" Rory deliberately used a diminutive of her name. "You are one of the crew now. In fact your the newest and lowest of them. It will do you no harm to learn some skills from Jaz. He’s an excellent sailmaker and rigger."

Of course Beatrice didn’t believe him but withheld any comment. She didn’t want to provoke further punishment. She only thought, how could they expect her to work? She could only stand with Jaz’s support.

"Before you go men, let me introduce the other new member of our crew. This is Emma and on this ship she is my personal secretary." There was some laughter at this and Rory turned on them, "Yes, I know what you are thinking. You think it is just so I can get my cock away. Well that would be good enough excuse but she also has abilities that none of you have. She can read and write." He paused knowing a few of the crew could do so, and then went on, "In both English and German! I hope we can use that ability in our dealings in Hamburg."

Emma had looked on with some fascination as her late mistress was raped. Her interest was more in the size of the cocks than in Beatrice’s discomfort. Jaz was large, perhaps a little larger than Rory, she thought, but the mate and bo’sun were smaller. She watched as Jaz helped the still naked woman to the mess room and was glad that Beatrice had someone to help her even though she might despise him. At least she wasn’t the high and mighty rich girl now. She was just a plain working woman. A woman who now had to do what she was told and not give orders for others to carry out on threat of dire punishment.

Remembering Rory had told Jaz to get some clothes for Beatrice, Emma looked through the few they had brought with them. Unfortunately most of Beatrice’s stuff had been in the steamer trunk so she only had one change of dress and although that wasn’t very suitable for work, it was perhaps better than nothing at all. She took it to Jaz and Beatrice. Beatrice started to snap at her for not interceding on her behalf but Emma was not having any of that. "Beatrice, all this is your own fault. You wouldn’t make yourself ready early enough yesterday. You wouldn’t listen to what people were telling you. Blame yourself, not me. Or anyone else for that matter." Emma turned to Jaz, "I’ve looked through her things but can only find this dress. All the rest went to the packet boat. It’s not much but better than nothing. Outside with nothing she’ll get pneumonia."

"Jaz looked kindly at Emma, "It’s alright miss, when we’ve ate, I’ll find some men’s things in the locker room. They’ll be warmer and more fitting for the work she's going to do. Keep those for when we are in port. Maybe the Capt’n will allow her ashore. I dunno. See how she shapes up."

Chapter 5 Hamburg

They encountered strong head winds as they headed down the coast of Denmark and both ladies and some of the crew were overcome by seasickness. Fortunately the strong wind lasted for only one day before they were in calmer waters but it still remained against them and delayed their arrival by several days. Gradually Beatrice found she could walk a little better but it was still very painful to sit especially as there was no such thing as a cushion on this boat. Jaz did his best to find a pile of canvas but even so that was still relatively hard. She had begun to balk at some of his instructions on the second day but soon reverted after Jaz, seeing it as his duty, pulled her boy’s pants down and gave her a couple of hefty whollops with his hard hands. He started to teach her the use of a palm and needle to sew canvas but her progress was extremely slow. She had never before done anything like that for herself. Jaz was patient when he saw she was actually trying.

Three times a day, two men came and fucked her. At first she found it utterly disgusting but as the days wore on she became inured to it. Jaz fucked her several times each day too and while she didn’t enjoy that either, found her body responding in a way she didn’t expect. She slept in his bunk with him and did the same watches as he did. Mostly she was able to keep out of the way of the other men but occasionally she was called on to haul a rope of hold something. Generally it was the sewing she did. Repairing sails. Repairing more sails. It seemed a never-ending job. She was a little better at splicing, at least with the smaller ropes but all the crew could do that so there were fewer of those jobs.

Emma passed her time sorting through the boxes of paper work in Rory’s cabin trying to get some order from the chaos. Nothing seemed to be filed in any particular arrangement. In reading the documents she began to get some idea of the arrangements for the shipping of cargo and the documents that were needed for each country and port. Rory had only a vague idea of some of the things. "The agent does all that," was a stock reply. Yet he was fully conversant with loading arrangements, where each cargo had to be in order to retrieve it with the least fuss and yet not affect the loading level of the ship itself. Emma tried to make sense of some of the agent's notes. Some seemed unduly high and there just didn’t seem to be a set of rules. Rory had a German/English dictionary that hadn't seen much use but which Emma had to refer to a few times for some technical names, and a well-thumbed German phrase book.

When she was able, she spent time on deck talking to the crew or helping with simple tasks. All seemed to like her. She talked to Beatrice too but conversation was more stilted. Neither could get used to the change in roles.

After eight days at sea they finally sailed up the Elbe to Hamburg and tied up against the quay. Emma was below and dressed in her best frock when two uniformed officials came aboard. She heard angry voices above her and hurriedly finished touching up her hair. Stepping on deck, she found Rory and the German officials gesticulating in some argument, neither really knowing what the other wanted or said. Looking the picture of loveliness, all eyes went to her when she stepped forward, curtsied and greeted them in fluent formal German. They returned the greeting with salutes and heel clicking. Emma apologised for her accent, which was more typical of southern Germany, and they smiled and politely remarked it was much better than her captain’s. She asked their position and purpose and was told they were from the tax office and they had to ascertain the value of the goods being landed. They asked her position and a knowing smile spread across their faces when she indicated she was the captain’s private secretary.

She suggested to Rory that a bottle of whiskey might not come amiss and after they had drunk one round negotiations got under way. Rory just sat back for most of the time. He couldn’t understand a word of what was said, but it all seemed very jovial and good-natured and progress was made. Occasionally Emma would ask him a question on the amount of this or that but she had the manifest to hand and they went through that quite quickly. In under an hour it was all over and the amount of tax was set. The lowness of the figure surprised Rory but he kept a straight face.

With more deck side pleasantries, and curtsies and heel clicking the officials left.

Captain Frazier of the barque ‘Allondale’ now moored astern of the ‘Red Witch’ waited on the quayside. He and Rory sailed together in their youth and now met up whenever their paths crossed. The dour Scot expected a long wait. The same officials had spent the whole morning on his ship the previous day and one of his crewmen spoke a smattering of their language. Half smiling to himself, he heard the altercation between the crew and the officials. "Rory’s going to go through it today," he thought, "Why can’t they send people who can understand English!" When the noise suddenly stopped he looked up and was surprised by the sight of an attractive young bitch bobbing and smiling at the officials. He was even more surprised when the officials responded with the salutes and heel clicks. Instead of moving on to a bar, he waited. The group disappeared below only to re-emerge a short time later when hatches were removed and the officials peered in. The girl was still with them and seemed to be in charge. Everyone was smiling. Most unusual. Seeing another girl in seaman’s clothes on board he wondered what Rory had been up to. Were they really crew? The girl in the dress with the officials certainly didn’t seem like one and the other might be dressed for the part but didn’t act as if she knew what she was doing. Perhaps Rory was keeping a couple of whores for himself and the crew. Perhaps he could use them and save himself the expense in a brothel?

Now the hatches were being replaced. Surely the inspection couldn’t be over. It was little more than an hour since they went on board. On his vessel they were there for most of the day. There was that girl again, bobbing and smiling. There were the two officials also smiling and clicking their heels. And now they shaking hands with Rory who imitated their heel clicking and now they were coming ashore. It couldn’t be. German officials didn’t work like that. They took their time, they drank a good deal of whiskey, and they argued over prices and amounts. What was going on? He would find out. When the officials were gone, he could go aboard the ‘Red Witch’.

Rory greeted his friend with slaps on the back and they retired to his cabin where he introduced Emma. Emma’s handling of the taxmen had surprised him too. "I knew you could read German," he said to her, "But you seemed to speak it so well and have all the mannerisms."

"My grandfather used to bring his friends from Germany over to stay from time to time and my grandmother who was from Germany, made them formal occasions so I had to know how to greet them. We spoke German all the time I lived with grandma so it became almost my first language."

"Well, whatever you did lass," Frazier drawled in his broad accent, "You got them off the boat far quicker than I did. They were with me for the best part of a day."

"And I think we got away with paying less tax." Rory quoted the figure he had to pay to which Frazier "Aye, you did that Rory, I’ve ter pay over twice that much. I carry a bit more than yer, but not that much."

For an hour the two friends chatted and caught up on the latest news. Frazier enquired how he came by the other girl in his crew but Rory didn’t give much away on that score only saying she had foisted herself on him. The subject was dropped for the time being.

"I was on the way to the agents when I saw them board you, you coming along there too?" Frazier asked.

"Yeah, but I have a couple of other calls to make as well. We’ll take Emma along she may be able to help us with that slimy slug, Klaus Keinzer. Klaus Keinzer was the agent who organised the cargoes in Germany, one of the few who spoke a little English but always he seemed devious and they were certain he overcharged them. "I’d better take someone along to see she gets back safely. Hamburg’s no place for a woman on her own."

Emma chose ‘Razer’ as her ‘bodyguard’. He was a huge, mean looking man with a scar across one cheek but Emma had always got on well with him. Razer looked a little out of place as he walked behind the two captains who were dressed in their best outfits and Emma in her best dress. He didn’t care, he looked what he was, a bodyguard. He was proud to have been chosen by the pretty miss.

Klaus Keinzer’s office was a dingy building not too far from the waterfront with a two roomed, sparsely furnished office. A middle aged male secretary sat at a high desk in the outer room. Klaus greeted them with a limp handshake and then asked the secretary in German for the special contract for the English boats. Emma wondered what was special about this contract but didn’t let on that she understood. The contracts in the German language were passed to Rory and Frazier for their approval. "I expect you would like me to translate for you," the agent said and then went on to give them a very liberal interpretation of the wording and leaving out some of the details which he knew they would have disagreed with. Rory handed his to Emma who at this stage had not been introduced. Klaus had just expected her to be the captain’s plaything and was along for the outing. He was surprised when she started reading it and was obviously going through it line by line.

Just as he was about to comment he was taken aback by a vehement outburst from Emma. In his language she called him all the low down devious scumbags she knew the terms for. The outburst went on for several minutes before the secretary interjected, "Fraulein, please. That is the language of farmers wives."

"Yes, it is," Emma snapped back, "And that is the language he and you should understand! This so-called special contract is a farce. Only designed to fleece us." She turned to Klaus who was still pale from the verbal onslaught, "Tell him to get a proper contract or have him write a new one or we will find a new agent. Over the years our business has brought you in many marks and can continue to do so but only if you give us a fair deal. Your slimy dealing days are over." Before the assembled gathering she held the contract up and tore it in half. "Even if you halved the price, we would be a rip off." She tore it in half again. "We will negotiate at a quarter of the price."

Rory had never seen this side of Emma. Neither he nor Frazier knew what was going on. Their senses though told them she had found something radically wrong with the contracts that she was not going to allow. Emma turned to Rory, "You have other business to attend to and this may take a while, will you give me the authority to negotiate this contract on your behalf? I do not want to see you taken for a ride by this man." After a few questions and answers Rory agreed and signed a paper the agent insisted on giving Emma power to sign the contract.

The clerk had produced a new contract. Emma read it. It was a fairly standard document without any prices added. "Herr Keinzer, I think we should discuss this in your office. Razer, please wait outside the door. If I yell come in and twist this man’s bollocks until they pop and then squash them in the floor." Again her uncouth language was deliberate. She knew Klaus would understand. She knew Razer would delight in the opportunity. She thought the glimmer of a smile appeared on the Scottish captains face. Turning she lead the way into the inner office. "Leave the door ajar," she snapped at Klaus as he followed her in. "Now let us start to go through this and the costings in a civilised way," she added in a more reasonable tone and gave a sweet smile for good measure.

Klaus started to apologise but Emma waved him to shut up. "You tried to make an extra few marks for yourself and didn’t expect it challenged. Now were have to agree on terms knowing we each understand each other."

Half an hour later, she emerged and showed the newly signed contract to Frazier. The price was well under half of the earlier one. Frazier watched as Klaus spoke to his clerk who produced a metal box and counted out five marks and gave them to Emma. Turning to Frazier she said simply, "That is for me bringing him the business."

Frazier asked if she would negotiate for him. "It will cost you a sovereign," smiled Emma. The Scot demurred at this so Emma went on, "If I reduce the contract price to less than half, you pay me five sovereigns." Again Frazier spluttered and offered her the one sovereign but Emma stood firm. "Sorry, captain, that offer is no longer on the table. It’s five sovereigns if I reduce the price to under half or you negotiate on your own." All this was said quietly. Only Razer was in earshot.

The captain didn’t need to be a mathematician to work out that five sovereigns, although a high price was far, far less than the price her would save on the contract if she did as she said, reduced it by half. Eventually he agreed. Emma made sure Razer knew as well so there could be no backing out. She took the contract into Klaus and in less than five minutes had the price reduced to a few marks under half. Frazier signed then grumbled at having to pay five sovereigns for five minutes work.

"Captain, when you sail a ship neatly alongside the quay, do people say, ‘it only took him minutes to do than so we won’t pay his Captains wage?’ No, they say, he has great experience. It took him years of training to do that. I didn’t learn the language in five minutes either."

Frazier looked at her and said, "Miss you are one helluva lass to cross. Collect your money from my ship when you get back." With that he stalked off.

Razer watched the scene. Emma went back in the office and after a short argument Klaus came out and produced a further five marks from the cash box as her commission. Emma formally thanked him and called to Razer, "Come, we’re going shopping." She tossed him three marks and set off.

An hour or so later when they returned to the ship, she had bought clothes that were more suitable for shipboard life and Razer sported a brightly coloured bandanna. "Don’t run away," she told him, "We have a call to make on the ‘Allondale’. Rory looked at her quizzically when she dumped the clothing on the bunk but before he could say anything she said she would tell him later, she had to collect her commission from Frazier and didn’t want him to get away without paying. Again Frazier grumbled at the price but ended up paying her fee.

Chapter 6 To the Brothel

Rory’s other business had taken him to see ‘Doris’, the owner of a brothel. Doris wasn’t her real name but everyone knew her by it. He wanted her to take Beatrice into her house until he returned from the next leg of his trip, which was the long journey to Danzig. Doris would hire out the girl and pay Rory for finding her. This he argued would cover the fare she should have paid for the trip. Doris agreed thinking she could make a lot of money by offering punters a real English Lady.

Later that evening Rory went to Beatrice and Jaz. He took her best dress with him. "Put that on," he said, "And be ready to come with me in ten minutes."

"Where are we going?"

"Where you can earn enough money to pay your fare home. You aren’t going to earn that much as a deck hand."

"You taking ‘er to a brothel Capt’n?" Jaz asked, "Doris’s?"

"That’s right, and don’t think you are going to persuade me not to. As you already know, Emma has more than paid her way, but this little bitch, has been more of a liability."

"But Capt’n Sir, she gives herself to us now. Let’s keep her. The men like a wench to dip the cocks in when they are at sea."

"No good Jaz, I’ve arranged it with Doris."

Beatrice was crying in Jaz arms when Rory returned. "Look here Beatie, for a couple of weeks you’ll have a soft bed to lie on and all you’ll have to do is open your legs like any other whore and like you have to now. Come on. I ain’t wasting any more time."

Half the crew were already ashore getting drunk at the local taverns so Rory was able to take the girl without causing much notice. Even Emma didn’t know. Doris took the girl in looked her over and stated Beatrice had better do something about her appearance. She didn’t look much like an English Lady.

Another girl led her to a room where she was undressed, washed and perfumed. The girl was horrified at the bruises that still showed on her arse. They looked worse because Jaz had added a few slaps that morning when she tried to become her old truculent self now they were in port. As many of her clients were English seamen, the girl could converse a little with Beatrice but couldn’t fathom the whole story. She powdered over the bruises as best she could in the hope that any clients wouldn’t look that closely.

After being fussed over and pampered for a little while, Beatrice began to think, life here would be much better than on the boat. Perhaps when she earned enough, she could pay her own way home on a regular passenger boat. Little did she realise that nearly all the money she earned went to Doris. She only had a relative pittance.

Knowing Beatrice was only on short-term loan, Doris wanted to get her money quickly. She put up a notice.

For a short time only

We have a Genuine English Lady.

Lady Beatrice d’Lisle

If you can pay the price, you may do as you wish with her.

She didn’t really expect much as word would have to get around but it so happened that the notice was spotted and word passed to Count Kaiser von Darrenstein. He was rich, had rich friends and a hatred of the English aristocracy. During the following afternoon he called and booked Beatrice for the night for himself and his friends to use ‘as they pleased.’ With this one booking, Doris could pay off Rory and still be comfortably in pocket herself. She knew the Count had sadistic tendencies and expected Beatrice to be out of action for a couple of days so she allowed for that in the asking price.

Count Kaiser von Darrenstein arrived with four of his friends about eight in the evening. They were all in their early twenties and had been drinking most of the previous few hours. Now they were ready for sport and what better to provide the sport than one of the hated English nobility. Beatrice was hustled to a large room in the cellar and told to strip. She showed up white in the dim light but the Count wanted a better look and called for more lanterns. In the extra light her saw the bruises and spat out a stream of invectives in German. He complained of being sold soiled goods. One of his friends spoke more English and found the reason for the marks but it still did not satisfy the Count. He hit her face, kicked her arse and then picked up a whip and used it on any part of her body that presented itself. Had not the others restrained him she would have been killed. They laid her on the bed, gave her a little wine until she regained some of her senses and then began fucking her, not only in her cunt but one of them enjoyed her arse as well. Sobbing with pain, and drifting in and out of consciousness, Beatrice had to endure it for several hours before they sated themselves and left.

One of the girls found her and called Doris who did her best to revive and ease her pain. Bruises and whip marks covered the whole of the poor girl’s body. Blood ran from her broken nose. She would be unable to move for days and unlikely to work again before the ship returned. She cursed the Count for going too far.

*******

Emma was furious with Rory for having done such a thing to Beatrice. She verbally lambasted him and they had their first real row. She tried insisting he take her to Doris’s there and then but Rory had by that time gotten very stubborn and refused. Eventually things calmed a little when he agreed to see Doris in the morning. He took another slug of his whiskey and settled down on the bunk. Before long he was snoring. Rory rarely drank while at sea but usually in harbour when all seemed quiet, he made up for his abstinence. Emma knew their would be no love making that night and went on deck to get some fresh air, if the air in the port could be deemed fresh.

Jaz was depressed. His had not only lost his plaything, he had lost his status symbol as well. No longer did the crew have to come to him to ask to fuck Beatie. His day had passed as it often did in mending and repairing torn canvas so that evening he decided to take himself to the town. Maybe look in at Doris’s. She catered for all tastes and pockets, one side of the building for the seamen, the other for richer clients.

Jaz dressed in some decent clothes came on deck at the same time as Razer appeared similarly dressed. Jaz asked if he too was going to the town and they decided to go together.

"Wait!" Emma’s voice came clearly across from the other end of the ship.

"Miss Emma? You can’t come with us." It was Razer who answered.

"You know what they have done with your Beatrice, Jaz?"

"Yes, Miss. She’s in bad trouble. But we can’t do nothing."

"What do you say Razer? I Guess you’ve been to Doris’s before. Can we get her out?"

"Might be difficult Miss. They keep a lot of strong-arm boys there in case of trouble. We might all end up in a kraut jail. Even with the whole crew to back us up, we’d find it difficult."

There was more discussion and for a short while Emma leaned on the rail deep in thought. "Hmm. You want her back Jaz? You willing to work for a sovereign Razer?" Both agreed but looked stunned when she asked them to accompany her to the tax office.

"Why there? It’ll be empty." Razer was even more puzzled.

"No it won’t. They live above the office and I got invited yesterday. You can guess what for."

Their knock was answered by one of the officers still in his shirtsleeves. The other was lying on a bed reading. For what seemed ages to the two crewmen, Emma talked with the officers. Suddenly all seemed decided. The officers dressed in the full parade uniform with Emma between them and, with the two bewildered crewmen following behind, marched to Doris’s. Emma was really glad she hadn’t come alone. All along the way were drunken and unsavourary characters. There were whores touting for business and pimps trying to pressurise men into their dens. Marching attracted attention and soon a little crowd followed them but the five kept on until they arrived at the rich man’s entrance to Doris’s brothel.

At the desk, Emma requested in her best formal German to see Doris but was told she was unavailable. The senior of the two officers stepped forward and again formally but politely suggested it would be in her mistresses' best interest to see them now or maybe the whole place would be closed down by morning. Eventually she agreed to send someone to see if Doris was available. Minutes later Doris herself appeared.

Emma introduced herself, then asked if she knew the officers and receiving an affirmative nod, introduced her crewmen as her protectors. "Can we go somewhere private to talk?" Doris didn’t wish the crew to come with her but Emma insisted. "They won’t understand a word of our conversation but if I am harmed, then you and many of your staff will be too. But I hope we can do this all amicably. I am willing to negotiate and I am sure you will be too especially as one of the cards I hold is your unpaid tax bill. Hence my friends in uniform." The two officers clicked their heels and bowed.

"First of all I want you to have Lady Beatrice brought in here." Emma saw Doris’s face go white fore a moment.

"That cannot be, Fraulein."

"Please explain exactly why not? She is in the building is she not?"

"Perhaps, Fraulein Emma."

"Good, then either get her or take us to her. Or do we have to contact the Chief of Police as well as the tax office?" Doris couldn’t get to grips with the logic. The Chief she paid off so he wouldn’t be willing to pull a raid unless this young English girl who spoke German so well knew something she didn’t. Was it bluff? Or did she really know something? The Lady wouldn’t be of much more use to her for a while so why not try and cover her own arse?

"You know Capt’n Rory brought her here for us to use until he returned. It was such a short length of stay that when a rich client wanted to have her for the personal pleasure of himself and friends and he paid well, I hired her out to them for the whole night. However, they must have been unsatisfied with her as they left early and we found she had been the victim of some abuse. We have been caring for her since but it is obvious she will not be able to perform for us for some time."

"What do you mean by ‘the victim of some abuse?" How bad?" Emma’s voice was sharp.

"Pretty bad. They beat her up." Emma reflected that only a couple of weeks ago she would have been glad if Beatrice had been beaten and now she was being protective of her.

"Can she be brought here please so we can see for ourselves?"

"Ya. But be prepared. She looks bad but we are doing all we can for her. I think much of it is superficial. She should recover fine given time but we don’t have her for long." Doris went to the door and called for two girls to bring Beatrice down. Emma heard one of the girls say they might have to carry her as she wasn’t walking very well even so she wasn’t prepared for the sight as the girls half carried Beatrice into the room and sat her on a chair.

Jaz nearly went berserk and would have hurt Doris had not Razer on Emma’s orders, restrained him. He turned his attention to his little Beatie and gently and carefully held her. "We take her back to the ship, no matter what the Capt’n says," he muttered.

"Yes, we will," stated Emma.

The Tax officers were horrified too. They had seen the girl only in working men’s clothes but knew underneath she was quite pretty. Emma heard them question Doris while she looked over Beatrice’s injuries. Her face was badly bruised, swollen and distorted and when Emma lifted the thin nightdress she could see multiple of bruises that were obviously kick marks and the stripes made by the whip. Beatrice tried to talk but nothing really coherent came out.

"Shush, Beatrice. Don’t try and talk. We’ll take you back and I am sure Jaz will look after you and care for you. I will too. Don’t worry about Rory. I’ll deal with him. But first I must have a few more words with Frau Doris." Emma then launched into a virulent verbal attack on the incompetence of Doris to supervise and control her clients and suggested she must have known all along that they were going to harm her. She called the woman all the vilest names she knew in a flurry of words that for a moment or two left the others speechless. The two girls that had brought Beatrice down looked worried and pale. Eventually, when Emma paused for breath, Doris suggested they carry on any further conversation in English so as not to frighten her staff. She dismissed the two girls.

"Frau Doris. You obviously knew what the men were going to do as you said they paid you well. Maybe you didn’t expect them to go this far, but you knew they were going to hurt her and hurt her badly therefore you charged a high price. I know what Rory expected to receive from you when he returned. You will pay me double that now." Doris started to quibble and the conversation lapsed into German again but in a more business like way. In the end they agreed on a figure that was fifty percent higher than Rory’s but that was only after more threats of tax investigations.

Doris asked to go to the safe room to collect the money but Emma insisted the taxmen accompany her. While she was gone, they asked Beatrice if she wanted to stay here or be taken back on board the Red Witch and when she chose the ship they talked about how to look after her. Jaz of course said he would do it but the others wondered how she would cope if the passage got rough. In the end they decided to buy a good thick feather mattress for Jaz’s bunk and she would sleep there with or without Jaz.

Doris returned with the money and after the usual heel clicking, bowing and curtsying the party were escorted to the door. And they made their way back along the street. Jaz carried Beatrice like a baby in arms until the reached the tax office where they rested for a few moments. "Look after her boys," Emma said, "I have to pay my debt to the taxmen tonight." The others were perplexed but she shooed them off. "What do we tell Rory?" Razer asked.

"Nothing. I hope I am back before he wakes. If I am not back on board soon after breakfast come and get me."

"I am curious," said the younger taxman as they mounted the stairs to their room, "Where you learned to swear like that in German. I hear a lot of bad language in the docks but yours was more colourful than any."

"Carls," replied Emma, "My grandmother was German and she brought me up. To help him learn the language my grandfather bought some indecent books while over here, He said it gave him an incentive to learn. Of course while they lived I never saw them but they were among the things I inherited when she died.

Emma slept with the two. They fucked but for her she was only paying a debt. Without their help she would never have be able to get into Doris’s domain.

Chapter 7. False Punishment

Rory awoke. He had a sore head. He reached for Emma. She wasn’t there. Puzzled he looked around. It was light. Perhaps she was on deck. He scrambled on deck. Only the skeleton watchmen were around. "Seen Emma?" he growled at one of them.

"No. Capt’n. Ain’t been anyone around since we came on. Dead quiet."

Perhaps she went to the fo’c’s’le for company. I’ll gut anyone who is in bed with her. One night when I’m out of it and she goes to find another cock. Blundering madly he went to the crew’s quarters and then saw Jaz snuggled against a woman and it was only when he roughly turned her that he recognised Beatrice. Barely recognised Beatrice. "My God!" He looked horrified at the state of her face then stepped smartly back as Jaz’s fist came at his face. The knuckles grazed his beard but didn’t really connect.

"Leave ‘er Capt’n. You had her hurt enough." Jaz’s voice growled with menace.

"My God, I didn’t think Doris would have allowed this!" He then remembered why he was in the fo’c’s’le. "Where’s Emma? Is she responsible for bringing her back? You couldn’t have done it on your own. Tell, now Jaz or your face might match hers!"

"No it won’t Capt’n." Razer stood behind Rory. "Emma said she would be back in time for breakfast, if not I was to pick her up. She expected you still to be asleep and drunk."

"Where is she then? Not on the ship? Working in Doris’s instead of this one?"

"I can’t tell yer, Capt’n. All she said was she had to pay her debts. You’d best go on deck and wait. She won’t want me to disturb her unnecessary like." Fuming, Rory returned to the quayside rail. Emma was coming down the road escorted by the two taxmen. Surely she hadn’t spent the night with those two Krauts?"

The officers stopped a little way from the boat and after the usual formal departure gestures they waited as Emma walked to the gangplank. "Permission to come on board Sir," she asked brightly although she could see from his face that he was in a really bad mood.

"Where the bloody hell have you been? You spent the night with those pair of creeps? You responsible for Beatie being back?" Rory roared his questions at her. Most of the crew now lined the rail to see was to happen. Rarely did Rory lose his temper but when he did things could get nasty.

Emma stood and looked him straight in the eye. "Yes to all your questions, Capt’n."

"Slut!! I’m out of it for one night and you go off and find foreign cocks."

"Yes, Capt’n but only to put your wrongs to right. This is all your doing. It was one thing to have Beatrice thrashed for what she had done but quite another to sell her to a brothel. That just makes you a pimp!" Emma’s anger was now coming to the fore. She spat the word pimp at him with disgust.

"You meddled in my affairs bitch. You went against my orders. You knew the bitch couldn’t pay her fare. You deserve what she had."

"Oh I do, do I? Well let’s get it over with but afterwards sort your own tax out!" Walking to the hatch she threw her dress over her head and told the bo’sun to get his whip. Murmurs of dissent when through the crew. For many it was the first time they had seen her naked but certainly she was too popular for them to want to see her hurt. Emma carefully folded her dress, took the purse from around her neck and laid it on top.

"Don’t do it Capt’n!" Razer yelled.

"Hold your tongue. Anyone who deliberately goes against my orders get punished as you well know."

Razer looked around to see what backing he had to stop the whipping when the bo’sun returned followed by Jaz carrying Beatrice. Although still hardly able to talk, Beatrice croaked out "No!" but Rory was in no mood to lose face by listening to her or anyone else for that matter.

Again Razer yelled, "Don’t do it Capt’n!" but with his back to the captain the bo’sun just gave him and the rest of the crew a broad wink. They quieted and waited to see what would happen.

Slashing the splayed rope’s end harmlessly through the air with loud crack he then took up his position to one side of the splayed girl. Emma shivered. She had half-expected Rory to stop the proceedings before it got this far. Perhaps she really had pushed him over the edge. Perhaps she over estimated her position. Perhaps her success the previous day had gone to her head and made her underestimate Rory’s temper. His face was still black.

By the shadow cast on the deck she saw the bo’sun lift the whip. Her body tensed in anticipation of the pain it was to receive. Instead the rope landed gently on her buttocks. "One!" the bo’sun called. The crew cheered and clapped. "Two!" So it went on each stroke barely touching the flesh and each accompanied by a cheer.

In a way Rory was glad but he didn’t want to show it in front of the others. He roared at them, "Okay, get breakfast and then on with your work. Emma dressed but didn’t go to the cabin. She ate with the others and sat by Beatrice. As one, the crew were appalled by Beatrice’s injuries. It was one thing to punish her severely for what they perceived as wrong doings. It was all right to make use of her unwilling body but by a strange double standard it was not right to for foreigners to beat her unmercifully and to disfigure her.

The cook, seeing she couldn’t eat normal hard food concocted a thin gruel which Jaz was able to spoon feed to her and when he had to help load cargo Emma sat by her. In a very croaky voice and through swollen lips, Beatrice tried to say thank you. An unnatural thing for her to do but she knew Emma had largely been responsible for her being back on the ship and that in doing so, Emma had risked being thrashed and even now had an uncertain future here.

Rory never spoke to her for the whole day. She ate her meals with the men and either sat with Beatrice or examined any paperwork that came with the goods before passing them on to the mate who in turn passed them to the captain. When the loading was completed, and all the hatches battened down, apart from a few who had to stand watch, most of the crew adjoined to the taverns for their last evening in port. Emma offered to sit with Beatrice to allow Jaz to go out but he declined and Emma felt she was in the way as the pair cuddled gently in a corner of the deck. She stood at the rail looking out towards the harbour entrance and wondered how to resolve the impasse between her and Rory. So engrossed in her own thoughts was she that she didn’t hear Razer come up behind her and she started when the spoke, "Would you like to come to town with us?" Emma had already refused similar requests from other crewmembers but when she tried to reply this time only a little sob came out.

"We have to sort this out," Razer said quietly, "Otherwise the whole ship suffers. Have you told him all of what happened?" Emma shook her head and Razer could see tears running down her cheeks. "Go to him now, while it is quiet and before he gets a gut full of whiskey."

Again Emma shook her head, "I can’t walk in there when he doesn’t want me."

"Well if you can’t walk in you can go this way." In one swift movement Razer scooped the girl up and tossed her over his shoulder. Walking to the captain’s cabin he pushed open the door without knocking and went inside.

"Get out!!" Rory sat at the table a half-full glass of whiskey in front of him. The level in the bottle indicated it had just been opened. Razer dumped Emma on a seat, picked up the whiskey bottle and removed it from the table.

"Sorry, Capt’n but this is one time I have to disobey an order. And don’t think you are going to order me to be lashed cus you ain’t. ‘Cept for those on deck, and if you don’t shout they won’t hear, there are only the three of us to know what goes on. So before you make a further fool of yourself you had better listen to us and find out what really happened and not what you think might have happened. If you go on like today, you won’t have a crew by the time we gets back to Newcastle."

"I don’t need you to tell me what to do Razer!"

"Oh, but Capt’n, this is one time you do and you need to listen good. First to me and then to your girlfriend. When you’ve heard us, then if you want we’ll go and you can have a bit of a think before deciding what to do with us."

"Please Rory, please listen." Emma’s voice showed she was close to tears again. "We only did what we thought was right. We thought you made a mistake in taking Beatrice from Jaz and putting her in that brothel."

"I think we ought to start at the beginning miss," interrupted Razer, "So Capt’n just listen for a bit. After we finish you can ‘ave your whiskey back and we’ll go. Agreed?"

"Do I have a choice?" growled Rory.

"No. First of all you have to agree that Miss Emma has been a real help on this trip. Without her we would have paid far more in tax and likely we would have hardly started unloading so she saved us several days of delay. Then she got the agent’s fee reduced. I’m guessing but I reckon she more than saved the cost of both their fares to London first class, let alone working their passage."

"When she first came on board that other girl was a right bitch and no one liked her and many would easily have thrown her overboard but after the thrashing she mellowed quite a bit. Now with Jaz’s help she's sort of became a working member of the crew although she physically can’t do much. She could and did lay on her back and take the cocks of the men. Not willingly perhaps, but she took them and it gave Jaz status and he cared for her like a baby. And he still does. On board she was treated like an unpaid prostitute and then you take her to Doris to become a paid one. And what does she do but offer her for anyone to do anything to her if the price is high enough. Unfortunately those that hired her didn’t find her satisfactory for some reason and whipped and kicked the shit out of her. I think miss, you ought to continue with the story because so much was said in lingo that I couldn’t understand."

Hearing what Razer had said gave Emma her confidence back. She looked Rory straight in the eye and when he looked down, she told him to look at her. "Rory, in the short time I have been with you, I thought I knew you and I thought I loved you. I still do despite the bastard thing you did. You sold a girl to another for what was sexual slavery. To my mind that was utterly despicable. I lived with Beatrice as her maid and suffered greatly at her hands and yet I would never have stooped so low. When I heard what you had done, I was determined to get her out, even if she was only being used for normal prostitution. It would have taken an army to get into that place so I had to use other tactics and that involved the two taxmen. Using them I gained entry directly to Doris herself and eventually was able to bargain for her release. I also have the money she agreed to pay you but I think that more rightly belongs to Beatrice. However to gain the co-operation of the taxmen I had to pay them. They didn’t want money, they wanted me. I had to agree and in fact they were quite sweet and kind."

Rory started to say, "Slut!" but Emma silenced him. "No Rory, I had to do what I had to do because of you. You put Beatrice into prostitution and indirectly made me one too. It was necessary but that is all it was. I don’t love them although I do quite like them." Emma then reached down her dress and pulled out the bulging purse everyone had seen earlier in the day. She counted out the money Rory should have had from Doris. "There is your money. If you are a real bastard, take it. If you are the Capt’n I thought I knew, give it back and I will give it to Beatrice. It is not much by her home life standards but here it may help. I used my money to buy the mattress and things to make her more comfortable."

Rory stared at the money but didn’t touch it. After a minute or two he asked, "Where did you get the rest of the money?"

"Well it wasn’t by whoring, if that’s what you think!" snapped Emma. "Its all my commissions and...."

"And she got five sovereigns from that tight bugger Frazier," laughed Razer. That eased the atmosphere.

"You mean to tell me that you came aboard this boat with perhaps a few pennies and in a few days here you have earned all that much?" Rory was amazed. Emma just nodded. "And you saved me a great deal too in time and money."

Again Emma nodded before she spoke, "And gave you pleasure too." There was silence as she looked at the captain for some minutes before going on, "Please Rory, even if you won’t admit to making a mistake, please just try and ignore it. Please take me back. I do love you."

By way of reply, Rory pushed the money back to her, turned to Razer and said, "Razer, I thought you were going ashore!"

"Yeah, Capt’n, that’s what I am a going to do. You two have a good time." As he stood to go, Emma passed him a couple of coins and said, "Have a drink on me."

Alone with Emma, Rory spoke in a mock gruff voice, "Come her wench and let’s bare that bottom of yours. Get that dress off." She did so and stood naked before him.

"I think you best get out of your clothes too, before that bulge in your trousers gets too painful." It wasn’t long before he too was in the suit he was born in. He pulled her to him and before she realised what was happening she found herself across his lap, arse in the air.

Slap!! Slap!! "Did you think you were going to get away with making me lose face in front of the crew?" The slaps continued, They weren’t hard but they reddened her bum and made it tingle. Emma squirmed and wriggled but made no attempt to free herself and the spanking didn’t last long. They were both too horny for that. Soon she was on her back receiving long thrusts from his hard cock. That was the cock she really wanted.

Afterwards they lay still. "Let’s have a drink to celebrate your success," Rory suggested and then swore, "Bloody bugger, Razer went off with the whiskey!"

"What do we need the whiskey for when I have your cock and you have my cunt?" Emma fondled the soft prick for a while and then taking it in her mouth lay down on him, Rory surprised her by swinging her legs over his face and licking her mound. He sucked her clit while she did the same for his prick until it was fully hard again and he was able to thrust it in its love chamber once more.

They left Hamburg the next morning and headed into the Baltic. At first conditions were good but on the second day out, the weather changed for the worse. Squally showers made life below decks damp and miserable. Jaz did his best to tend to Beatrice but he had work to do so couldn’t be with her all the time. Rory didn’t apologise publicly but the crew knew he accepted that Beatie was back with them and in fact each day he did enquire how she was faring. Emma visited her and when she saw the conditions on the third day, she got Rory to agree to allow her to spend the daytime in their cabin. Conditions there were a little better but with all the hatches fastened down, the atmosphere was still far from ideal. Jaz was allowed to visit her and take his meals in the cabin too. By the fifth day out the weather improved a little and Beatrice was able to get on deck. She was still weak and needed help but the fresh air did her good and she didn’t need so much of the medicine to keep the pain under control. As if to reinforce the message that Beatrice was now accepted Rory and the rest of the crew stopped and spoke to her whenever possible. By the time they returned to Hamburg three weeks later, she was able to walk on her own and started once again to help Jaz with his work. Emma told her that she didn’t have to work, her ‘fare’ had more than been paid, but she just wanted to be near Jaz and wanted to keep her mind occupied and shut out the hell she'd been through. Seeing this, Jaz set her to making her own canvas holdall and while it took her a long while to complete, it was something she was proud of.

Emma had increased her savings in Danzig and again in Hamburg and when one expected cargo was not ready she was able to arrange a replacement. Now there were no more snide jokes concerning her job as the captain’s private secretary. She more than earned her keep and her place in the captain’s bunk.

On the return from Hamburg, Beatrice was violently sick and then complained of stomach pains and cramps. They discounted period pains as she hadn’t had a period since before she left England. She believed she was pregnant by one of the crew. A few hours later, there was a great flow of blood from her vagina and they assumed she had a miscarriage. No one had experience of this woman’s problem but she recovered after a couple of days.

Chapter 8. London

"You there man!" Jakes looked up from the deck of the Red Witch at the well-dressed young woman on the dockside. She looked completely out of place in the hurley burley of the East India Dock. A hansom cab stood behind her "Yes, my man, I am talking to you."

Jakes looked up again, "What can I do fer yer missie?"

"For a start you can answer me with a little more respect and then you can tell me the whereabouts of Lady Beatrice d’Lisle."

"And who might be askin’ for ‘er missie?"

"Lady Penelope Merryfield although that is really none of your business."

The arrogance of the reply put Jakes back up. "Dunno about any Lady missie. We only hes two girls in our crew, Emma who is the captain’s mate, and Beatie who is just a deck hand."

Penelope stamped her foot and again demanded to see Lady Beatrice.

"Sorry missie, I can’t do that but....."

"What’s up Jakes?" Emma came on deck.

"That missie up there says she’s a lady and is lookin’ fer a Lady Beatrice summat, Miss Emma."

Emma recognised Penelope and knew she was an erstwhile friend of Beatrice’s and had heard stories of their activities together. Now, having been used to being spoken to with respect, Emma’s hackles rose when in a shrill, haughty voice Penelope said, "Emma, take me to your mistress at once! This dolt here doesn’t seem to know who I am talking about."

Emma climbed the ratlines so she stood a little above Penelope and made it hard for the girl on the quayside to see her clearly against the sun and keep out of the way of the traffic which threatened to spray mud over her clothing. "First of all Miss Penelope Merryfield, you are not a lady, unless that is, you married a titled gentleman in the six weeks we have been away." Penelope went red in the face at what she saw as the insolence of the girl. "Secondly, I have no mistress. For the next half an hour or so until the captain returns, I am in charge of this ship. Is that right Jakes?"

It was a slight exaggeration but Jakes dutifully said, "Yes, Miss."

"Lady Beatrice," Emma continued, "Although she is still fully entitled to use that epithet, on board here is a plain deck hand and is known a Beatie. Hence Jakes would not have known whom you were talking about. I cannot take you to her at the moment because she and her partner Jaz are ashore shopping but they should return before eight bells when the cook serves a meal. If you would care to wait...." Emma paused, she could see Penelope was fuming although trying to keep herself under control.

"Of course I will wait but do you expect me to stand here of this wretched quay and wait?" Several of the crew returned and jumped across the gap between the wooden piles and the ship’s rail and, grabbing a rope, swung lithely on to the deck. Sensing something unusual, they stood around watching the scene.

"Are you asking for permission to come aboard, miss Penelope?"

"You don’t really expect me to ask YOUR permission do you?" Penelope spat the words out with contempt. "Get those layabouts to put a plank across that is if you really are in charge of this boat."

"Do you want us to help her on to the Red Witch, Miss Emma?" Razer was on the quay listening to what was going on. "There’s an easier way than a gangplank." Emma could see the glint in his eye.

"Yes, Razer, give her a hand. Once she is on board she is subject to ship’s discipline so she has to behave herself." Razer nodded to his mate and then called out, "Ready on board?" It was a call they used when heaving full sacks on the ship. Before she could understand what was happening, Penelope’s arms and ankles were gripped between the two men and she was swung backwards and forwards a few times before being flung to the waiting arms of the men on deck. Laughing they sat her on a hatch. It was certainly an easy way on to the ship but a very undignified one for a woman who thought she was a lady.

By now Penelope’s fury knew no bounds. She let forth a torrent of abuse at Emma and the crew, more of who were arriving. When the words had no apparent effect she picked up a rope and swung the end at Emma who had now returned to the deck. A hard fist grabbed her arm before is could be used. It was one of the older deck hands. "I think she needs to cool off a bit, Miss Emma."

"Yes, Frank," Emma replied and I think the Thames is the right place to do it."

"Don’t you dare touch me. I’ll see you hung for this treatment!"

"Take her dress off and put her in a bosun’s chair," Emma ordered. "Careful with that dress men. No leave her underthings on." The chair was a swing-like seat mainly used to pull men up a mast to work. They sat her in, tied her hands above her head and then to the halyard that led to the end of the main yard arm. By now a crowd of dockers and the crews from other ships had gathered on the quay to watch and shout suggestions as to what should be done with her. Penelope could have died from the shame and embarrassment. Soon she was swinging over the waters of the Thames now flowing briskly in the ebb tide.

"You can still apologise to all the crew for your behaviour," Emma called but the only reply was an unladylike "Bitch!"

Her feet were just about the foul river water when Beatrice and Jaz arrived. "What are you doing with Penelope? Beatrice asked. "Just cooling her temper a little," smiled Emma. Beatrice went to the rail and called out, "These people won’t stand any nonsense, Penelope. Just say you’re sorry and maybe I can ask them to bring you back."

"Oh, Beatrice, tell those stupid men and your jumped up maid to haul me back. They all deserve a good thrashing for the treatment I have received. They're a lot of impudent morons. Idiots! Do they really think they can treat a lady in this way?"

"Sorry Penelope. I am under them. Only the captain could spare you and even he probably wouldn’t, not after what you just called his crew. I know at first hand what punishments he deals out. You look to be getting off lightly."

The mate and the bo’sun had now arrived but stood back. They didn’t want to spoil the morning’s sport. Emma gave the signal to finally lower the girl into the water. Her legs touched and she was swept kicking and screaming into the stream. Gone now were all thoughts of dignity. The water was cold and smelled foul with all the effluent from the city draining into it. The water washed over her breasts and soaked her under garments till they clung tightly and revealingly to her body. Finally she was lowered until her head just ducked beneath the waves. They held her there for a few seconds before Emma gave the command to bring her aboard.

Rory arrived to witness the final ducking. He could see it would be foolish to interfere with the men so he allowed it to continue. Penelope now a soaked and shivering wreck was dumped on the deck in front of Emma. "Bo’sun, would you please detail two men to remove the remainder of her clothes and rub her down until she is dry. See they keep their cocks in their pants and then have her brought to my cabin."

"Yes, Miss Emma, We’ll see to that with pleasure." The Bo’sun was grinning as he said it.

"Beatrice and Jaz, perhaps you would like to come to my cabin too." Turning she saw Rory, "Sorry Rory, I didn’t know you were back. That is Miss Penelope Merryfields, she was one of Beatrice’s sadistic friends before we set out on this trip." She went on to explain what had happened.

Penelope was dumped in the cabin and given a blanket to wrap herself in. She was much quieter and subdued. Beatrice sat in front of her cuddled close to Jaz as usual. Penelope noted the fading bruises on her face and broken nose. "Did they do that to you?" she asked. "Not really and I still have many more all over my body." She lowered her seaman’s pants a little and showed her.

Eight bells rang. Rory asked, "Miss Penny, would you care to stay for lunch? It may help to get some warm food in you, and then afterwards we’ll give Beatie a half hour off work so you two can chat together."

They talked some while they ate and Penny found out why they hadn’t arrived on the packet boat and in turn they heard how Lord Henry had driven to Newcastle when he had been notified Beatrice hadn’t arrived in London. At the quay he learned they had taken the Red Witch and from the agents had found her route and probable destination time in London. It wasn’t then difficult to persuade the dockmaster with a few coins, to let Penelope know when the ship arrived.

Jaz was very reluctant to leave Beatrice alone with the woman but was sent away with a promise she would call him if she needed him. Penelope was utterly amazed at Beatrice’s change in attitude towards men and life in general. She was astounded by the stories she had to tell about what happened to her. How Emma rescued her. How Emma was now in semi charge of the ship and how she was a lowly deck hand and didn’t really mind it. She hated the seasickness but in good weather there were compensations. "Penelope, I may have been through a lot of pain but really my life is now much more fulfilling. These people hated me when I first came on board. For over a week I was just a hole to put their cocks in. Any one and every one used me. But after the brothel experience only Jaz has had me and he does so with love. His is my protector. All the others treat me with a respect I never knew at home. Here they respect me for what I am. At home they respected me through fear of the whip."

Beatrice’s half-hour off work turned into a hour until Jaz came to say she was needed to help splice some rope. Penelope again looked astounded. "They actually make you work? With your hands?"

"Yes. Put your dress on and I will show you," and when Penelope looked uncertain, she added, "No one will hurt you if you are with me and don’t shout obscenities at them." As they passed the cook Beatrice asked if he had sent any food to the cabbie still patiently waiting. She was assured he had. Penelope was even more surprised he had been thought of.

For a while, she watched Beatrice thread and tuck rope ends and then decided she ought to go. Will you be going back to Newcastle or will you come with me to my London place?" From what she had seen, she already knew the answer. In any case how could a girl with a bruised, distorted face attend a society ball? "I’ll send the cabbie with your trunk. We collected it from the packet boat and you may want some of the dresses later."

Beatrice took her back to the captain and Emma. Without any hesitation, Emma shook her hand and said she was sorry for what happened earlier, then with a laugh added, "It will give the men something to talk about for years to come. You will be famous on every dockside in the kingdom." Penelope didn’t wish for that sort of fame but after what Beatrice had told her, she had much more respect for Emma.

******

Lord Henry was waiting at the dock in Newcastle when the Red Witch sailed in. He had received word from Penelope a few days earlier. His eyes scanned the deck but he couldn’t pick out his daughter. He could see Emma by the wheel but most of the others were either scattered around the deck or hauling on a long warp to slowly pull the ship into her berth. Then he thought he spotted her but was still uncertain. What looked like a woman in men’s clothing was at the end of the warp coiling it down. Her face was hidden but when she looked up he knew for certain it was Beatrice. Beatrice was doing manual work. How could that be? The only thing he knew she used her hands for was to wield a cane or finger herself. Yet here she was with a bunch of scruffy, swearing men, seemingly quite a home.

When the warp was all in, Beatrice produced some short lengths of twine from a back pocket and tied the coils neatly. One of the men took the heavy bundle a stored it away. Now Beatrice could look up and to her horror saw her father. All the way from London she had debated what to do when she arrived at Newcastle. Should she go straight home and back to her old life? Certainly she wouldn’t return to her old ways. Her life over the past two months had changed her completely. Should she stay on the ship for another voyage or two?. She wasn’t keen on that either. The sea was fine when the weather was good but now it was turning colder with more frequent storms. While to some extent she had overcome seasickness, it still reoccurred in bad weather. However, she didn’t want to leave Jaz. Two months ago she would have treated him with utter contempt but now she loved him. He was more of a man than most of the fops in her social group. He could control her firmly and he had a good-sized cock that filled her with pleasure. He loved her too and looked after and protected her. He showed her how to do things, how to make things, how to treat others. No she didn’t want to leave him. But would he leave the sea? She couldn’t see him fitting in at the mansion. Nor could she see her father accepting him as a suitable mate for her. What should she do?

Seeing her father brought all the questions to the fore again but they were interrupted by a yell from one of the crew, "Beatie, finish coiling down some of these other lines." She immediately turned and set to the task. Could this really be his daughter? Lord Henry could hardly believe what his eyes told him.

Emma had also spotted her former employer on the quay and wondered what he thought of his daughter working. Soon the deck was reasonably clear and work began on removing hatch covers. Beatrice had disappeared into the storeroom. Emma invited Lord Henry on board. Henry was not pleased, "Why," he thought, "Was a maid acting as hostess when his daughter, a lady, was doing men’s manual work?" Nevertheless he stepped aboard. "Perhaps Sir, you would care to sit in our cabin while I see what Beatrice is doing."

"LADY Beatrice to you girl!"

"I’m sorry Sir, but we don’t have that distinction on this ship. Here she answers to Beatie."

"You insult her girl!"

Just then Rory put his head round the door. Emma, still acting like a hostess formally introduced them.

"Where’s my daughter captain?"

Just then eight bells sounded. "Grub time," Rory said, "She will be on deck for that. I’ll send her here and she can bring a plate for you too. Then we’ll leave you alone for a while and the two of you can have a chat."

"Please be seated M’lord. I am sure your daughter will be along shortly. You will notice quite a change in her. She is not the person she was. She has been through a lot of pain but has also received friendship and help as well as love."

"I will hear what she has to say for myself and then I will take her back to the hall with me. Now get out before I have you thrashed for insolence."

"I am sorry you feel that way, Sir. On this ship only the captain and a few others are above me in status. All others, including Beatrice, take orders from me."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" called Emma. Beatrice entered still wearing her seamen’s clothes and bringing two plates of food. Emma smiled at her and the smile was returned. Beatrice turned to her father, "Sorry I wasn’t expecting company so I’m still in my work clothes."

Emma took her departure.

"What is the meaning of this Beatrice? Why are you working as a deck hand? Why is your face bruised and your nose bent? What on earth has been going on? Did these people do this to you?"

"Stop father, stop." Beatrice held up her hand. "It is a very long story which I may tell you one day. For now it is sufficient to say that although I have been punished on this ship the marks you still see were done to me in a German brothel nearly two months ago. They are healing well but it will me a little while before they disappear and my nose will probably be forever crooked."

"I’ll see them hung for this!"

"No father, these people are my friends. Perhaps the only real friends I have. They make me work, yes, but they looked after me. I didn’t have to work when Emma raised enough money to pay my fare but I decided to. I decided that for myself. No one made me."

"But you are a Lady Beatrice. Ladies don’t do things like that. Go and change into some proper clothes and I will take you home. You can’t travel with me looking like that."

"No, father. I am not coming with you. I will come for a visit in two days time when the ship is unloaded and my job ends but I will decide my own future from now on. My face won’t let me be a debutante and any of your friends who say they want to marry me will only be doing it for the money or estate. In any case I have a man and I will live with him either married or not." All through the conversation Beatrice’s voice was quiet, in complete contrast to Lord Henry’s.

"Girl, you don’t know what you are saying. Before you left you regarded all men with abhorrence, now you say you have a man you want to live with! One of these seamen? You must be joking! You are out of your mind. I won’t allow it."

"Father," Beatrice spoke with conviction, "If I wish to wed a seaman, then I will. Even if you cut me off without a penny, I do still have money of my own. Enough to buy a house or start a business. But as yet I haven’t decided what to do. These last two months have been incredible. I have been through hell and come out the other side. When I first stepped on this ship, I was a hated woman. Now every one would do what they could to help me. I am respected. Was I liked and respected at home? You know the answer to that as well as I do. I was respected only because I wielded a whip, a whip I had never felt and had no real idea of the pain it caused. I had servants raped. You have raped too. Now I have been raped myself, many times and I know from bitter personal experience what it is like and I will never do it again. I have changed father."

"They raped you? Whipped you? We could hang the lot of them for that!"

"No father, I wouldn’t say anything against them. They are my friends now. No one rapes me now, but I do spend my nights with the man I love. I am probably pregnant."

"They have turned you into a slut!"

"No father, into a woman. A woman with values and now a little skill, not much but I am learning."

"I’ve heard enough. Get your clothes and be ready to come with me in fifteen minutes."

"No father, I will not. You do not seem to have understood one word I have said. I am staying here for two more days at least. Then what I would like to do is to come home to you for a week or two to see how I fit in. Then I, and I only, will decide on whether to return to the ship or move into a place of my own."

"How do you know I won’t lock you away?"

"Father, despite what you say now, you love me and will allow me to do what is best for me." She went and threw her arms around him and with tears gave him a hug. Breaking away he took his hand, "Come," she said, "I’ll give you a tour of my world. Its squalid, it smells, it’s damp and at times miserable but it has been my home through many life altering experiences. Come."

Lord Henry wanted to refuse but his daughter’s enthusiasm drew him along. As she passed member of the crew she spoke to them and they always answered with pleasantries and humour even though it vexed his lordship to hear her called by the common name, Beatie. She showed him where she slept and mentioned she was against the ship's side while Jaz was nearer the edge. Henry thought the space hardly adequate for one person let alone two. He was astounded that she slept in a room with a dozen other men and yet she said they didn’t molest her.

She took him to the area where she worked with Jaz on the sails and showed the bag she had made and how she could splice and back splice a rope. Returning to the deck she found Jaz and introduced him as ‘her man’. "He’s protected me, nursed me and saved me from a lot of harm," she told he father.

"And given you a baby!"

"I don’t know that for sure yet." Jaz asked if it was really true and again she repeated it would be a few more weeks before she was certain. Jaz seemed delighted and even in front of her father gave her a cuddle and kiss. Lord Henry’s face darkened but Beatrice simply said, "Now father don’t be grumpy again. I am happy to have his child and I think he will make a good father."

"When he is away at sea all the time I suppose," challenged her father.

"No Sir, if she does have my baby I get a shore job sailmaking. I’ll look after the kiddie. We might be poor but we won’t starve."

Beatrice took her father aft again and saw Emma. "Father, Emma has done much for me that she needn't have done especially as I thrashed her in order to make her accompany me. She has also saved the ship a lot of money and made a pile herself. She really is a private secretary as well as being the Capt’n’s woman. She’s the one who organised my release from the brothel and with Jaz tended my wounds."

It was time for Henry to go. "Will you not change and come with me?" he asked again.

"No father, but I would be pleased if you would ask Jones to pick me up in a two days time." Henry was amazed that she didn’t order him to send Jones. "I will stay with you for a week or two and decide what to do with the rest of my life. At the moment everything is a whirlwind. So much has happened. I must talk with Jaz too to see what he wants to do. Perhaps a week or two apart will help us both know our own minds."

They went to the carriage. Jones was patiently waiting. "Jones, would you mind coming to pick me up from here in two days please?" For a moment Jones was lost for words. He vividly remembered the abuse he got for being late on the outward journey. "Certainly Miss Beatrice."

Chapter 9 Home

Beatrice was ready when he arrived. Two crewmen carried her trunk and set it on the coach. She thanked them and then there was a succession of tearful good-byes. Jaz was the last. He was very upset at her leaving. He firmly believed she would never come back to him. "What?" he argued with himself would a titled lady want to do with a poor sailmaker?"

It was a cold but bright day. Beatrice wore a warm dress and a thick overcoat so instead of travelling inside the coach she sat alongside Jones. She wanted to feel the air on her face like she had for most of the previous few months. For the first hour she sat quietly wrapped in her own thoughts. Jones knew his place and didn’t attempt to make conversation but he could sense a definite change in the girl at his side. He didn’t know what had caused such a radical change but felt it was for the better.

Passing through a village Beatrice suggested they stop at the local inn for some refreshment. She ate her pie and drank her pint of ale with him and a couple of local men. Soon she began to open up and talked with the men. It was an hour and another pint later before they left. The locals had no idea they were talking to Lord Henry’s daughter.

Her father was out when she arrived so she went straight to her room. Elizabeth, one of the younger maids who had been forced to share Beatrice’s bed on many occasions and felt the power of her cane. They had all heard from Jones after he had been to the boat two days ago but no one really believed him. Elizabeth had not been unresponsive to her mistress’s sexual attention but fear of punishment has curbed her involvement.

"Lizzie, I would just love to have a bath. I haven’t had a proper warm bath since I left." She smiled to herself and then went on, "I had a shower though. We had a heavy rainstorm one hot day and everyone went on deck and stripped off and washed himself or herself down. Emma and I were the only women. Two naked women amongst twenty or more naked men."

"How embarrassing for you Miss."

"Not really. By then we all knew what each other looked like. Rory and Emma washed each other as did Jaz and I."

"Oh, Miss! Shall I have the bath brought up now?"

"No, don’t bother. I’ll have it next to the copper. It will make less work and will be warmer in there. Can you ask cook to make sure there is enough water please?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Oh, and Lizzie, would you mind assisting me?"

"Of course I will Miss."

Half an hour later Beatrice was being undressed in the scullery. Lizzie was shocked at the bruises and whip marks that still showed on her body especially those on the inner thighs and where she had been kicked between the legs. She also noticed how Beatrice’s muscles now seemed firmer and how rough her hands were. In the last few weeks she had done more manual work than the maid.

Elizabeth carefully soaped and washed her mistress. Beatrice languished in the luxury of the hot water and the gentle attention she had not had since she left. The maid paid special attention to the breasts. She not only washed them but seeing her mistress made no attempt to stop her, indeed she thrust the mounds out, massaged the nipples until they stood erect. "That’s nice Lizzie. Girl’s hands are so much more tender than a man’s even when he is trying to be gentle."

Lizzie’s attentions now turned to her mistress’s cunt and soon had her moaning with pleasure until she climaxed. "Thank you Lizzie. I’ve had many cocks and enjoy a good fuck but I still like the pleasure a woman can give. Perhaps you would like to come to my room tonight?"

"If you wish, Miss." Lizzie was amazed by the change in Beatrice. Amazed at her down to earth language and the fact she accepted men into her body. Before she had left, all men were treated with contempt.

Henry returned in time for dinner but the conversation between them was very stilted. He did not want to accept what had happened. He wanted things to be as they were. The bath had shown up her facial bruises and the bent nose slightly filled him with disgust. This was not the pretty daughter who had grown up with him. She also had a quiet authority now and was willing to challenge him. And she did not keep herself aloof from the servants. He had heard about her bathing in the scullery but did not bring the subject into the conversation.

Lizzie came to her later in the evening and the two girls sported themselves naked on the bed. Except for her time with Penelope, Beatrice never bothered herself with giving the servants any pleasure, today she gave the maid as much pleasure as she received. They fingered and sucked each other until the fell asleep in each other's arms.

Beatrice though could not sleep for long. The house seemed so quiet after ever-present background noise of the ship. The creaking of timber, the snoring of the seamen, the rush of water, the motions as the ship bucked the waves. Now it was deathly quiet. Beatrice put on a nightdress and taking the oil lamp that was still alight although turned down low, went out on to the landing. She was going to sit in the drawing room for a while but she saw the light was still on in her father’s room. Lightly she knocked and then looked in.

Rachel, a comely girl from the kitchen staff was lying with her face buried in Henry’s groin, obviously sucking his cock.

"Sorry, father," Beatrice said, "I couldn’t sleep it’s so quiet and I saw your light on and thought it might a quiet time when we could talk."

"You’ve finished with Elizabeth then? Or is she too sore to do any more?" Her father’s remarks were sarcastic and intended to hurt her, then his voice softened. "No, don’t go. This one will be finished in a minute, then we can talk."

"Elizabeth is sleeping without a sore bum. Not like this one whose cheeks are rather flushed." Beatrice put her hand on the girl’s arse and gently rubbed it. "I’ve had too many thrashings in the last few months to want to inflict them on others. I’ve changed father, as you have probably noticed."

Henry groaned a little and held Rachel’s head firmly to his cock. "Swallow it girl," he said as his spunk went down her throat, "I don’t want any mess on the bed." Moments later he released her and she sat up displaying her large tits to Beatrice’s gaze. She was older and plumper than Elizabeth and her breasts were very much larger. Beatrice vowed to have her in bed one night.

"Off you go to your own bed tonight, Rachel, Beatrice wishes to discus family matters with me." Beatrice could see the girl was glad to get away and to get away without another hiding. She started to give her father an outline of the events that happened since she left but he was only half interested. He was more interested in his daughter as a woman. Rachel might just have made him cum but his cock was still half-hard and had he not been interrupted he would have fucked the cuddly little bitch.

Beatrice shivered in the cool night air. Lord Henry saw his chance. "You had better get under the bedclothes before you catch cold," he suggested. Although she part suspected his motive Beatrice climbed in beside him. Henry’s arm went around her and pulled her close but it was no fatherly hug. The hand grabbed a tit and squeezed it, then, seeing it was not pushed away, began to manipulate the nipple through her nightdress. Emboldened, he put his other hand over her cunt and massaged that. It was still full and puffy from her previous session with Elizabeth. "Father," Beatrice said quietly, "You shouldn’t be doing this but after what all the other men have done, what does it matter? Just be gentle. I haven't fully recovered from the beating the German count gave me." To make access to her body easier, she slipped the nightdress over her head and dropped it on the floor.

Henry climbed on top of her and inserted his now hardened prick in his daughter’s love box. It went in easily. Her channel was moist from her previous activity and Henry’s prick wasn’t as thick as Jaz’s. She tried to contract her virginal muscles but even so there seemed little friction. Henry didn’t seem to notice. He plied his cock in and out with gusto. It was a dream come true but he wished he had done it before she left. When she was still a virgin. When she still disliked men. When he could have sensed the pain in her. But his imagination helped. He was fucking his only daughter.

Before long he shot his load into her, waited a few minutes and then withdrew his cock and placed it on her lips. Without hesitation she opened them and sucked him clean. "They certainly seem to have trained you on that boat," Henry remarked, "What about your other hole? Did they use that too?"

"Of course they did. Father you have to remember at one time I was fucked by at least twelve different men each day and being sailors many preferred my arsehole. In the fo’c’s’le they often did that to each other and especially to the boy. On a one occasion we were both bent over a stool, side by side while they fucked us. There seemed to be some sort of competition to see who could do it the hardest. At first it hurt like hell but then after the initial penetration, it got easier. When they finished with us, the boy was made to lick my arse and cunt clean and then I had to clean his hole, then suck his cock. Even after that the boy would have to sleep with one of the men and before sleep came another cock would have entered him. Jaz was on deck doing some repair work otherwise he would have prevented it. I had to go to his bunk afterwards without telling him but he was much more gentle although his cock is larger than most. He tried to protect me from the worst excesses of the crew during the first week especially as my arse was one large blister after the rope’s end flogging."

Beatrice was now nestled into her father’s body her hand very gently massaging his cock. It was soft and sensitive so she touched it with care. "Beatrice, tell me what else they made you do," her father whispered in her ear.

"You just want to know the horny bits?" Henry nodded. "Well I have told you how I was flogged but another part of the punishment was at every eight bells, that’s every four hours to you. I was laid on the hatch were I had been flogged and two of the seaman who were going off watch could have me in any way they liked and this was seen by everyone on deck. It was a public spectacle. As I said, they had me in every hole and nearly always I was made to mouth clean them afterwards. Besides these sort of official rapes, I was often made to submit to the men in the fo’c’s’le when the captain or Jaz wasn’t watching, like the time with the cabin boy. One or two had even more perverted idea. Booner, I don’t know his real name, must have been nearly seventy and rarely could he get a proper hard on but I still had to service him. He would sit on a high stool and I would suck on his soft cock. If I didn’t get him hard in five minutes, he would piss down my throat. A couple of others followed his example."

"I must get to try that with the maids," thought Henry.

Gradually they drifted to sleep but Beatrice woke first and crept back into her room. Elizabeth was still sleeping.

Morning came and Beatrice awoke early. So did Elizabeth. "I ought to go to the kitchen, Miss," the young girl said.

"I’ll come down for breakfast when I am ready," Beatrice answered, "First though I think I will try and talk more with my father. Tell the others not to disturb us. It's about my future here."

Beatrice went back into her father’s bedroom. He was still asleep and didn’t appreciate being woken even by his daughter who again had removed her nightdress. "I thought we ought to continue our conversation of last night." She pulled the bedclothes down to reveal his cock hard with piss.

"Pass the pot girl. I need to pee." He did so and lost his erection.

"Now let’s get you nice and hard again so you can try my other hole. I know you wish that so you can say you have had me all three ways."

It wasn’t long before Henry was pounding in and out of her arse. "Certainly tighter than her cunt," he said to himself, "Must try it more often with the girls. Haven’t had a girl’s arse since one time at the Lodge when the girl was strapped down for a thrashing and afterwards we all took turns in her bum hole because she was on her period. I was the fourth one so she was more lubricated than this and less tight. Perhaps I’ll try Rachel tonight. Daresay she hasn’t had it up there before and after I warm her bum cheeks a bit, it will make her squeal."

******

After her life at sea, the stay at the hall seemed very tranquil. In fact it was boring. Even with occasional visits to her father’s room and her nightly dalliance with various maids. She felt she was just killing time.

Lord Henry went to the Hunting Lodge and offered to take Beatrice but she declined. Penelope was still in London and, apart from servants, she would be a lone woman. After thinking about it for a long time, she summoned Jones and took what money she could lay her hands on, which was not an inconsiderable amount, and asked him to take her to Newcastle. The Red Witch was away and not expected back for another two weeks. Jones enquired for some decent lodgings and helped her move in. Beatrice spent the time looking at businesses especially at one where the old sailmaker had retired and it was now going downhill. Shrewdly she decided to wait till Emma returned to help her bargain over the price, and to find out if Jaz still wanted to settle down with her.

Finally the wait was over, the Red Witch was coming alongside the quay. Each day for the past week she had waited by the harbour wall with all the other wives anxiously looking out to sea. Two of the wives of her fellow crewmen were there and when the boat was tied up all three clasped and hugged their men folk. Beatrice then sat and talked with Jaz for a long while. He was in favour of settling down with her and was enthusiastic over having a sail making business but was unsure that Lord Henry would leave them alone. In the end they went and saw Emma and enlisted her help with buying the business. Luckily, the ship had made larger than expected profits on the last two trips, largely thanks to Emma’s haggling with agents, so Rory had decided to dock the Red Witch for a re-fit and repairs. This meant they would be staying for two or maybe three weeks which helped with the business transfers and setting up house in the rooms above the sail loft.

Epilogue

Beatrice had a baby girl, followed at regular eighteen month intervals by three boys. The d’Lisle Sailmaker’s business prospered and became known for its high quality work. Lord Henry did try and stop his daughter from marrying Jaz but as the first baby was nearly due and in any case it was only a matter of months before she was twenty-one and wouldn’t need parental permission, he relented and gave his consent. By then the couple had ‘lived in sin’ for a further four months and he saw how much they cared for each other. Beatrice occasionally went to stay with her father but never again went to his bed. She still liked now and again to take one of the working girls to her bed. It was a gentle relaxation for the toils of the day and a contrast to the more forceful fucking Jaz gave her.

Finis