Bag Lady

Synopsis

Margaret, after being abused by her father, is thrown on to the streets and is picked up by an ex-Colonel who takes her as his housekeeper mistress for his home, an old workhouse. One of her jobs is to type and translate a coded journal giving details of the life of past inmates of the workhouse. Gradually the modern lives and those of a past era become intertwined.

Bag Lady

by obohobo

Please take note!

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

MF FF NC Rom and many other sexual variations

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 2004

The first chapter lay dormant for over a year but once restarted, words wouldn't stop coming until it became so long (nearly 600Kb in Word).

Chapter 1. Picked up

"Get yourself out of my doorway you dirty old bag." The shop had long ago closed but the owner stayed inside finishing his paperwork. Now he wanted to leave and wait in the shelter of the recessed doorway until his wife drove by to pick him up. There was no way he was going to share the shelter with that smelly bundle of rags that had no business to be on his property. What did it matter to him that she had nowhere to go? What did it matter to him that it was cold and the rain was blasting its way horizontally along the street? It was obviously her own fault she had no money. Had no home. Probably drank all her support money. She just needed to make the effort to get herself a job. "Hurry up, hag. Move yourself or I’ll have to call the police to move you." His tone was menacing and loud. Muttering, grumbling and swearing more to herself than anyone, the woman picked up the two plastic bags that contained all her possessions, pulled her ragged overcoat tighter around her body and shuffled out into the street. She was already cold and wet through. While waiting for his wife the owner decided perhaps now was time for him to have a security grill across the recess, like every other shop in the street. It would save the increasing problem of these down and outs sleeping in his doorway, pissing and leaving rubbish for him to clean up when he arrived for work each morning.

The woman plodded across the street to the bus shelter opposite knowing it would only be a temporary respite from the weather and wouldn’t provide a good place spend the night. The open sides gave little protection from the driving rain and in any case when more passengers for the late night bus arrived she would be pushed out. At the moment only one person stood waiting for the rural bus. "Perhaps he won’t mind too much and by the time the next bus comes maybe the rain will have eased and I can make the half mile to the walkway between the two supermarkets," she thought. The walkway was undercover for much of its length. However she knew that there too, resting would only be temporary. Security would come along every few hours and move her.

"Do you want somewhere to sleep for the night?"

Startled, the woman looked up at the distinguished looking man waiting for the bus. "What could he want with her?" she wondered. "Surely he wasn’t looking for cheap sex? He looked well enough off for something better than she. Best ignore him."

"Do you want somewhere to sleep for the night?" the man repeated in a slightly louder and more commanding voice.

"I’m not a cheap whore," muttered the woman.

"I wasn’t asking to fuck you woman," annoyance showing in the man’s voice, "I was asking if you wanted a bed to sleep in tonight. I wasn’t referring to my bed but I do have a spare room, several in fact. You will have to have a bath first but you will have a room and a bed to yourself."

"If it’s a hostel, I’ve no money. None at all." Her voice broke and she started sobbing quietly.

"I can see that lady." Checking the time by his watch he went on, "If the bus is on time, it will be here in five minutes. If you want a bed for the night, get on it. I will pay your fare." Although the woman didn’t really believe there would be no strings attached to the offer, nevertheless she decided they couldn’t be worse than spending the night getting colder and colder and being moved from one wet place to another. If her life continued like this for much longer she’d be in hospital or dead. In any case life with the man couldn’t be any worse than it had been at home. She was already shivering and her shoes squelched with water as she walked. When the bus came she boarded it. At first the driver told her he didn’t want her sort on his bus but relented when the man paid her fare. Knowing there would be few other passengers on an atrocious night like this, he thought there wouldn’t be any complaints about her smell.

"Will you let me know when we are at Pennydelset please?" The man sat near the driver, "I’m fairly new here and don’t usually use the bus. Car’s in for service."

"Whereabouts in Penny?"

"Workhouse Lane. I’ve inherited the old workhouse."

"Whatcha starting it up again?" The driver nodded towards the passenger in the back.

"No, too many rules and regulations these days. It’s still got many of the beds in though. Most likely I’ll have to get it converted into flats or something."

Forty-five minutes later after a tortuous journey around the local villages that took twenty minutes by car, they alighted from the bus at a tiny village with only one small streetlight. It was very dark. The rain still sheeted down in torrents. The bag lady looked around but could see nothing except the one light some way along the road. Producing a small torch, the man led the way along a gravel drive. "It’s only about a hundred and fifty yards to the house," he shouted to make himself heard over the wind and rain. Bag lady now her shivering had ceased from the warmth in the bus, looked fearfully around and wondered if she had done the right thing. In this isolated, dark place, he could do anything to her and no one would know. But what did it matter? Her life now was hell. It had been bad for years, ever since her childhood but the last couple of weeks were hell, sheer hell.

A powerful security light came on as they rounded a bend in the drive. It dazzled the woman who wasn’t expecting it. "We’re here now," the man said as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys. He ushered her inside, and along a varnished wood block hallway into the kitchen.

"Hang your coat over the back of that chair and get the rest of your wet things off and into the washing machine."

Sounds like a military man, bag lady thought to herself as she fumbled with the buttons of her coat and watched the man drape his mackintosh and beret over a chair and carried it nearer the Aga cooker. Finally she undid the last button and sloughed the coat to the flagstone floor. The man picked it up, shook some of the rain from its surface and hung it over another chair and moved it alongside his. Bag lady hung her old felt hat on a nearby peg, shook her wet tangled hair and straightened her body. Her eyes took in the massive size of the kitchen, bigger than the ground floor of her old home. Large scrubbed pine table in the centre, cabinets with utensils all neatly stashed. Windsor bow-backed chairs. Large, solid fuel cooker. All reminiscent of a past era. At least it was warm. She could feel the cosy warmth on her face, it made her feel drowsy.

"Get all those wet things off and into the washer." Again the order was barked out as if giving instructions to a subordinate. It jerked her back to reality. Bag lady took the top layers of clothing off but hesitated when she was down to her shirt and skirt. "Everything. No need to be shy here. I’m not going to rape you. I won’t harm you." Slowly she removed the remainder of her things watched closely by the man until only her bra and knickers were left. Her benefactor, if indeed he was, showed some surprise as the woman emerged from an excess of garments. She was much younger than he had thought. He now guessed thirty-five to forty years old. Obviously undernourished because her ribs stood out but she was well built and had breasts that had barely started to sag. However, it wasn’t these that caught his attention. Her whole body was covered with welts. Most were now fading but some on her backside still showed clearly even though, as he rightly guessed, they were a fortnight old.

"Those too. Into the machine." He indicated the bra and knickers, "You don’t have anything different to every other woman." For the time being he ignored the stripes on her body. Bag lady tried to cover her breasts and pubic area with her hands. "Time we were introduced," the man went on, "Colonel Jeremy Saunders-Smythe. Most people just call me Colonel or Sir." He held out his hand.

Bag lady shook it carefully with her cold wet hand and said, "Margaret Smith." For the first time for a while Margaret smiled at the incongruity of the situation. Such a formal introduction when she was naked and he fully dressed. "Doesn’t anyone call you Jeremy or Jerry?" she asked.

"Family call me Jeremy. No one since school days has dared to shorten it. Is yours shortened to Maggie?"

"Not until yours is shortened too." Some of her old spirit was returning.

"Touché. Bath now. Follow me."

Again the bathroom was impressive in its size. Black and white chequered tiled floor and walls. Large cast iron bath. Toilet with a mahogany seat, polished brass hinges and the inside of the bowl decorated with a blue flower pattern. Soft lambs wool mat alongside the bath. "Use the loo if you need to while I fill the tub. Sorry I don’t have anything other than Johnson’s Baby Bath to put in the water. Haven’t had any lady guests yet."

"Please," Margaret said, "Please leave me to do it on my own."

"Just get on with it woman. You’ve probably been squatting in public places for some time. Sit and have your piss. The water will be ready shortly." Indeed the water was already gushing, gurgling and spitting out of the ancient brass taps. Margaret sat and with the sound of running water in her ears, couldn’t help but relieve her bladder. She blushed with embarrassment but the Colonel ignored both it and the smell that emanated from her unwashed body. She should have been used to being in a bathroom and performing with men in the same room but it seemed different with this stranger; this Colonel Jeremy Saunders-Smythe.

"Okay Margaret, into the bath with you." The nude woman flinched as his hands wrapped around her back touched her flesh to steady and lower her into the warm water. For the first time in two weeks she had the luxury of a bath and she tried to thank the man but only a few mumbles came from her mouth. When her bottom touched the bottom of the bath she winced but the Colonel still ignored it. Questioning could wait until later.

"What are you going to do with me?" Margaret questioned.

"Tonight, nothing. In the morning we’ll discus your options which will include going back to living on the streets. For now though, I’m going to make us some tea and will bring it here as soon as it is ready. Leave the door ajar. Later we’ll eat. It sure looks as if you could do with something inside your belly, Margaret. You take sugar?" With these words the man left, returning some ten minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea. Hers he placed on the end of the bath, then he lowered the toilet seat lid and sat down.

"Feeling a little more civilised now?" Without waiting for an answer he went on, "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know. Not really much to tell."

"Just a sort of short CV of your life."

"I’m thirty-eight years old. Worked as a secretary for the local electricity company for ten years. I lived with my parents all the time. Gave up the secretary’s job when my mother fell ill. When she died, I had to look after father in the way he expected. Took a variety of temporary and part time jobs and was made redundant from the last about two months ago. All my money went into the family account. A fortnight ago I came home from a day of job hunting to find what little stuff I had in bin bags along the side of the house. The door was locked. Another woman, Jill, his girlfriend had moved in two months ago and I guess he felt he needed me less. I’d had to submit to punishments from both of them. I banged and banged on the door. Father let me in and when I protested about my treatment he caned me while the woman held me and then threw me out. I found a B&B but only had enough money in my purse to stay for two nights. I kept trying for a job but it is surprisingly difficult when you don’t have a proper address. I had no choice but to learn to sleep rough. It’s not the best time of year to do that."

"No friends you could have stayed with?"

"My life was foolishly centred around my father." For a while they sat in silence. Margaret trying to keep her breasts covered with foam, Jeremy watching her. Each time she reached for the mug, her breasts rose above the water and under his stare she could feel her nipples involuntarily harden. Looking at him sitting fully dressed on the toilet seat while she was a naked as the day she was born, Margaret wondered again why he had brought her here. Would he want to fuck her? Not that it would be any hardship if he did. From her position in the bath it was difficult to see but she thought his trousers bulged more than normal at the front. Would he want to do other things? Like her father? Or worse? Margaret’s mind confused by the sudden change in her life and the luxury of the warm water after so many nights in the freezing cold, couldn’t decide if she liked the man or not or even if it mattered.

"What about the other welts on your body? Some are quite old" The question again startled her.

"Father said I needed disciplining whenever I did something he didn’t agree with and when I...." Margaret left the sentence unfinished. It was none of his business really. She closed her eyes and relaxed in the warm water. Her mind ran through all sorts of scenarios. Jeremy waited for her to continue. Opening her eyes again, instead of continuing she asked, "Sir? Colonel?" Margaret hesitated and then thought why the hell. Two can play at these games. "What is your personal CV Sir?" To her surprise he answered.

"Good question. If you decide to stay, you will need to know." Margaret wondered what motive would lie behind the invitation to stay but kept quiet. Jeremy went on, "Spent thirty-six years in the army. Mostly in the Black Watch. Enlisted at sixteen. Saw service in India then a quietish few years and into the Gulf war and Kosavo. Saw plenty of people far worse off then you. I was last stationed at the America airforce base at Lakenheath as a liaison officer. Remembered I had an aunt that lived in this house and came to see her regularly. She was a sprightly old lady and lived alone in this big old place. She only used three or four rooms, the kitchen, bathroom and her bedroom. Another room she seemed to keep as a workroom for her sewing and stuff but towards the end she didn’t do much of that. The others were never touched in the six years or so I came here to visit. I retired about six months ago and rented a couple of rooms in town here so I could keep an eye on her and did a few repairs and alterations to the rooms she used to make them more comfortable and easier to use. Developers kept trying to get hold of the place but she was adamant she wasn’t going to sell, despite the place was far too large and dilapidated. A month ago she died at the age of ninety-four leaving the house to me. She also left me an annuity to restore the place and possibly again turn it into a refuge for poor and destitute women. I wouldn’t mind doing that but as I told the bus driver, the regulations are far too onerous so most probably I’ll convert it into flats. However, with the sex discrimination act I doubt whether I can make them available just to women. I’ve only lived here full time for a week and part time for the week previously so I haven’t done more than clean up the rooms she used and started to clear one other bedroom." The Colonel paused in his tale, stood and abruptly returned to his officer bearing. "Time for you to get out of the water and dry yourself, young lady." Opening a cupboard door her pulled out a dressing gown. "When you’re dry put this on. It’s one of mine but you are not too much smaller than I am so it should fit well enough. Auntie’s stuff will be much too small. She was a tiny woman."

"Do you have to watch me all the time?" Margaret complained. "Is this why you want to start a women’s refuge? To get your rocks off looking at the women in here? Then forcing them to go further? That doesn’t sound much like a refuge. Is that what you are going to do to me? Are you just another pervert! I guess that’s why you picked me up."

"I am an officer and a gentleman madam! You will not impugn my name in that way without paying the price." Without further warning, the Colonel sat again on the toilet seat, pulled Margaret across his lap and commenced spanking her naked arse with all the force his hand could muster. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack! The blows rained steadily on her bum. Screaming and swearing, Margaret struggled to free herself but to no avail. He was far too strong for her. Soon she changed from swearing to pleading with him to stop but it wasn’t until her arse was very sore and deep red in colour that he did so. "Apologise!"

"I’m sorry Sir. I shouldn’t have said that."

"Remember, that spanking if you decide to stay here. I will not tolerate insubordination or rebellious words and actions by those under me. It looks as if you should be able understand that from what I can see of your body."

"Sorry Sir," Margaret repeated, thinking she had better humour him and blushing because she knew he’d noted the welts on her arse and elsewhere.

"I’m a fair man, but a strict one. Of course I liked watching you. It is some time since I have had the pleasure of a woman but I gave you my word I wouldn’t fuck you tonight and if you decide to leave in the morning, that will be the end of it. That is the word of an officer and a gentleman. It will not be broken. Stop snivelling, put the dressing gown on and come to the kitchen and help prepare something to eat."

Chapter 2. The job

Jeremy lay in his bed gently massaging his hard on and wondered about the woman in the next room. She was quite a find. "Yes, quite a find. Not that I expected a woman like that when I invited her here. I expected a really old hag. It was really only my better nature that asked her to stay. Had to do something to spite that fat shopkeeper. I couldn’t see her spend the night in the open in that filthy weather either. If she’ll stay she may be better than getting someone from the Job Centre. No youngster but not bad looking and definitely experienced in taking punishment." He rubbed his cock harder. "I wonder what her typing skills are like? Perhaps her fingers will be better employed around my cock but if she can type then maybe I can get this damned journal translated."

The journal he referred to, was an old leather bound book started in 1831 by one Josiah Winsberly. "Damn that man," Jeremy mused, "Why did he have to write it in code? Did he think he was Samuel Pepys? Bad enough the writing is faded." However, he already knew the answer to that question, if the contents had been read while he was still alive he would almost certainly have been imprisoned or even hanged. So far he had only cracked the code and started on the first few pages but it was laborious to do it by hand. It was only a simple transposition of characters where A had become N and B transferred to O etc. It had taken him longer to crack than it should have because Josiah had added the numbers 0 to 9, the ampersand and the word ‘the’ written as /, as characters at the end of the alphabet. It was made a little more difficult as it was not always easy to distinguish between the numeral 0 and a capital letter O. Jeremy wondered at the education of the man and why he didn’t rise to a position higher than warden at a workhouse. "I guess there were other compensations," Jeremy mused, "Maybe I’ll find out when I get the this book translated. Jack Shearer said he could write me a computer programme for it once he had the code."

Margaret lay awake for only a short time. Not having slept properly for a week or more and being in a warm soft bed with a full belly, exhaustion overcame her and she slept through to near daybreak. Pulling the loaned robe around her she quietly went to the bathroom and peed. For while she sat on the loo thinking of the man and what he might do to or with her. He seemed straight enough but he had spanked her and she could still feel the effects as she sat on the seat. Returning to the bedroom she debated whether or not to get up and get away from this somewhat gloomy house but the wind driven rain on the window quickly quashed that idea. The bedroom might be a little chilly but under the covers on, lying on a mattress she was snug and warm. "He said he would give me the choice of staying or leaving in the morning. I’ll wait until then and hear what he says," she told herself.

*****

"My proposition is this, Margaret." They had finished breakfast. Margaret, now dressed in her own clean clothes, sat in the old wooden Windsor chair by the stove. There was no cushion so she moved around a little to make herself as comfortable as she could with a tender behind. "I’ve had much worse," she told herself as she waited for Colonel Jeremy to begin. Rain still beat against the glass of the windows. Since her spanking the Colonel had kept his word and behaved as a perfect gentleman. True to his word, she’d had a room to herself for the night. It may not have been luxurious. Just an iron frame bed, but the mattress was clean and he had provided fresh sheets and blankets. Margaret, for her part, tried to put her fear of him aside and behave as if the situation was a normal one.

"I need someone to help clean this place up. Two local women have already been to look at the job and turned it down as being far too big for the wages I sort to pay. A cleaning firm quoted an astronomical price to make a start on the downstairs rooms. If you are prepared to help with the work, I will provide board and lodging and we can negotiate wages at around minimum rate."

"Sir, it is not the work I am afraid of and it would be nice to have a roof over my head at nights but after last night, I am fearful you might punish me more and more. I have had enough of that sort of life. Living here alone with you, I fear also that you will want to do more than look at me."

"You are of course right in that respect. Last night I gave you my word I wouldn’t attempt to fuck you and you would be free to go in the morning. You can go immediately if you wish. However, if you stay, yes, I will expect to have sex you. You are an attractive woman and living alone with you, I know I would find the temptation to bed you, rather overwhelming. So you must take that into consideration when you make your decision." Margaret nodded. "From the stripes on your body, I doubt if my punishment last night was very significant." Margaret again nodded affirmatively. "Do you know what it is like to sleep with a man? Or have you kept yourself all these years for Mr. Right?" Margaret hung her head, blushing furiously. Puzzled the Colonel but he went on, "Yes I do get very horny and would make demands on your body but it would never be rape. If you stoutly refuse me, then you will have your way but I guess your stay here will be short. To be blunt and brutally honest, I will expect you to agree to share my bed for at least a semi permanent job. As to any punishments, they would be commensurate with the crime. Attacks on my character will, like last night, always demand retribution. Other faults such as laziness, would be dealt with on the severity of the offence. I may also wish to spank you to warm you up ready for sex. That was something I learned in the India where I was provided with a young woman for my enjoyment but it was only after her arse was well warmed, that she responded with great alacrity in bed. Since then I have found many other women respond in that way. Most punishments would be a hand spanking but I do have a variety of straps and canes for the more serious offences."

"So you actually want a whore housekeeper? Bet you didn’t put that in your advert for a house cleaner."

The Colonel looked at her sharply and then noticed the smile on her face. "No, I didn’t use those exact words." He too smiled and then turned more serious. "You said last night, you had worked as a secretary. Does that mean you can type?"

"Yes Sir, but I’m a bit rusty now and I haven’t had anything much to do with computers except on a couple of my temporary jobs. I had an electric typewriter at home but lately didn’t get to use it much."

"You may have to brush up on those skills as well if you stay. I need someone who ideally is, in the parlance of today, multi-skilled. Someone who is prepared to muck in with whatever needs doing. In this old place it could be anything from changing a light bulb to cooking to cleaning to .."

"Lying on a bed with legs wide open?" interrupted Margaret.

"That would be a bonus," smiled Jeremy. "No need for a rush decision though. My car is due to be returned at noon. You have until then to make up your mind. Wander around the house and grounds if the weather allows. See what you might be expected to do. See the extent of the cleaning. If we do it all, it will be a mammoth task but I guess the further rooms will be left until I decide if and how the place will be converted. For now I want to get the living spaces clean and modernised without looking modern and a few spare rooms for guests if any come here. Feel free to look anywhere except in my study where I will be working. I’ll make coffee at ten-thirty and you can ask questions then. If you decide to leave, you can either walk out of the door or I will drive you to town. At least you will have a full belly and clean clothes. If you decide to stay, I will still take you to town for a check up at the clinic, and to get whatever else you would need to stay here. I’ll leave you alone for the time being to think about what I have said."

Had Colonel Saunders-Smythe been a religious man he would have prayed she would decide to stay but he’d given his word that she was free to go and would hold himself to it however much his fantasy mind wanted her captive, chained and ready for him to whip and rape. Margaret might no longer be young but she still had some fire in her. With the right persuasion she might be able to satisfy his desire not just for sex, but his love of tenderising a woman and warming her body with a cane or strap before taking her unmercifully.

*****

Margaret sat in the passenger seat of the Mitsubishi 4x4 and peered through the windscreen at the puddles that still littered the road and glinted in the headlights. The rain had ceased for the time being but it could start again at any moment. She wondered if she had made the right decision by accepting the position of ‘whore housekeeper’. It was not the decision she wanted to make but the other option was far worse. How long would she live outside in this weather? She was no stranger to sex, even forced sex but how much force would be use? He’d said be wouldn’t rape her, she could refuse him but her time in the warm and dry would be limited. With winter fast approaching she would have to acquiesce. Would the man who seemed to have experienced sex in various countries make her do things that might be abhorrent to her? Would he thrash her often? They had agreed on a fortnight’s trial, with each having the option to terminate the agreement at that time. In her mind she looked at it as a fourteen-day prison sentence but would that be any worse than the life she had led till now? Perhaps if she stayed a month at the end she would have a reference and enough money to pay her lodging.

At the clinic her tests revealed a clean bill of health, as she knew it would and they gave her a prescription for contraceptive pills. She had been taking them all the time she was with her father and she didn’t want to start a family now, certainly not with this strange military man. They had done the rounds of the charity shops and bought a few clothes that fitted her and on to a work outfitters where they obtained overalls and other necessary clothing for cleaning in a dirty environment. Now they were nearly back ‘home’; the workhouse that was to be her home for at least a fortnight. A huge monstrosity of a house, three storeys high but solidly built of red brick with a slate roof. So far she hadn’t seen but a fraction of it and only glimpsed its real size when she left in the car. Now again they were arriving back to the gloomy tomb in the dark.

They cooked a meal, washed up and then sat in front of a coal and wood fire supping a glass of wine. To Margaret this all seemed too good to be true. He’d not made any advances to her and treated her like a lady when they were in town. She chose the clothes she wanted for outside the house, but he had made it clear at the outset, the cost would come out of her wage packet although not in one lump sum. It was because of this that she’d spent so much time in the charity shops. He bought and paid for her work clothes and she guessed she would be wearing them most of the time. They had visited a small computer shop and there was the rather odd conversation about ciphers and him ordering an old computer with the codes set up. What was that all about? Questions kept coming to her mind. Would he allow her out on her own? Would she get time off? How much say would she get in the running of things? How often would she have to submit to him? Would she be punished? How badly? How severe would the warming before sex be?... As they sat comfortably in front of the fire she decided now perhaps was the time to ask.

"Colonel? Jeremy? What is my position here really going to be? Whore? Housekeeper? Slave worker? General dog’s body? Secretary? Or what? Sitting here like a woman of leisure, I’m confused."

"I can rule out some of those. You won’t be a whore because as I understand it a whore has sex with anyone. I shall keep you to myself. Slave worker? No. I shall expect a good day's work done but you won’t be worked from early morning to late at night but the hours will have to be flexible. As we agreed I will pay you by the week and not by the hour so there won't be a set starting or finishing time. General dog’s body? In some ways yes. I shall expect you to try and tackle whatever tasks come along that are within your capabilities. Housekeeper obviously but perhaps the best description for you will be unmarried wife. We’ll do things like a married couple except it may be more like a Victorian couple where the man was the master. Has that made it any clearer for you?"

Margaret nodded and muttered that it seemed not much different to her life at home. Tears came to her eyes. Jeremy noticed this and said, "Perhaps, perhaps not." For a while he sat and stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable. "Take off you clothes Margaret." It was an order. An order from an officer, "I want to have a good look at you."

"This is it," she thought. "Might as well get it over with." Starting to peel off her clothes she asked, "Jeremy, wouldn’t you like to put some music on and make me do a strip tease dance?"

"Not this time. Just get them off." It wasn’t long before Margaret stood naked before him, half hiding her breasts and pubic area with her arms. "Put your hands behind your neck. I said I wanted a good look at you woman." From the tone of his voice Margaret knew he was in military mode and hastened to obey. "Come closer." As soon as she was close enough, Jeremy started fondling her breasts and then thrust his hand between her legs. It took only a short massage before Margaret’s juices were flowing.

"At least he’s waited until I am wet," she thought, "That’s more than father ever did." Shortly afterward she found herself leaning over the arm of the settee while Jeremy’s cock thrust into her, doggie style. Although he did his best to give Margaret some satisfaction by playing with her clit as he fucked, he climaxed and shed his seed in her before her orgasm. "That’s nothing new," Margaret said to herself but was surprised and pleased when her partner never left her in this unsatisfied state but continued to masturbate her until she came as well. "Thank you Sir," she muttered when they parted and once again sat side by side. "Do you wish me to clean you Sir?"

"That would be nice, Margaret." The Colonel had reverted to what Margaret now called his civilian mode, "That is if you don’t mind." She didn’t. It was a task she had performed almost daily for many years. Kneeling between his legs she opened his flies as wide as possible and sucked on his soft, sticky member until it was clean.

"Thank you Margaret. I think I ought to perform the same service on you now." The statement shook her. Only once, when she was very young had her father done this. The surprise must have shown in her face because the Colonel went on, "You’re not used to that?" Margaret shook her head. "Well we’ll just have to see how you like it. Where I was in India, sex was almost part of their religion and it was considered a duty to make sure both partners were well and truly satisfied. I learned a lot from the woman they gave me as a temporary wife."

"Is that what you want me to be? Just temporary?" For a few moments Jeremy thought he had offended her but then saw her smile.

"Just change places with me and we’ll worry about job descriptions later," Jeremy smiled too as he laved her cunt and sucked her clit.

Chapter 3. Father’s abuse

"Margaret? I know you gave me the short version of your CV yesterday, but you left a great deal out, didn’t you?" Margaret barely nodded, she guessed what was coming. The pair lay cuddled together in his bed, fondling each other like a pair of lovebirds. He played with her breasts and pubic area because he wanted to, she played with him in the hope it would keep him happy and not beat her. "You are obviously very experienced sexually and from what you have told me so far, I guess it was with your father." Again the nod. There was a long pause before Jeremy prodded, "Tell me." Margaret slowly shook her head and she started to cry. "Tell me Margaret," Jeremy urged, "I would guess it is something you have wanted to get off your chest for a long while. I give you my word, I will not repeat what you say to anyone." For some minutes there was silence.

"I don’t know where to begin," Margaret eventually stalled.

"At the beginning perhaps. Like when did he start to abuse you sexually."

"You know he could go to prison if this ever gets out? Even after all he’s done to me, he is still my father and I don’t want that to happen."

"Margaret, I gave you my word. I will not speak to anyone about it. It is patently clear you have been through a trauma, many traumas and maybe getting them off your chest will help you. I’m not a counsellor but I can and will listen. I have seen and investigated things, horrible things, done to women and children that would probably make you sick to hear so don’t be afraid to tell me anything. From my experience, talking does help." The Colonels mind recalled his time in Kosavo. Time he spent investigating the rape of Moslem women, child prostitution and murder. Margaret’s life might not have been easy, but it was surely less traumatic than theirs. "So did the abuse start early in your life?"

"Quite early I suppose when I look back. Mother always seemed poorly and then when her liver failed she wasn’t able to do much. Father always spent more time looking after me than she did. He was also the one who punished me. As far back as I can remember it was always on the bare bottom, most often at bedtime when I had nothing else on. He always maintained that nightdresses and pyjamas just made more washing for him. Later I realised there were other reasons. Mother only wore a nightdress when the nurse was due to visit and father always slept in the nude. When I was due for punishment, which seemed more and more often as I grew up, he would come into my bedroom wearing only his underwear and sit on the bed. I would be ordered over his lap and he would position my bottom and splay my legs so he could see everything and then spank me. I would wiggle and squirm and later knew what that did to him and why he was often wet in the crotch when he finished. Often he would come back later and put cream on. Again it was some years before I realised why he did it although even when I was quite young I found it quite pleasant especially after the soreness had gone down a bit."

"Did your mother not know what was going on?" enquired Jeremy.

"I guess she did but chose to ignore it. She was in the same boat in a way. He used to cane her when she displeased him although later when her illness progressed and the nurses came to visit every other day, he had to be much more careful and eventually had to stop altogether. Several times I had to watch while she was caned. He bent her over the end of the bed and gave her bottom a dozen hard strokes after which I was sent from the room. Once I peeped through the keyhole to see if he put cream on her. All I saw was his bottom going back and forth behind her. It was some time later I learned what they were doing."

"When did he start caning you?"

"That was some years later. First came the leather belt but soon after he bought an old razor strop at a car boot sale and shortened it. It really hurt but the marks faded quite quickly if he didn’t catch me with an edge. I must have been about fourteen when he first used the razor strop on me. I wasn’t undressed and ready for him when he came in to spank me. I said I was too old to undress in front on him. My breasts were budding and I had a little hair growth between my legs and I had started my periods. When he left the room for a few moments I thought he had agreed but then he returned with the strop and just said, "Strip off." He had stripped off himself and came towards me with his cock erect. I had a pretty good idea of what would happen to me then. Prior to this after my spanking, he spent a long while applying the cream and rubbing it between my legs where there was no pain. I didn’t complain after the first time. That resulted in another spanking, the second being between my thighs. The last twice he’d made no pretence about the fact he was sexually playing with me. I was made to lay with my legs wide open and his fingers went right inside me. This time I knew it would be more than his finger inside. "Strip off," he repeated. I looked to see if there was any escape but he was between the door and me. I undressed but when I tried to hide my breasts and genitals he swung the strop and caught me across the stomach. I screamed but he only laughed and said, "You know what I am going to do, don’t you?" It was quite obvious as he had his cock in his hand and was pointing it at me. "Put your hands on your head. I want a proper look at you. All of you. Everywhere."

"By then I knew what sex was although I was still a virgin. One of my girl friends had an older boyfriend and they used to fuck in the long grass at the back of the school playing field at lunchtime. They took me along to keep watch in case a teacher came by. I cried out, "Mother, father’s going to rape me!" The strop struck my hip. Again I screamed.

Father only laughed. "If your mother comes in, it will only be to watch." The strop landed on my other hip. "How many more strokes of this before you do as you are told Margaret?" he asked. I put my hands on my head. His hands immediately went to my breasts and then between my legs and stayed there for some time fondling and playing with me. Before long he ordered me to bend over the end of the bed. "You’ve seen how your mother takes it so seeing as I am going to be treating you like an adult now, I shall punish you like one." For a few moments he left the room and returned with a long rope that passed under the bed. I knew what to expect. Each wrist was tied to the rope so my arms were spread across the bed. I was sobbing now, knowing this would be a real hard thrashing especially as this was the Easter holiday period and I wouldn’t have to go to school for two weeks and any marks would fade by then.

I was made to spread my legs as wide as possible. "I want your cunnie and arsehole winking at me." I remember him saying. Then the first stroke landed with a terrific WHACK!! I bucked and screamed and pleaded for him to stop but I knew he wouldn’t. I screamed for mother to help but she was sick and didn’t leave her room. "Perhaps you won’t feel so tetchy about taking your clothes off for me next time," he laughed again as though it was a big joke and laid another WHACK! across my bum. Ten more times he hit me with that strop before he finally put it down. I thought the pain incredible but that was certainly not the last time he treated me that way.

I just lay bent over and face down on the bed. Moments later I felt his prick at my entrance. It seemed too large but he forced it in. There was a stab of extra pain as he broke my maidenhead and then proceeded to rape me with considerable force. He was still laughing and joking that I would be getting a very different cream this time. From somewhere I had the presence of mind to yell to him not to make me pregnant and it must have got through because he pulled out and sprayed his cum over my arse. It was this cream he rubbed into my battered bottom.

I prayed it was now all over but it was not to be. Standing by my head, I was ordered to suck his cock clean. It looked revolting, all sticky and covered with my blood and juices and his cum but I didn’t dare not to put it in my mouth.

My humiliation still wasn’t over. After I was released he took me to his bedroom and showed my raw bum to my mother. She was very frail at this time but still looked shocked but he took her hand and made her feel the heat and pointed out the stickiness of the film covering it and the blood dribbling down my thighs. "Emily," he went on, "You’re not much use now to service a man, so I’m taking Margaret as a replacement. She’ll service me like you used to when you were in your prime. And I’ll keep her nice and tender like I did you for the first few years. Do you remember dear? Whenever the marks on your arse or thighs or tits faded, I’d replace them. She hasn’t too much in the tit department yet, but I guess after a few more fucks they will start to grow."

The next day I was taken to the family planning clinic and put on the pill. I had to tell them a boy at school wanted to have sex with me and I wanted to be prepared. After the pills took effect, I slept with in father’s bed every night and I became his wife in all but name. He fucked me alongside my mother. She tried to look away but he made her watch and sometimes she had to lick us afterwards. When I left school and there was less danger of anyone seeing the results of his beatings he did carry out his promise to keep my flesh tender all the time. By then he was into using the cane because he liked the stripy effect." Margaret was crying on Jeremy’s shoulder now and he didn’t want to push her further but did ask why she didn’t just up and leave.

"Partly loyalty I suppose. At first it was fear of him going to prison and my being put into care. After a while I didn’t mind the sex especially when I learned to control him a little and got satisfaction from it. I even didn’t mind some of the more gentle spankings but I did hate the thrashings and did what I could to avoid them. Later mother did make me promise on her death bed to look after him."

"Margaret, perhaps it will be better if we leave the remainder of your story till another time. I can see you’re upset from telling it."

"And I can feel it has made you horny," smiled Margaret, cheering up a little.

Chapter 4. Interview at the manor

Margaret stared at the old hand-written book with its unintelligible entries. Unintelligible that is until typed into this computer programme. Already from bits and pieces they had decoded to test the programme, she had an inkling as to what the journal contained; the sexual abuse of the women who came here for shelter by the man who was supposed to protect them. In many ways their life mirrored her own.

Sitting at the keyboard, Margaret mused that life for her during the three weeks she had lived in this gaunt old house had been very different to living with her father. Jeremy was a gentleman, strict but fair. She’d had a second hard spanking a week ago, one she had almost provoked, and had on a number of occasions gently warmed her breasts and pubic area before having sex with her but apart from that he had been kind to her. Like her father, Jeremy was sexually very active and liked to try a variety of ways and often several times a day. He also subscribed to an adult book club and made her read some of the juicier passages to him.

"Have you made a start yet?" Jeremy called as he passed the door. Nervously her fingers began to type.

The Secret Journal of Josiah Winsberly, Master of the Workhouse at Pennydelset, started March 21st 1831.

To anyone who finds this journal after I have gone and is able to unravel the ciphers I used, I trust you will find the account of my life and pleasures with the ladies at this workhouse in Pennydelset, most titillating. Had I thought of the coding earlier I could have written down my experiences at my former employment but they are now only past memories and it would take far too long to cipher them. Be assured, this is a truthful account of my exploits. An account that I dare not write in plain language for fear of it falling into the wrong hands and my being prosecuted and sent to prison or worse.

It is not my intention to write a day by day account in the form of a diary. I should have started some months ago had that been the case. Rather I intend to give accounts of incidents that occurred even if they happened over a period of some days.

For the record, I was appointed to this post at Michaelmas last year through the good offices of Squire Pemberton who knew of my work with the ladies refuge in Wyndmondham in Norfolk. He has a perchance for seeing women of all ages but particularly the younger ones, punished on the bare flesh with the birch or cane and then their bodies used as they should be, to satisfy men’s lustful desires.

Squire Pemberton visited me at the Norfolk refuge several times and I was able to arrange for him to witness a number of punishments and he particularly liked the way I humiliated them by making them undress completely for even a simple caning. Of course, while they were still strapped down after the caning, I allowed him to relieve himself inside any lady he fancied before I did so myself. He also praised me for having a young girl at hand during the punishment to suck our cocks clean. A freshly thrashed and sobbing woman doesn’t usually do a good job in that respect.

At my interview at Grange Manor, the squire’s home, for this position I gained a further insight into his likings and found them so very similar to my own. A young maid brought us some ale and upset the jug. She immediately became very fearful and pleaded forgiveness. Squire ignored them and simply said quietly to the trembling girl, "Mop up this mess Victoria and then take yourself to the punishment room and have Higgins make yourself ready for us."

We sat and talked for an hour or so about the position at the workhouse and my thoughts on keeping the ladies under control and what part he, as benefactor, would play. It quickly became clear he wished to see the ladies disciplined and we agreed that a Saturday evening would be the main punishment time although I would be free to punish any one at the time of the offence if I deemed it necessary. For minor infringements I would just put a cross by the lady’s name on a blackboard and these would be totalled and the appropriate punishment given on the Saturday when the squire would be present to aid me. To help keep the workhouse funds in good stead, he would bring friends to view the punishments and partake of the girls' charms for a fee.

Having finalised this the squire suggested we might adjourn to the punishment room and deal with Victoria. I found the girl lying on a peculiar piece of apparatus. It was akin to a carpenter’s sawhorse in that it had stout splayed legs at each end a little over two feet high. Connecting them was a spar about five feet long and six inches in diameter. The sides were hewn away to make it a triangular shape with the top of the rounded apex only a little over an inch wide. Along its length lay Victoria. Someone, I later learned it was Higgins the butler, had fastened her wrists tightly downwards to the front legs and her ankles to the rear. The bar parted her breasts and the crack between her legs. Victoria had been lying on it for some time when we arrived and was finding it most uncomfortable.

Squire invited me to inspect the girl, which I did. She had nice full tits that bore faint marks from a previous encounter with a birch rod, as did her arse. "Birch or cane," Squire asked. I opted for the birch. He gave me one and took another for himself. "You first," he suggested. I stood to one side and lay a stroke smartly across her bum. He laid on one from his side. So we proceeded to birch the flesh in front of us until it was fully covered with welts and Victoria was screaming for mercy at the top of her voice. "Isn’t that sweet music, Winsberly?" Squire asked, "I like to let them squeal a bit so the rest of the staff know I haven’t been soft on her." I agreed wholeheartedly.

"Which hole would you like?" I chose her arsehole and forced my cock in, which caused more squealing, and then rode her until I climaxed. Squire then released her ankles, lifted her slightly and rode her cunnie. While he was doing this another young maid came forward and shyly sucked me clean. I was most gratified he had seen fit to implement a suggestion I had made to him earlier in the year.

We left Victoria there for Higgins, to deal with. I am sure he and some of the other male staff poked her as well.

I was well pleased when I was appointed to the post, knowing I would have the squire’s backing for whatever treatment I gave the ladies in my care. However, I could not leave my position at Wyndmondham until Christmas and took my place here on January 1st 1831.

Margaret paused her typing and scrolled to the top of the screen so Jeremy could read it. "I think my father would have been quite a home here in those times," she remarked. "I’m sure he’d have liked to have lots of women stretched out on devices like that bar."

"Most of them are still here you know. They are in a locked room on the end of the cellar. I guess that was the punishment room for this house." If you want to get into the mood of the tale, we can always clean them off." Jeremy gave a little laugh, "I wouldn’t mind having you helpless on that bar."

"And what would you do with me then you naughty man?" Margaret laughed too as she put her hand on the bulge at his crotch.

"Birch you and rape you perhaps."

"I’ve never been birched." Margaret paused for a while staring almost blankly at the screen. "Jeremy? This may sound odd but sometimes I miss not being beaten before sex. I mean, I don’t want an out and out thrashing so I can’t move for days, but a gentle warming now and again would spice things up a bit. I suppose I just got used to it with father."

"Then I’m the one to do it. You’re not the first girl I’ve had that needed a good warming before a fucking. Although you are the first white girl."

"Can I trust you not to go too far?"

"No. You have to take that chance. That adds to the excitement. Once I have you helpless I could thrash you unmercifully. Or I could just give you a nice warming." Jeremy lifted Margaret’s skirt and felt her unclothed cunt. It was wet. "Well this seems to have turned you on too. Bend over that chair." She did and Jeremy gave her arse a dozen smart smacks, enough to put a rosy glow to her bum cheeks before thrusting his cock in and taking her fast and furiously.

Afterwards, as they sat side by side he asked her again about her feelings when she read the account. "When I’m typing, I only see the coded letters but when I read the story I get horny and sad too. I had feelings and sympathy for Victoria but I also became excited sexually by what they did to her. It’s a peculiar dichotomy that I don’t understand."

"I think we should explore it some more Margaret. Tomorrow, we’ll unlock the punishment room and get some lights in there. There’s no electricity in that room even. Then we’ll get it cleaned up a bit and you can see what you might be letting yourself in for."

Chapter 5. Indian experience

"Jeremy?" They lay in bed cuddled in each other’s arms, "This morning you said I wasn’t the only girl you’d had that wanted to feel pain before sex. Was she really like me? Were there others? Would you tell me about her or them please?"

"Of course dear, but it was quite a while ago and she wasn’t a white girl. It was when I was out in India after they had gained independence. A few of us stayed out there as liaison personnel. I had my own house and I had hardly got myself settled when two women came in. One could speak english and spoke for the other woman. "I am Irma. Do you wish to have a servant?" she asked, "This woman has a young daughter that would serve you well and keep the place clean and will take care of your personal needs." I knew from the way she said it, she meant my sexual needs. I knew people in that area followed a form of Buddhism and many were sexually promiscuous from an early age. "She speaks english and will work hard," the woman went on.

"How old is she?" I asked not wanted a half-grown child.

"Sixteen, and very nice looking Sir. Only cost you two english pounds a week." From what I had already found out from living in other parts of India, it was always necessary to bargain. Although I could easily afford the two pounds I knew I'd better haggle to reduce the cost. It would help my reputation. I knew that the whole family would live well on two pounds for nearly a month.

"I’ll consider her. Please bring her to me so I can see for myself what she is like." The girl must have been waiting just outside for they brought her in very quickly. Even if they had exaggerated her age, she was small but had breasts that were quite well on the way to being fully developed.

"This is Meena, Sheelan’s daughter."

"Yes, she is very nice looking but is she able to work and cook and clean? She looks a bit too young to have had much experience." I started my bargaining ploy. After further discussion with the english speaking woman, I asked the girl directly if she was willing to work hard. She just nodded but did not answer. "Did you understand what I said?" I asked and she then spoke one word in reply, "Yes." I wondered if it was just shyness in front of her mother and the other woman so I let it go. In the end I got the girl for a pound a week.

However, by the end of the first week, I found the girl to be lazy and she hadn’t responded to any of my overtures so I hadn’t had sex with her. She slept in her own room and got up when she was ready. The meals she cooked were pretty abysmal too. Not wanting to cause any friction between myself as a white man and the natives, I didn’t do what I might have done in other circumstances, namely to give her a good hiding and then have my way with her. I resolved to see the mother and return the girl. As soon as I tried to explain to the mother, she took me away to Irma, the interpreter woman and through her I explained the position. The mother became angry and said I was a fool in not taking her daughter in hand and showing her who was boss. "No men here let their wives lead them around. She just thinks you are a weakling because you tried to be nice to her. I’ll show you what to do." Saying this she went to a drawer, and utterly surprised me by taking out a machete. I was about to protest when she marched into the forest. Moments later she was back with a fresh rattan cane. The three of us walked to my house. Meena was lying on her bed, dressed but dozing. She didn’t doze for long. Sheelan brought the rattan down across her hips and uttered a long string of what seemed to be invective in her own language. Encouraged by another stroke of the cane, Meena undressed then crying and talking in her own tongue, lay face down. Irma held her down by the shoulders and relayed Sheelan’s instructions.

"If you cannot hold her down, tie her to the bed or a solid piece of furniture. Make sure the part you want to hit is bare and you can safely hit hard here and here." The mother indicated the back of the thighs to the base of the spine and the shoulder areas. Irma turned the girl over for the mother to mark off an area from just above the knees to her stomach and then her breasts but I was told it was not good to hit so hard there and again between her thighs. For a youngster she seemed to have a fair amount of pubic hair and I wondered how old she really was. By now, Meena was again face down and Sheelan stood to one side. Without any warning she brought the supple green rattan down hard across her daughter’s arse. She used more force than I would have done. Meena screamed and bucked but Irma held her firm. Five more times she cracked the cane across that young arse. Even on the dark skin the welts showed up fiery and angry. Sheelan handed me the rattan and Irma translated that I was to give the girl the same again. I thought she’d already been punished enough but I had already been called a fool for being weak so I laid on my six, waiting after each one like my instructor had said, until Meena’s writhing had quietened down.

I had expected it to be all over then but no, Sheelan pointed to the bulge in my crotch, made a circle with the fingers of her left hand and poked the index finger of the right in and out. The meaning was clear. "You zig-zig." It was a word I knew. Both older women watched expectantly as I pulled out my cock. They seemed pleased when they saw it and gabbled for a few moments before Irma said, "You must do it to her now. Do it hard and then do it again as soon as you can. Do it often. She will respect you then."

"Please Sir, don’t. I hurt too much now" Tears were streaming down her face as she spoke the first sentence in english I had heard from her. Even if I had some pity for her plight, my cock didn’t. I rammed it in and was surprised to find her hymen intact. It wasn’t for long. I fucked her long and hard all the while watched by Meena’s mother and Irma until I shot my load and withdrew. Sheelan then took hold of my prick and, when Irma sat the girl up, guided it to her daughter’s mouth. There was more jabbering that I didn’t understand but I gathered they were giving instructions on how the girl should be sucking me.

Sheelan left soon after but not before presenting the rattan to Meena with instructions to ask me to use it on her whenever I felt it necessary. Irma remained behind. "Captain Sir," she started, "You have much to learn about the way of life here. We women are brought up to believe that a man does not love us or want us if he is not completely in control of our lives. If he cannot take the time to punish us when we are not doing our best or to warm our bottoms to make us more receptive before entering us, then he does not care for us like he should!

"I’m sorry, Irma. I didn’t realise. I wanted to avoid and international incident that I thought might have flared up if I had hurt Meena. Do you get punished as hard as she was?"

"Meena’s punishment was hard but not unusual. You have to remember that Sheelan would have been in disgrace with her family had you sent Meena back. There was also the money to consider. The wages you pay will keep the family well and Sheelan would not have wanted to lose that through her daughter’s negligence. She had to show you the right way to treat her daughter."

As Irma had been chatting away about personal things, I felt I could ask a personal question. "Does your husband punish you?"

"Of course, but it’s not often I actually get a punishment caning these days, although I did get a caning just the other day."

"Was it as severe as the one we gave Meena?" I asked.

"Perhaps it was as hard but I only took half the amount." Meena started to say something in her language but I told her to shut up and she did. Irma unwrapped her sari and showed me six stripes across her bum. I also noticed many other finer marks across both the back and front of her body, especially on her breasts but before I could ask Irma went on.

"I would have expected a dozen for what I did but my sister took half as she was partly to blame. Fatima and her husband were staying with us for a few days and had been out visiting. They came back just as I was cooking the evening meal. Fatima came bursting into the kitchen and started telling me about what they had done during the day. I was so engrossed with her tale, the meat for the curry started to burn. I tried to hide it with more spices but when it was served up, everyone knew. There was that faint taste of burnt meat. Jamel, my husband, was angry and ordered me to get the cane. I knew which one. A rattan about the same size as the one Sheelan cut for you except this one was well seasoned and oiled. As I returned with the cane I heard my sister speaking with her husband and he spoke with Jamel. They agreed to share the punishment between us two wives and Fatima had owned up to her part in the mishap. As the burnt meat had affected everyone, they were to all witness our disciplining. We removed our saris and I had to bend over the back of a chair and hold the front legs. My bottom was on view to all including my two sons and daughter. But it was not the first time they had seen me in this position. That was the least of my worries. I had to try and keep quiet while Jamel laid the cane across my backside. I just about managed it. Not like this young thing lying here." Irma pointed to Meena. "Then Fatima took my place and I had to watch as she received her six stripes. She has a bigger bottom than me so she may have felt the pain more as each stripe was that much longer. We had to sit and finish our meal with the others even though the woven cane bottom chairs dug painfully into our backsides."

I then got to ask about all the other stripes covering her body.

"Oh they are not punishment stripes, they are for warming me up ready for sex. At the foot of our bed is a small table on which is kept and richly decorated canvas roll containing an assortment of canes and straps. Each night before retiring, and at any other times he feels like it, I have to unroll it so the canes and straps are all laid out neatly, and then stand alongside it without any clothes on. The punishment cane is there too but Jamel never chooses it for foreplay. He selects which instrument he wishes to use, or sometimes he just prefers his hand, and then decides which part of me needs warming. As you can see, my breasts get it most often. He likes the way they move at each strike and he knows only to make the cane sting until they are both very tender. If he feels like taking me in the bottom, he has a little two-pronged strap, which he whips that hole with while I have to hold my bottom cheeks apart so he can hit the target properly. This also means he catches my cunt lips too, which both hurts and makes me, as you say, horny. With your much bigger cock than most men I have seen here, I doubt you will have to stimulate Meena in that way for a while."

"What about pregnancy?"

"No problem there. Our local doctor will give her a drink that induces an abortion within a few days. It is the main form of contraception here. Pump her as full of your sperm as you wish. We women like to feel our inside full of it."

"And there will be no problems if I treat Meena like Jamel does you?" I asked.

"There will be more problems if you don’t. She’s been reading too many english books where women have more rights than they should so you will have to punish all that nonsense out of her. She needs a strong hard man. In the morning, get her to take you to the market place to Mendles where you can buy a roll like I have for yourself. They are available in all sorts of sizes, some ready filled, others you buy what you think you need. Old Mendle will advise you but don’t pay the price he asks." Turning to Meena she added, "You know what a woman is supposed to have in that roll. Make sure he gets it all. I’ll come and check later and if you have tried to get away with anything, I’ll bring your mother over and you can guess what that will mean."

"She did. Meena through lots of tears, started saying she was sorry for her previous behaviour and she would do everything I wanted from now on. I had a feeling there were crocodile tears amongst the genuine ones but let it go. Irma left soon after admonishing me again to make sure I kept in full control of the girl. I fully intended to."

"Do you wish me to be like Irma? To have a roll of punishment canes by my bedside?" Margaret interrupted his tale.

"I still have the ones I bought in India. I’ll show you in the morning. But first let me finish telling you about Meena. You can ask questions at the end." Jeremy paused as though thinking about where he had got too.

"Meena was still on the bed where I had left her to see Irma out. Her sobbing had subsided somewhat and as I looked at her naked body my young cock began to harden again. I turned her over and felt the welts on her arse. They were well raised and she cried out when I pressed them but didn’t make any attempt to stop me. "Undress me," I ordered. Slowly and painfully she got to her feet and helped me take my clothes off. "On your back and spread those legs nice and wide." Again she subserviently did so. She cried out when my weight put pressure on her arse but in my lust I ignored that and pounded her until I came again. After she had sucked me clean I set her to work, doing the cleaning jobs she should have done the previous week. I worked in my office for a while checked on her at intervals. She worked as well as she was able considering her sore muscles. When bedtime came, I spanked the inside and front of her thighs.

Meena took me to the market the next day and I bought the punishment roll and Mendles helped me fill it with what he thought was necessary. Word had already gotten to him about Meena’s behaviour so I think he suggested the best disciplining tools he had. And it wasn’t just because they were more expensive and he knew I could well afford to pay for them. Meena didn’t seem keen on some of the items but that didn’t matter. I got to use them on her anyway and as Irma had said, these warming up canes were certainly very effective in getting the girl horny.

Meena stayed with me for the whole of my fourteen months tour of duty there and I was very sorry not to have been able to bring her back home with me but army regulations didn’t allow it. I did get to visit many families in the town and the surrounding country and on occasions witnessed wives and daughters being punished so Irma’s situation was by no means unique."

Margaret could feel Jeremy’s cock was hard again even though it wasn’t but half an hour ago they had fucked. "For an old man, you can get it up pretty well," she remarked, "Perhaps I shall have to get you telling your horny stories more often."

"I get even hornier when I have tenderised some tit flesh first," Jeremy laughed.

"Well I don’t need tenderising at the moment. I just need this inside me." She climbed on top of him, inserted his cock and bounced on it until they both climaxed and lay still.

Chapter 6. New master at the workhouse

Margaret sat at the computer again the following afternoon. She was a little tired from the morning’s exertions and Jeremy had given her the afternoon off but she wanted to find out more about Josiah Winsberly. The pair had spent the morning in the punishment room sweeping and vacuuming and looking over the apparatus there. Moving the items around was heavy, dusty work particularly as some of the frames were constructed of heavy timber and wedged in position. Dirt and decades of grime covered everything and repairs would be needed before the items could be used again, even if they wanted to use them. Some of their time was spent trying to guess what the items were actually used for. The 'A' framed stool was there so Josiah must have copied the one from the manor. After wiping away the worst of the grime, Margaret lay along it fully clothed in her overalls and quickly began to feel very uncomfortable. "Pity it’s so dirty," Jeremy remarked, "I would have liked to have seen how you fitted on it."

By midday they were filthy and exhausted and decided to call it quits for the day. They bathed together and then Jeremy had to go into town. Now as long as she had dinner ready at the proper time, Margaret was free to do what she liked. She sat and idly ran her fingers over the keys, adjusted the desk light before settling down to read the coded, faint lettering in the book.

‘I will start my account with the details of my arrival at Pennydelset and my first dealings with the workhouse occupants. Dealings that would prove exceedingly decisive for my subsequent mastery of them. Prior to my arrival, the old master, one John Allgrove, had died and having been in ill health for some time, the workhouse had become very run down. His assistant, Jack Crow, was still here. A good strong lad in his early thirties and a good worker, one who I have found will faithfully follow orders but is at a loss when put in charge. During his stewardship the women here took great liberties with him. For the last few months before I came, therefore, it was mainly the older women who ran things and who had become more and more lazy and recalcitrant to being given orders. The worst of these was a Miss Harrington, a spinster of sixty-five years with a sour disposition and a sharp tongue. Squire Pemberton had warned me about the way of things before I arrived but they were far worse than I had been led to expect.

Jack Crow and one of the girls met my carriage but the other inmates remained inside despite the fact the weather was dry and bright although exceedingly cold. Most sat around the fire in the kitchen and some didn’t even deign to stand when I entered. I stood them in line and rebuked them roundly for their behaviour. All told there were fourteen of them, of which only three were tolerably young and attractive. Another four or five were under forty and quite reasonable looking for their age, while the remainder were getting on in years with wrinkled skin and sagging breasts. After giving them a good tongue lashing which lasted about twenty minutes, I set them to work getting the place cleaned up. Inside I was seething at their attitude and resolved there would be some sore flesh before the end of the day. Before they slept that night they would learn who was in charge of this workhouse. I ordered everyone to be in the refectory at one for lunch.

"Alice," I called to the girl who had met my carriage, "You will accompany me and show me around the building." I was pleased she did a little curtsy and said "Yes, Sir."

However, hardly had the words left her lips when an older woman, a Mrs. Warboys interrupted me. "I am in charge of the house Sir. Not Alice."

"Are you indeed," I replied, "Then you will be one of those receiving the rod tonight for the appalling state of the place. Now get yourself to work woman."

The first room Alice showed my was my own. The fire was lit but barely drawing, there was dust and dirt everywhere and I doubted the sheets had been changed since my predecessor. "Who is supposed to look after this room?" I enquired of Alice.

"Mrs. Warboys Sir. She was very fond of old Mr. Allgrove and spent many of her nights here."

"How would you like to set this room to rights and keep in my good books by warming my bed at night Alice?" I supplemented the question by giving her bosom a rub.

"If that is what you wish Sir," she replied thrusting her chest out a little more and giving my hand access to the inside of her shift.

We continued the rounds of the workhouse and at one point found Miss Harrington sitting on a chair pretending to be dusting. When I challenged her, she sort to suggest that elderly ladies like her should be treated with respect and not be forced to do menial work. She even tried to suggest that I was already exceeding my role and would petition the vicar for my removal. Seeing the vicar played little part in my appointment, I almost laughed at her but just said, "We will see, Miss Harrington, we will see." I gave her no hint as to what I planned for her.

Cook was shocked when I sat at the head of the refectory table for lunch and ordered her to sit on my left hand side. She had expected me to eat in my room and to have hers in the kitchen with Jack and her assistant. The three of us and Jack would have better food than the rest. I may be a hard man as far as discipline goes but I do believe in giving good food to all the inmates. If the women were to be my playthings and paying amusements for my customers, they would need to have some flesh covering their ribs. I had already felt how thin Alice was. "Cook," I instructed, "Put all the food into the one pot and serve it from there to everyone." Her face nearly went blue. The thin gruel she served from that pot was tasteless water. "How long have you been cook? I asked.

"Three years Sir. I didn’t expect you to eat that stuff Sir. I made yours special."

"Is the allowance you have for food insufficient then Cook?"

"It is none too much Sir."

"But methinks you could do more with it, Cook." Cook looked down and I resolved to go over her accounts.

At the end of the poor meal, I stood and gave a little speech detailing what I expected of the women in future, the punishment system and the way the workhouse would be run. As was to be expected the punishment system caused most concern. It was of course Miss Harrington that chose to be most vociferous in her condemnation especially when I intimated that all punishments would be carried out with the recipient completely naked and they would be available afterwards for sexual pleasure. My speech ended with the statement, "Normally most punishments will be carried out on Saturday evenings in front of invited guests who will help to pay for some of the running costs of this place and the funds will help to provide you with better food and lodging conditions. However, because of the laxity and disrespectful behaviour of three members of this community, I will punish them here and now, unless they wish to leave immediately taking with them only those things they personally own and were not supplied by the workhouse." I knew of course, they would have come with almost nothing and clothing would have been given them from the workhouse store, a store that was donated by charities. "The three for punishment now are, Miss Harrington, Mrs. Warboys and Cook. Of course it was Miss Harrington that again, voiced her opinions and refused to remove her dress or allow herself to be punished, deeming herself too old for that sort of thing. For a few moments I left them and returned with my case of canes and a whip.

"Much as I prefer the birch, I doubt if there are any ready made and steeped here. Miss Harrington, are you going to undress and take the caning I intend to give you or will I have Jack hold you down while I whip your buttocks until you are ready to take your clothes off and then give you your caning. Either way you will receive your due." Still the woman protested, maybe thinking I would desist. "Jack, hold that woman down across the table." Noticing the gleam in his eye, I knew I would have a collaborator. He no doubt had suffered from the woman’s sharp tongue and in a trice she was firmly held. "Alice, lift the woman’s shift and remove any undergarments that obscure her buttocks. Alice trembled as she did so. I bade everyone to move where they could see the whip land and the resulting welts. I laid on three good strokes which brought forth a tremendous wailing from the woman. "Are you ready to undress?" I asked.

"You’re a perverted Satan!" she spat. I laid on another three and repeated my question. "No more," she cried, "You’ll kill me. An old woman can’t take any more." For the third time I asked if she was ready to undress. This time she nodded yes. We all watched as the shift came off and her wizened flesh and sagging breasts were revealed. I had Jack tie her hands to an overhead beam and picked up a cane. There was fear in her eyes now and amidst her crying and howling she pleaded with me not to cane her. She felt her punishment had already been given. I felt otherwise and laid four strokes of the cane across her back, four more across the back of her thighs, and a further four across the front.

At my instructions we left her there writhing for five minutes. Her modesty was gone. All she thought about was the pain. Until I told Jack he could take her. I had noticed the bulge in his breeches and on his opening them, revealed a rod of large proportions. From the unfazed reactions of most of the women, I guessed they had seen it before. Jack lifted the hanging woman behind the knees and lowered her on to his throbbing prick. Seeing he had some difficulty in entering, one of the women splayed the old ladies cunt and guided Jack’s cock in.

"My God, she’s tight and dry," groaned Jack but nevertheless pulled her in by her sore arse and then pounded her like she was thirty years younger. Some of the onlookers had tears in their eyes but many of the younger ones just looked a little hot and I dare say they felt more than a little aroused. Cook and Mrs. Warboys looked very afraid and were openly crying. Jack came surprisingly quickly so Miss. Harrington's ordeal didn’t last as long as I hoped and she was taken down but not allowed to dress.

It was now Cook’s turn. She undressed at the first order. More food had obviously entered her mouth as there was plenty of meat on her bones. Cook was about forty years old and still in good condition. Her titties were full and her nipples responded to my kneading them. When I placed my hand between her thighs, I found she was wet. The caning of Miss Harrington had turned her on but a dozen strokes of the cane soon had her singing loudly. Although I didn’t really hurt her tits, I did flick them with the cane and made them move around. Glancing around at the watching women, I noted their horrified expressions. They now knew their lives here would change.

Jack untied her and laid her along one of the refectory benches. I ordered two girls to hold her legs well apart. Again I felt her cunt and it was still wet so I had no trouble in rogering her and I too soon spurted my seed.

Alice was somewhat shocked when I ordered her to kneel in front of me and suck my cock clean. Had I not pointed to where she should kneel with the cane, she might have refused but wisely she guessed it was less painful to comply. She did a passable job but would need some training.

"You know what to do Mrs. Warboys," I ordered but she started to plead and beg until I picked up the whip and caught her chest with a good lash. She screamed and turned away from me, hugging her bosom with her arms. My second swipe swung upwards and caught the back of her thighs well towards the crease with her arse. Another scream and she fell to the floor and I was able to put the third across her stomach. "Are you going to undress now Mrs. Warboys?" I asked. A whimpered, "Yes," and she started to unbutton her shift. Despite having hit through clothing, the whip marks were clear and painful looking, especially the one across her tits. That had been a good blow, even if it was a lucky one and once she was strung to the beam I took the opportunity to knead them causing her further distress. From my close proximity to her, I could tell from the smell, her body, like the others, had not been washed for some time and resolved to ensure more personal cleanliness for the inmates in the very near future.

I gave her a similar dozen strokes to Miss Harrington, laying them on good and hard to the younger woman. Jack still hadn’t fastened his breeches and I could see he was half hard so I suggested he took her in any way he wanted. In moments he had her bent over the table and was thrusting into her doggie style, heedless of her cries as he loins banged hard against the well caned arse.

Wanting to add further humiliation and to reinforce my authority with the others, I ordered the three still naked women to stand in the centre of the room with their feet apart and their hands behind their necks. Each of the onlookers then had to go to them and feel the heat from the stripes and to finger their sperm filled cunts. I rounded this session off with another lecture on the behaviour I expected from them and expounded on how their laziness of the past months was at an end. This was a workhouse and they were expected to work, if they didn’t they would be punished and punished hard and always they would be naked and might well be in front of others when it happened. I also mentioned the standard of personal cleanliness and I would closely inspect each and every one of them while they were bathed in the kitchen that very afternoon.

An hour later, the bath was set up and I ordered Alice to be the first. She was cleaning my room when I called her. Slowly and shyly she undressed and I could see that with a little feeding up she would have a very attractive body, one that should bring in a decent revenue. When I felt her breasts she blushed and started writhing when I felt her cunt and played with her clit. "Don’t be shy Alice," I said, "You body is your greatest asset and may well get you away from here eventually. I shall be training you with my cock to please my friends and you may then be able to charm them into becoming their mistress or even their wife." Although my ministrations with her caused my cock to rise, I wanted to wait and savour her more fully in bed that night.

Though the afternoon I inspected and minutely examined all the inmates. Most were quite fuckable if presented properly. While the majority seemed to resent the way I checked their personal cleanliness one or two didn’t seem to mind at all and allowed me to bring them off with my hand. Only one was younger than Alice and she had come from the orphanage two weeks previously but wasn’t a virgin. I gather the orphanage staff took care of that. Her name was Martha and seeing her tight little cunnie and bumhole I almost gave up my resolve to wait till I’d had Alice in bed.

At teatime the meal .....’

"Oh my God!" screamed Margaret, "Look at the time! Should have started the meat cooking half an hour ago. Jeremy will be annoyed. Just have to hope he’s late too."

If anything Jeremy was a few minutes early but to Margaret’s surprise he didn’t seem to be unduly concerned so she hoped it would all pass over. That was until he said, "I think it is time we opened the cane roll Margaret, don’t you?"

Chapter 7. Lateness gets punished

"Jeremy, no, please no. I couldn’t help it. I was working on that diary book of yours and didn’t notice the time."

"Yes, and I expect it got you so horny you just sat and played with yourself," retorted Jeremy smiling.

"No Jeremy, please. I didn’t even read it properly. I only saw the code words as I typed them. I didn’t even go back and correct the text. I’m sorry Jeremy. Dinner will only be half an hour late."

"That’s not the point Margaret. I gave you a simple task and you failed me. However, we’ll eat first and then read the diary text to put us in the mood and if I think you have half an excuse I will allow you to chose the cane and I will decide on which part of your body to use it. Or would you prefer I chose the cane and you the part of the body for me to use?"

"Neither Jeremy. Sometimes I think you are as cruel as my father." Rather than start arguing with her, Jeremy left the kitchen and started to read the story on computer. It certainly got him horny and ready for his session with Margaret later. He decided to up the stakes a little when he returned.

"There are rather a lot of mistakes in your typing Margaret. Perhaps we ought to add those to the punishment tonight."

Margaret became very angry. "Jeremy, Colonel, you are most unfair. I told you I hadn’t read through the document yet. Yes, some of those mistakes may be my typing errors. I know I haven’t become familiar with that particular keyboard yet but they are not all my mistakes. Josiah made mistakes with his coding too and as with the last piece I typed I will have to guess at some of the words. The writing is almost illegible in places even with a good light. No, I don’t think I deserve further punishment for that, nor for the fact that you read the story before it was ready to be presented to you. You are very unfair. Unjust. I thought that was something that was against your principles. You said you were strict by fair. Is that now not the case?" Realising she was right, Jeremy agreed to only punish her for being late with the meal. However, Margaret still seethed with resentment and they ate in strained silence.

While Margaret washed the dishes, Jeremy cleared a table in the bedroom and found the cane roll in the storeroom where all his unpacked belongings were kept. For the time being he decided to leave it inside the double, black plastic, bin liners that had kept it clean for a number of years. "It might excite Margaret more if she has to unpack it. She's rather upset with me at the moment. I'd better go down and see what she's up to," he thought. Below he could hear the clatter of pans and rightly guessed she was having a more thorough clean than usual in order to delay the inevitable.

"Come Margaret," he ordered quietly when he returned to the kitchen. Silently she followed him to the bedroom. "Undress." With the fan heater going full blast for the past hour, the room was reasonably warm.

"Please Jeremy, don’t be too hard on me."

"It is for me to decide your punishment dear. It will fit your behaviour and strengthen your resolve to do better next time." After a pause he added and it might work you up a little and take away some of that despondency you’ve been showing over dinner. I ought to punish you for that too you know. Open the bag Margaret."

Margaret gasped when the cane roll was revealed. The beautiful and very colourful intricate designs interwoven with gold thread belied their sinister contents.

"It’s beautiful, very beautiful, Jeremy." She ran her fingers over the raised pattern and studied bizarre creatures worked into the design. Jeremy allowed her to spend some minutes enjoying the work and then again ordered her to open it. Trembling, Margaret unrolled it to reveal its painful contents. Inside, all in their individual pockets and tied in place with colourful ribbons, were a selection of canes ranging from one about three feet long and about as thick as her little finger, to shorter and thinner but very whippy canes. Besides the canes were a small leather riding crop, a multi-stranded soft leather whip, several more single tailed whips, several straps and other items she couldn’t understand the purpose of. "Oh my God," exclaimed Margaret when she saw the instruments that were likely to bring much pain to her body and perhaps some pleasure too.

"We’ll try them all out eventually Margaret, but for today you get to chose which I use. Take your pick."

Knowing she had no real choice but to do what the Colonel said it was with much trepidation and not a little excitement, Margaret touched the awesome selection of canes, whips and straps. Which should she choose? She knew the feel of terrible bite of the larger cane but guessed he wouldn’t give her as many strokes with that as with the more slender ones and it would probably be used only on her arse and not the more tender parts of her anatomy. Picking up a very slender cane, almost two feet long and only a quarter of an inch thick at its base tapering to almost nothing at the tip. It felt supple and springy in her hand and she shuddered to think of the pain that might deliver if wielded with any force on her breasts or between her legs. Then there was the group of slightly thicker canes elaborately bound with gold, red and yellow cord. Obviously these were the Indian equivalent of the English birch but made to last possibly from a tough native vine. For a few moments Margaret forgot they were to be used on her and thought of the young Meena lying naked and taking this birch across her bottom. Her reverie was interrupted when she felt Jeremy behind her and his hands cupping her tits.

"They’re lovely aren’t they?" For a fleeting moment Margaret thought he was referring to her tits but this was banished when he went on, "They were the best and most expensive in Mendle’s shop and he said they would last a lifetime." Despite her expected punishment, Margaret found herself warming to the breast massage Jeremy was giving her. Replacing the birch, she picked up the soft leather many-tongued whip. Each strand was as wide as her index finger and of thin soft suede but probably from an animal other than a cow. "This feels nice," she thought as she pulled the strands, "Perhaps it won’t hurt too much." Out loud she moaned at Jeremy’s ministrations and the wet feeling that was making itself felt between her thighs.

"Choose, Margaret." The suede whip was still in her hand so she indicated this was her choice. It didn’t feel that fearsome a weapon. "You’ve chosen the ‘Tittie Tickler’ Margaret. It’s made from the hide of a yak. Soft, supple and very tough. These tits of yours will be red, sore and nicely tender before we go to bed tonight."

"Please don’t hit them too hard Jeremy please." Margaret started to plead more for the effect than having any hope he would take any notice. By now she knew full well that once he had made up his mind to do something, very little would change it. Her pleas would just make her seem more helpless and unwilling than she really was. She knew the warming of her tits if not too severe would warm her cunt too and hoped Jeremy would be up to a long fucking session afterwards.

"Let’s prepare you Margaret." Prepare her? Her father had just held her and thrashed her. No ‘preparation’. And no preparation either for the rape that inevitably followed, whichever hole he decided to penetrate. Moving a heavy solid oak chair from a corner to the centre of the room, Jeremy tied her hands behind the back and then tightly fastened a belt around her and the chair at waist level. Satisfied her body was almost immovable in the chair Jeremy stuffed a pillow behind her shoulder blades forcing her breasts forward. "That should do nicely," he said as he squeezed her nipples.

"Jeremy?"

"Now don’t bother begging Margaret. I’m going to thrash your tits and nothing you say will alter that but if you whine too much I may have to gag you."

"I know that, Jeremy. I was going to ask that you undress too. I can see you’re sweating from the heat of the fan and I want to see what effect my thrashing has on you."

"You just want to see if my cock is ready on cue!" Jeremy laughed but although surprised, did as she requested. Watching with a mix of dread and anticipation as her partner went to the cane roll, she looked in askance when instead of bring back the Tittie Tickler he opened a bottle of oil and poured a few drops into the palm of one hand. The aromatic smell wafted to her nostrils as Jeremy massaged it into her breasts. "This will warm them and get them ready for the whipping," Jeremy explained. What he meant was the oil stimulated the blood cells in the breasts causing them to swell slightly and become firmer and make the nipples stand out hard. The lash would bite them hard but for now the effect on Margaret was stimulating. She wished he would just push his cock now standing out so proudly, right into her cunt and fuck her hard. That, though, would come later. First the pain.

For fifteen minutes, Jeremy massaged her breasts until she could stand the eroticism no longer and climaxed wetly. "Well that’s your first orgasm out of the way," Jeremy remarked, "Now let’s get to the real purpose of this, your punishment." Margaret began to come down from her high when she saw the tickler raised high in Jeremy’s hand. Then the swish before the blast of pain as the soft thongs bit hard and flattened her tits. A piercing cry came from her lips. The pain was far worse than she had expected.

"A little more than a tickle, Margaret?"

"Oh my God! Yes! I didn’t expect that. It seemed so soft but it hurts so badly. Please Jeremy, not so hard. My tits won’t stand it."

"Oh yes they will. While this is designed to hurt, it does little damage to the flesh and the marks disappear quite quickly but you won’t want to wear a bra for a while. Open your mouth." Jeremy went to the roll and removed a chunky solid leather pad. "This isn’t a gag, but you can bite on it and it should help to stifle your screams. Designed to stop you biting your tongue."

SWISH, SLAP!! SWISH, SLAP!! SWISH, SLAP!! SWISH, SLAP!! SWISH, SLAP!! So Jeremy laid the Tit Tickler on. For a few moments Margaret wondered if he was in control of himself and whether like her father, he would hit her blindly until she passed out. Although there was a wicked gleam in his eye, there was no indication he was hitting her without control and dedication. Each blow didn’t fall randomly anywhere. They precisely covered all the tit area above, below and between the teats. Finally the thongs caught, tortured and brought stinging pain to the hardened nipples. Between tears she noticed his cock still jutting out proudly. The pain in her tits grew to a tremendous burn before he finally stopped and gently kissed each tender breast.

Releasing her at last, she was laid across the bed, her legs dangling over the edge, her thighs spread obscenely ready for his cock. Jeremy couldn’t wait. Thrusting his cock straight in, he found her very wet and ready. With his own excitement now at a peak, it wasn’t long before he spurted his seed into Margaret’s waiting womb.

Later, when they had rested and he’d bathed her reddened breasts for the second time, he took her again, this time with more control and lasting long enough for Margaret to have her own climax. For a long while afterwards she lay spoon-like in front of the man who had tortured her so, and pondered on the events. There was no denying he’d hurt her. There was no denying her breasts would be sore for days and yet he had given her sexual satisfaction afterwards in a way her father hadn’t. Jeremy’s ways were somewhat strange but he seemed to like her and somehow she trusted him. He hadn’t lost control when she was totally helpless. The punishment he inflicted was painful but calculated and in the end she’d cum violently. What would the future hold for her? With him? More dreadful pain from some of the more severe canes? More sexual satisfaction? Would he want to give her more and more pain? Like her father? Should she leave and see what other work she could find? In winter? Back on the streets? Perhaps she should stick it out. At least for the time being.

Chapter 8. Fraudsters

"Aargh!" Margaret awoke from a troubled sleep with a start. Jeremy’s hands were gently massaging her sore breasts, His unexpected although light touch on the tender and sensitive mammaries roused her.

"Sorry," whispered Jeremy, "I forgot they would still be so tender."

"You whip a woman’s tits till they’re swollen and raw and not expect them to be sore the next morning?" Margaret tried to make her voice sound icy but didn’t quite make it. She felt his hard cock against her buttocks. It would probably go down when he pissed, she thought. Opening her eyes she noted the red numbers of the digital clock, 6:50. The fan heater was on. With no central heating in the old house, Jeremy had put the heater on a timer so the room would warm a little by the time they arose. In a few minutes she’d have to get up anyway to make his morning cup of tea and start breakfast.

Feeling Jeremy move away from her slightly, Margaret turned on her back and winced as her breasts rubbed on the covers. The light went on. The covers were pulled down. "Yes, they are indeed still swollen and tender Margaret. I’ll put some salve on them when you’ve washed. Meanwhile I need to relieve myself of this hard-on." Jeremy spoke in his usual quiet way and for a short while Margaret thought he would get up and go to the lavatory. That was until she felt his hand start to finger her cunt and stimulate her clit until her juices were flowing freely. "Open up dear," he ordered as he inserted his cock into her and started thrusting away. It wasn’t long before Margaret thrust back and they both climaxed. Jeremy exhausted collapsed on her.

"Aargh!" Margaret exclaimed as his chest pressed against her sore tits but after the initial shock, the pain was bearable and she held him to her.

"In some ways Jeremy, you are like my father. Both of you like hurting girls and then fucking them. Where you differ is you control yourself whereas he just let himself go and didn’t worry overmuch how much he damaged me. Afterwards he just fucked me until his lust was satisfied. You try and make sure I am satisfied too. He never ever did anything to try and relieve my pain, you do. He would never suck my cunt, you seem to enjoy it and I like sucking you too. Last night the pain in my tits was so great, but I knew they were not wounded like some of the canings I’d had on them when the marks would take weeks to disappear. Now when your body is pressing on them I have a warm glow all over and feel horny. If you don’t punish me for being late with breakfast, I will suck you clean and then offer my body to you again if you want to use it."

Jeremy looked at the clock. "Breakfast will be at 8:15 this morning," he grinned, "Now wench, climb on top of me and clean me while I perform on your delightful warm crack of yours. You’ll have to be quick mind. I need to pee pretty badly."

"So do I," laughed Margaret, "And that is another of the perversions, my father made me perform."

"You’re probably much more experienced at it than I but I have tried it quite a few times and it is not too unpleasant. In India some groups of people actually think it is a beneficial tonic."

"Just go easy then Jeremy and I will too. We don’t want to wet the sheets. In this weather it is difficult to get them to dry." Jeremy smiled at the practicality of her remark.

For some minutes their tongues cleaned each other’s genitals until Jeremy asked, "Are you ready?" A murmured, "Yes" and he felt her finger grasp the base of his cock ready to control the flow. He had no such option. Now he felt her lips tighten around his shaft and his flow start. Every so often she stopped his flow to swallow. Even when he finished her tongue still licked around his cock head.

"Are you ready now?" Margaret asked. Receiving his assent, she said, "I will try and go slow and stop at intervals so you can swallow too." As the acrid liquid touched his throat, Jeremy recalled the beautiful young woman in the India who first introduced him to this service. He’d bedded her for several months and delighted in taking his piss into her either directly from his prick or by filling a glass. An hour or so later, she insisted on giving it back to him, recycled through her system. Meena hadn’t been so keen although she did so when ordered.

*****

By mid morning coffee break, the essential household chores were done. "What would you like me to do now Jeremy?" Margaret asked.

"I think I will try and finish or at least continue sorting out the punishment room and the equipment so we can get it back in there tidily. I’m expecting someone from the planning office to visit next week and want that room locked up when he comes. You can carry on decoding the diary and if I need help then I’ll give you a call. You can even leave your tits on show while you’re typing then your sweater won’t rub them."

"Yeah, and they change from red to frozen blue in this cold workhouse!" Margaret’s laugh took the sting from the comment.

After correcting her work of the previous afternoon, Margaret tried to picture the scene as it had occurred in the other room all those years ago as she read again the last paragraph,

‘Though the afternoon I inspected and minutely examined all the inmates. Most were quite fuckable if presented properly. While the majority seemed to resent the way I checked their personal cleanliness one or two didn’t seem to mind at all and allowed me to bring them off with my hand. Only one was younger than Alice and she had come from the orphanage two weeks previously but wasn’t a virgin. I gather the orphanage staff took care of that. Her name was Martha and seeing her tight little cunnie and bumhole I almost gave up my resolve to wait till I’d had Alice in bed.’

"I wonder what went through their minds as stood in the tin bath and had to allow a stranger to examine them? No doubt ‘minutely examined’ meant he’d had his fingers in their ‘cunnies’ or mauled their tits. I bet he had a hard-on while he did it. Pity there is no picture of him. Better get typing before I get too horny," she mused.

‘At teatime the meal was somewhat improved but still it was a meagre repast. I again cautioned cook that things had better improve otherwise she would taste the birch on her already sore body. Her reply was that the money she was allowed to buy food was insufficient. Immediately after the meal I demanded the accounts book which she reluctantly gave me. In my room I questioned Alice about some of the luxury items listed and the amount of meat supplied and was told she had never seen any of these things and the quantities of other basic items always seemed greater than actually arrived at the house. Warning Alice not to mention any of this to anyone, I returned the ledger and took Alice to bed. She was most enjoyable and enthusiastically took my cock in her cunnie and her bottom hole, which pleased me.

March 23rd 1831

Next morning when the grocer’s cart from Pennydelset arrived and Cook had supposedly checked them, I had Jack put the supplies to one side and checked them again against the bill. Alice was there and was found to be quite good at adding up the figures. As I had suspected, there was a large discrepancy. Immediately I ordered Jack to bring Cook to me. Her ashen face when showed the bill, told me she was in on a scheme to make a little money on the side by defrauding the workhouse. Unfortunately for her, she'd had no time to warn the grocer that I was looking into the books. Between us we stripped her and tied her hands to the beam just as we had yesterday. This time though I sent everyone except Jack from the room. Cook pleaded incessantly for me not to hit her again, as she was still sore from her caning. This was true but I had no intention of allowing that to influence me. When Alice came back in with the cat-o-nine-tails I had sent her for I showed her the fearsome instrument and cracked it loudly in front of her. After her hysterics had calmed a little I said, "Cook, we know you have been stealing workhouse funds, if you don’t want that skin of yours flayed off you bones, you had better tell us how you and Mr. Bell the grocer, worked this scheme. Answer me now!" When she didn’t I laid a stroke across her shoulders which brought forth a hideous scream. I stood in front of her again and made as if I would strike her bosom. At this she broke down and told us everything. According to her Mr. Bell was the instigator, Mr. Bell made the money and she only got a few pennies from the arrangement. I pretended to believe her. Giving Jack orders to lock her in an attic room and not allow anyone to visit her except him, I took to my horse and sort out Squire Pemberton. While I felt free to deal with one of my women, I didn’t wish to affect any dealing he might have with Bell.

Squire heard me out and then remarked sagely, "So Bell is up to his old tricks again is he? He’ll have to be taught another lesson." He went on to explain his cook had been approached but she had told Squire who suggested she went along with the plan so they caught him. He was given the choice of imprisonment or a thrashing. He took the thrashing and was mortified that his wife and two sons had to watch. That was ten years ago. Sons have left home now but wifee has lost none of her charms. "She continues to live with him but is a wife in name only," Squire said, "We may be able to have a little fun with her too."

I went back to Squire Pemberton that evening and he had both James Bell and his wife Laura there. His men had brought them to the manor after the shop had closed. James was stripped and tied to an upright whipping frame. I noticed a few stripes across his back when I arrived. Laura sat impassively in a chair watching. "Ah Josiah," Squire greeted me when I arrived, "Glad you could come. We’re just about to find out how much Bell has stolen from the workhouse. Aren’t we Bell?"

"I’ve not stolen anything," Bell yelled, "It was Clara Vince, the cook."

"And you had nothing to do with it?" Squire asked.

"No. Nothing."

"CRAAACKK!!" Squire brought a many-stranded whip down hard across the front of Bell’s thighs. His prick, which had been half erect from us looking at him, took the full force of the blow and before he had hardly time to yell, there was another "CRAAACKK!!" Squire had given him another cut with the whip to the same area but this one came in an upward movement and caught the underside of the man’s cock and balls and flung them back against his stomach. Vivid welts appeared across his thighs and droplets of blood ran down. We had to wait for some minutes until the man calmed down sufficiently to make our voices heard above his din. "Now tell us the truth," Squire demanded. Bell babbled for a while but after receiving a cut with the whip across his arse, he began to confess and we teased the whole story from him.

"Squire, please ask him how often he put his cock into that Clara woman?" Laura spoke for the first time. We heard he poked Clara as often as they were able to get together. "Whip his balls off for me," Laura spat the words with hatred and venom.

"Not yet, Laura. We must find out exactly how much he has defrauded us and then exact payment from him and Clara." Turning to me he said, "I will send Robertson, my accountant in tomorrow to look through his ledgers."

We arranged for Laura to look after the shop till the end of the week and on Saturday evening I would bring Clara to the Hall and we would decide what to do with both of them. Later while supping ale I asked Squire why he hadn’t questioned Laura. "I’m sure she has nothing to do with the shop nowadays and is hardly on speaking terms with her husband. She’s still damned attractive though and I think we may well be able to get our cocks into her cunnie without problems if we play our cards right. We also need to keep the shop in the village. Closing it would mean hardship for many Pennydelset inhabitants and could cause unrest that might be difficult to deal with. I could tell the squire was a cunning man.’

"Time to make some lunch," Jeremy called and then came in to see what she had on the screen. Margaret gently tucked her tits back into her blouse and made for the kitchen.

Chapter 9. Boys games

"Penny for them Margaret."

She had sat with her tea in her hands for some minutes without speaking. "Jeremy? Have you ever seen a man get his cock whipped? I’ve been whipped between my thighs and it is extremely painful. Is it the same for a man?"

"You wonder about James Bell?" Margaret nodded. "Of course whipping a cock is painful like it is anywhere on sensitive bare flesh but if it is only the cock that is hit, a man can take quite a few strokes but if his balls catch the switch, he will be nearly sick with pain. It also depends on the instrument used and the force applied. A light belting can be stimulating, cuts with the whip could render the cock incapable of erection for some time."

"You ever had your cock caned?"

"Not since I was a young boy. A group of us used to wank ourselves in a barn on a farm where one of them lived. It wasn’t really a homosexual thing, more experimenting with sex. We’d have little competitions to see who could come first or shoot the furthest. A macho thing. Who was the toughest and could take most strokes of the belt across their arse or, occasionally, across the cock. We’d also have competitions to see who could hold the most weight on their cock."

"What did you do? Tie things to each other’s cocks?"

"No. The barn had an old pair of scales for weighing corn and stuff. It was the type that had a bar and a hook on which the weights were hung for the pounds and a slider for ounces. We used to take the hook and hang it on the cock just behind the head. We put on weights until the cook dipped enough for the hook to slide off." Jeremy paused and smiled remembering. "I even tried to develop my cock muscles to win that competition but I never did."

"How on earth did you try and develop them?"

"Every night before bed I would get myself hard and then try and force my cock down and hold it down. I really don’t know if it did any good. Clive always won. His cock was fatter but not as long as mine. I tried to argue that it was all to do with leverage but it made no difference. Only when one of the farm workers caught us did I see a cock take more. The lad was about nineteen at the time and had a massive weapon or so it seemed to us. He whipped it out, gave it a few rubs and then hung several pounds on it."

"How many strokes of the belt did you take?" Margaret seemed unusually interested in getting back to her original question.

"Eight was my best but one boy took fourteen. We had rules of sorts to try and keep things fair. Each boy had to start with a hard-on. You must remember we were only boys thirteen or fourteen years old and our cocks were much smaller. He then knelt down and rested his cock flat on a full sack of corn that made a sort of firm pillow under it. His hands would then be pinned behind his back by another boy or boys. There would be a designated ‘whipper’ for that day and he would have to try and hit the cock with the last few inches of the belt. He would lay on four strokes and then ask if the victim wanted another four. Usually after the first four, any erection would have gone down and the cock could be rolled over on the sack so the underside could be hit too. After each four the boy could opt to continue of stop. After a dozen the belt was given in batches of two. We all tried to be macho and take as many as we could although I am not sure many enjoyed it at the time. Later when the main pain subsided and there was only soreness left we tended to get enormous erections and had to wank several times. A year or two later I did something similar with another boy I went on a sailing holiday with but that was for different reasons."

"I suppose having a sore prick is like how my tits are now. Tender enough to feel every movement but not unduly sore. I feel them all the time and it makes me horny," giggled Margaret. Jeremy went behind her and fished her breasts from her blouse again and started to knead them. She felt his hard cock at her back, reached round and gripped it in her fist. Without further ado Jeremy bent her over the table and took her doggie fashion.

"Now look what you have done woman!" Jeremy complained with a grin, "You’ve let the tea get cold. Make another pot before I take the strap to you."

Margaret knew he was joking but replied, "As you wish Sir."

When they were again seated with fresh mugs of tea, Jeremy went on. "I did see our cock punishment competition taken a lot further while at officer training. Two cadets had a heated argument over some girl and started bragging how tough each was, who could take the most punishment and who was best equipped to service the girl. The argument went on for most of the evening getting more and more heated and the claims of their prowess getting more exaggerated all the time. I remembered and suggested a cock caning test of strength to determine who was the hard man and whose cock was really the toughest."

"The idea caught on with the rest of the cadets in the barrack room who also wanted a means of shutting these two braggarts up. Both were big tough fellas and it was decided to use a riding crop that we had for cavalry training. They stripped off and put their cocks flat on opposite corners of a tabletop. A belt was passed around their thighs and the table leg so they couldn’t pull away from the table and hands were tied behind their backs. As their pricks were at an angle to both the end and side of the table it fully exposed them for the punishment from two directions. Both cocks were roughly the same size at about seven inches and at this stage they were fairly hard. A ‘whipper’ was agreed on and he had to start from the base of the shaft and work along the topside to the head. If they took that much, the cock would be turned and the process repeated on the underside. One stroke to be given to each in turn. They would be allowed to cry out but if they yelled "Pax" it would be the end of the competition provided the opponent took one more."

"The whipper had no love for the two either and really laid the crop on hard. Our crop didn’t have the little flap at the end that you often see the girls from riding stables use, it just tapered off to pencil thickness. This thin whippy end would bite into flesh and cause tremendous pain. Our instructors cautioned its use on horses. Neither of the men could stand more than the first two cuts without yelling. We all stood round, fascinated by the sight of the red lines that appeared across the root end of the two cocks. Soon both the toughies were yelling each time but neither would give in. We watched as the cocks turned red and started to swell but not with heat of sex. Both men yelled when their cocks were turned on the hard table but they each took four more before one gave in and the winner took his extra one. Neither man dared to hold his cock to pee. A few days later when I saw the loser in the showers, his cock was still colourfully bruised and tender. I'm certain he was in a great deal of pain when his trousers rubbed while riding his horse."

"How many were there in your barrack room watching this?" Margaret asked, "Surely there were some that would have pity on the men and would have tried to stop it?"

"There were twenty of us and if anyone had objected they would have quickly been silenced. The vast majority, like me had hard-ons I’m sure and we’d heard enough from the two so it was a change and a pleasure to hear them screaming instead of boasting. News of the caning must have got to the ears of the NCO’s and while nothing was said directly, the following Saturday we were all confined to barracks for a bull night. Army slang for a bullshit night, a night for cleaning and polishing everything inside our hut. After doing his inspection, the sergeant ordered us to stand for a FFI inspection. This meant we had to stand to attention naked and he would come around and lift our cocks with his baton supposedly looking to see if we were free from infection which is where the letters FFI come from. If it had been a proper FFI there would have been a medical orderly with him. He got to the winner and the man winced when the baton none too gently lifted his blue bruised cock but wouldn’t say what happened when the sergeant suggested, "You look as if you might be getting a dose of the clap or something. Where you been putting this thing?" The same thing when he came to the loser. When he came to a very timid cadet, he asked if he would like a blue cock as well and then asked him what happened. It only took a little grilling and some threats for him to spill the beans. To our surprise the Sarg. just said, to make sure the curtains were closed next time so recruits in the next billet didn’t look in."

"How many did the winner take?" asked Margaret

"Nineteen." After a short pause Jeremy went on, "Now you had better get back to work and don’t forget to start dinner today."

"Sex and your stomach’s. That’s all you men think about," laughed Margaret. Despite her punishments, she liked this man. Yes he spanked and caned her but less than her father and he made sex enjoyable. She didn’t feel as if she was constantly being raped. She was also being paid to be with him, albeit not very much. They had finally agreed she would be there as self employed at £100 per week. From that he would deduct £20 towards the cost of the clothing she had bought but he would pay her insurance stamp, feed and provide her working gear. Each Friday he gave her a cheque, which they deposited in her own bank account. It wasn’t much but it was hers and she had a roof over her head, a bed to sleep in and a cock to satisfy her desires.

Chapter 10. Fraudsters punished

March 27th 1831

‘Saturday evening came and I cancelled the session at the workhouse although of course, those deserving punishment received their due. I held the session during the afternoon with only a few guests looking on. Instead I took the cart with Clara to the manor. I’d kept her confined in the one room and had Jack take her meals and empty her slops. He also put her to his cock whenever he felt like it. She was understandably frightened and sat shivering and sobbing in the cart during our journey. I guess she understood that after that night she probably wouldn’t have anywhere to live. I had given three of the other ladies each a three-day trial for the post of cook. Henrietta had done her three days quite satisfactorily cooking-wise but had difficulty with the accounts. Alice was on her first day and had produced a couple of good meals but I didn’t make up my mind to appoint her till later the following week. She was the only one of the three that could add up the figures correctly.

Higgins and another male servant took Clara when we arrived at Grange Manor and I spent a pleasant hour with the other guests, supping ale and smoking our pipes until Higgins came in and spoke with the squire. We all trouped down to the punishment room and were greeted by the sight of Bell and Clara hanging naked and back to back from the ceiling beam. Shortly after Laura, Bell's wife, who stood and looked with some disgust on the two, joined us. Three other ladies, who were wives or friends of other guests, had expressed a desire to see the thrashing and stood together close to the miscreants. They were openly appraising the bodily organs of the pair. Squire took Laura and myself into a corner. "Laura you still want to be rid of your husband and want be in full charge of the shop?" Squire asked.

"Yes, definitely," she replied, "Especially as over the last few days the takings have gone up even though we’ve had the same amount of customers. I guess that crook was creaming off some of the money there too."

"And you know the compensation we will want from you for arranging this and to make up for the losses caused to the workhouse and others?"

"I am to make myself available to you both when required," she answered very quietly.

"You willingly agree to this?" Laura nodded.

We returned to the group looking at the hanging pair. Higgins entered bare-chested and wearing a hood. To one side stood a large barrel containing a good number of birch rods. In this part of the country, they are not birch branches but willow osiers which grow profusely along the river and on the flood plain. Still everyone calls them birches. They seem equally as effective and last well.

Squire turned to us, "Gentlemen and ladies, you are here to witness the punishment of these two scoundrels on two counts. Both have admitted to have stolen money, charity money at that, and committed adultery. I have asked Laura Bell, the aggrieved wife if she wishes to forgive his sin and take him back into her care but she has declined. I ask her again in front of you all, Mrs. Bell, do you wish this pair punished for their adultery?"

"Yes," Laura replied loudly, "To the full extent you are able."

"James Bell and Clara Vince, you are sentenced to be thoroughly birched and dismissed from this parish," intoned Squire. I had the thought that he should have donned a black hat. Higgins shook a birch to remove some of the vinegar solution they were steeped in and stepping to one side of Bell, laid the first stroke high across his chest. I couldn’t see the marks it made as I stood in front of Clara but Bell cried out hoarsely. When Higgins moved around to Clara’s side, she begged and pleaded for him not to do it but, as I found out later, Higgins very much enjoyed his role and totally ignored her begging. Her first stroke went across her chest too, just above her breasts and left a series of red welts. Bell received his next, which must have caught his nipples as he yelled at the top of his voice. Clara’s next was across the top of her breasts just missing the teats. The force of the blow flattened them to her chest and I thought she would pass out but she didn’t. In strict order, Higgins worked down the body of each. He did seem to hit Clara especially hard on her bosoms, flattening them three times and causing her extreme pain. His punishment seem to ease across the stomach until he reached the crotch and then the birch again sang very loudly, Both scoundrels had to be revived at that point by having water thrown over them. Finally the birch reached their knees and Higgins went to put the birch back in the tub.

"Wait Higgings," yelled the Reverend Jenkins. I hadn’t seen him arrive. "Make sure those adulterous areas between their thighs are well attended to. That is one of the reasons they are here." Higgins cracked two upper cuts between their spread legs alternately from each side. Each stroke caught both of them as the supple canes bent around and bit hard into both sets of genitals. Both now screamed hoarsely before they slumped into a faint and needed more water to revive them.

We had a break there while the maids supplied more ale and wine the two were brought to consciousness again. Under Higgins direction, they were fastened back to the beam, this time face to face, sore chest to sore chest. Bell’s flaccid cock hard against her tender pubic mound. I had a fierce erection and was gratified when one of the maids asked if I needed relief. When I indicated I did, she took me in her mouth and soon extracted my seed. Afterwards she moved to one of the other guests and did the same thing. I saw the Reverend being attended to as well and was obviously enjoying it. I guessed I would have an ally if Miss Harrington did decide to complain to him. During this wine break we discussed the thrashing as far as it had gone and took wagers on the possibilities of them staying awake for the full thrashing.

Presently Squire tapped his glass, called for order and instructed Higgins to resume his work. This time it was from the back of the knees upwards. It was perhaps an anticlimax after the frontal thrashing but it was good to see the two writhing against each other in their agony. Finally, again at the Reverend’s behest, Higgins laid the final two strokes up between their legs, which left them hanging almost lifeless. They were taken down and again revived. Squire ended the evening's event by admonishing them for their misdeeds and with great generosity said, "I will not send you on your way on the Sabbath but on Monday you will be taken by cart to the parish boundary. As a gesture of goodwill on my part, I will give each of you a shilling so you are not destitute and as a token payment for your part in this evening’s entertainment. Go forth from our parish and never return."

Turning, he invited us to the drawing room for wine. I spoke with one of the ladies who had witnessed the event. She looked very flushed and I guessed she was wet between her legs. When I asked if she enjoyed the show she replied, "Oh, yes, I think they both ought to be given the same again next week and then taken to Mission Hut on the quay for the pleasure of the sailors after their long voyages." Yet another example of the cruelty of women. Shortly after her husband took her upstairs.

I noticed the squire did not arrive in the drawing room until some twenty minutes later and then he came to me, "She’s in the Maple Room Josiah, ready and waiting. Seems she hasn’t had a cock for some time and is ready for plenty." Laura was lying naked on the bed in the Maple Room when I entered. It didn’t take but a moment for me to remove my breeches and enter her. She was already well lubricated from the squire’s reaming and I guess from the stimulation of watching the thrashing of her husband and Clara. Having already spent a copious amount of my seed into the maid’s mouth a little earlier, I took my time with Laura. "Oooh," she cried, "You’re bigger than Squire." This pleased me although, having seen the squire in action, I already knew I had the edge on him in the cock department. Laura humped back vigorously and I had a most enjoyable fuck. I asked her how she felt when her husband was being beaten. "Relieved and pleased," she replied, "Relieved because I will no longer be just a thing to get his meals; pleased to see him getting his just desserts. He hasn’t slept in my bed for some years but I know he has been in more than Clara’s hole. It would have pleased me even more if they had cut his cock off and stuffed it inside that woman and sealed it there." I played with her titties for while and then her hand found my cock and brought it back to hardness and I took her once more.

I returned to the drawing room soon after. There was much sport going on there with the maids servicing the guests apparently with relish although I guessed many were only doing it because of the squire’s orders. Victoria was in there bent over a chair with her skirts pulled right up and Ralph Stevens who owns a farm just outside the village was reaming her. The stripes she had received on the day of my first visit were still visible although I don’t think they caused her any hardship now. She was thrusting well back on to the cock that was inside her. I watched the gathering for a while and especially noted the parson’s performance. He seemed to pay no heed to his own preaching about illicit fornication. However, having spent myself three times already, I took my leave and journeyed home, musing all the way on the happenings that had occurred.’

"I’d better stop there," Margaret muttered to herself. She corrected the text and went to the kitchen to start dinner. Later sitting by the fire she asked Jeremy, "Do willow osiers still grow in these parts? By the river and on the flood plain, wherever that is?"

"There’s still some willows by the river and even at the end of our garden but they haven’t been pruned for many years so there wouldn’t be much of a crop of osiers for basket making. Much of the flood plain has been built on which is why that new estate was flooded when the bund broke about three years ago. Why do you want to know?" It seemed a strange question to Jeremy.

Margaret told him and Jeremy suggested when the weather was good enough they went and looked at their willows and perhaps prune them back to get a supply for later in the year. "I wasn’t asking to find out in a practical way," she cried. "You’ve enough painful things in your collection as it is! I just wanted to see what a willow birch would look like."

Chapter 11. Saturday

March 29th 1831

‘Over the next fortnight my efforts to get the workhouse into shape were producing good results. The place was looking much cleaner as were the women. Alice was now cook but she still slept in my bed most nights, even when I had Martha there too. It is one of my pleasures in life to sleep between two naked young ladies. Feeling that it was my duty, I did put my cock into every one of the women, including the oldest, which didn’t give me much pleasure. Jack didn’t seem to mind though so I allowed him to roger any of the over forties anytime he wished and some of the others when he requested. Alice and Martha I kept for my personal use. I didn’t wish their holes to become loose from his rather large weapon.

The meals had improved considerably and the women were looking much better. Now their ribs barely showed beneath their titties. I think they appreciated my strictness over the food and cleanliness but perhaps not so much my strictness over what they were supposed to do. I insisted that as I fed them well, they had to work well.

On the second Saturday evening, I fully implemented my punishment system. At that time I only had a cut down table for fastening each miscreant to but it served well enough. There were five names on the punishment board. Miss Harrington, who had yet to curb her sharp tongue, had five chalk marks, Mrs. Warboys three, Henrietta a pleasant enough woman in her mid thirties and Mary a somewhat older woman both had two. I had also given Martha one for knocking over the piss pot when she got up one morning. All five were made to remove all their clothing and stand along the end wall of the room I had now designated the punishment room. It was very chilly in there and they seemed to shiver as much from fear as from the cold. As I suspected, Miss Harrington again protested so I added another two marks against her name. Perhaps she will learn one of these days. The remaining women stood by the side wall where they would be able to see the punishments.

Having given them a little speech on their behaviour I went on, "You are each to receive two strokes of the birch for every chalk mark. When ordered to do so, you will lie face down on the table and spread your legs wide. If you have three chalk marks or less you will hold the front legs tightly until the end of your punishment. If we have to strap you down, it will incur another two marks. For four or more marks you will be strapped tightly to the table." I made sure they understood as it was the first time we’d had this punishment session although of course they remembered how some had been punished when I arrived and had seen the punishments on the previous Saturday afternoon although I had been somewhat more lenient then.

I thought Miss Harrington was going to protest once more when I called her up but she wisely for once, held her tongue. Jack fastened her down and made sure her woman’s opening was well displayed. From the vinegar pot I took one of the new birches I’d had made, and laid it well and truly across that bitter old woman’s arse. She screamed and pleaded but I carried on laying it across her wizened bottom flesh and thighs. The fresh stripes soon covered the fading ones from my first attention to that area. Her screams and cries were quite pitiful but I ignored them. I offered Jack her cunnie but he declined knowing there was younger and more attractive dishes to come. He led her sobbing back to the wall and gave her a stool so she could stand with something to hold on to.

Mrs. Warboys, I have just started to call her Hilda, was next. She yelled at each stroke but managed to keep hold of the table legs. Jack again declined to poke her. Mary took hers well enough but she only had four strokes as did Henrietta. It was her that Jack decided he’d bury his cock in. He’d been in her quite a few times since my arrival so she took it easily and indeed seemed to enjoy the experience.

I took my time preparing Martha and made sure she was well exposed even for only two strokes of the birch. Her young and tender bum would no doubt take the birch well especially since she had told me the orphanage was very strict with the boys and girls there and she had not infrequently received the strap and cane. Consequently I laid the two strokes on good and hard, as I didn’t want the others to think I was being lenient with her for sleeping in my bed. She yelped a bit but held on to the legs. In front of everyone, I produced my cock and rogered her hard. She was wet already and later she told me she was wet from watching the birching of the others. When I was finished I asked Alice to clean my cock which she did although her mouth had been around it many times now, she blushed a little at having to do it in front of the others.

Before concluding the punishment session, I made another little speech. "Ladies, in future these punishment sessions will be held in front of guests who will pay to watch and if they so wish, you will be rogered by them afterwards. Those of you not undergoing punishments will be expected to allow the gentlemen full access to your bodies and you will accommodate any requests they make. It is essential that you provide a good service to them. Any complaints will either be dealt with immediately or at the following week’s punishment session. I must emphasise that to help the financial well being of this workhouse and to keep us in Squire’s good graces, you must appear willing to do whatever is asked of you. Since I arrived I know your cunnies have been attended to but you must also be prepared to offer your bottom holes and your mouths to their cocks as well. I will ask Jack to ream the arseholes of all the older women here at least once in the coming week so you will know what to expect. I have already opened up our three younger maids." Several women looked shocked at this but perhaps because the two old maids were still groaning a crying from their birching, none said anything.’

"I don’t think the cut off table exists anymore," Margaret muttered to herself when read over the text, "They probably replaced it with the low oak bench with the leather straps that is still in the room."

‘Monday midday, I saw Jack half carrying a struggling Hilda Warboys into the punishment room. I had not allowed him to do more than give the women a sound hand spanking so followed him in. He greeted me with, "She don’t want ‘er ‘ole opened." Deftly he fastened her arms and legs to the table and lifted her skirts. Her bum showed the fierce red stripes I had laid down and these I knew were still very sore. Jack didn’t waste any time but started spanking her hard until her bottom was very red indeed. Jack is a strong man and a hand spanking from him might well be a good as a strapping from me. Hilda was again crying and pleading for him to stop but he kept on until he thought she’d had enough. I liked the way that once Jack took to a task, he kept on at it until he deemed it complete. Immediately he pulled out his hard cock, forced her tender cheeks apart with his hands and tried to push his cock into her bum hole. Although he pushed hard it didn’t want to enter.

"Wait a moment Jack," I said and went to fetch some dripping from the kitchen. Several women were standing around trying to look busy but I knew they were listening to hear what was happening in the punishment room. I bade them go in and watch. Mary was one of them and I ordered her to coat Jack’s prick with the dripping and put some in Hilda’s hole, which she did. "Help Jack put it in," I ordered and she aligned his prick with the hole when he pushed. This time it did enter and ignoring her yelling, Jack fucked her hard until he spent. For some minutes he left his prick in her ‘to help stretch ‘er muscles,’ as he put it and then went to her mouth and ordered her to clean him. Knowing she had no choice, this she did, albeit reluctantly.

This didn’t satisfy me, as on Saturday she would need to perform much more willingly. I asked Jack if he would mind rogering her arse once every day and make her clean him properly each time. Of course he agreed readily. We released Hilda from the table and I bade the others to return to their work.’

Margaret screwed her eyes and stretched after she had read and corrected the story. "This place was more like a brothel," she thought, "I’d heard they punished people severely in those days but never thought about how severe it was or how they were made to prostitute themselves so. I’m pretty certain this story isn’t fiction."

*****

"I’ve had the heater on in the punishment room for an hour now so it’s warm enough for you to try out some of the equipment."

"Is that an order Colonel?" Margaret questioned sensing he was in his ‘military mode’.

"Yes, if that’s the way you want it. I thought you might have wished to feel what some of the equipment they used long ago felt like." Jeremy replied.

"Maybe but I am not so sure as to what you might do when I am strapped down and helpless and, as you saw this morning, I’ve just started my period and am flowing heavily."

"You’ve had periods twelve or thirteen times a year for twenty or twenty-five years. I don’t expect your father stopped screwing you for three days each month did he?"

"No." Margaret admitted. "When I was a teenager he seemed to delight when I started bleeding and often would wipe his cock and balls with my soiled towel before screwing me. Afterwards I would have to clean him as usual. I refused once and then he gagged me with the towel and then while it was still in my mouth, he wetted it with his piss. That wasn’t the end of it either. I was still flowing heavily so he sat me over his cock while he watched TV for the evening and then I had to tongue clean his cock again. Afterwards I got a dose of the strap on my cunt so I never refused again."

"I thought he might have used your arsehole during your periods."

"He did. Sometimes alternating from one to the other. I hated my period times but he seemed to delight in them."

"Well I’ve done both to women at menses time so I’m not putting it off now. It’s a Saturday so time for some appropriate entertainment."

"You wouldn’t want to get the equipment stained though would you? Not now you’ve got it all nice and clean and the new straps and all."

"Don’t argue. Get yourself into the punishment room miss and strip off." Jeremy in his military mode expected to be obeyed without hesitation. Margaret did so. Jeremy led her to the trestle with the wooden inverted Vee bar and made her lie along it. The apex had been rounded off so it was about an inch across. Even so it still pressed hard into the cleavage between her breasts and into her slit. It wasn’t too bad at the moment but she knew the pain would increase with time. It increased too when he tightened the straps around her wrists and ankles and then the one around her body.

"My God, that hurts Jeremy. Ease the straps a bit. Jeremy! ..." But Jeremy had left the room. Margaret tried to move to ease the pressure a little but to no avail. She screamed to be released but it was long minutes before Jeremy re-entered the room, this time carrying a bundle of willow osiers roughly and hastily bound at one end. He placed it at the side where she could see the freshly cut rods, glistening and wet. While Margaret pleaded Jeremy felt along her body. He squeezed her tits to the rail and fingered her arsehole.

"Can you begin to feel what it was like to be helpless and in pain and awaiting further pain, Margaret?" She only pleaded and cursed. Jeremy turned all the lights out except one, which made the room seem extremely gloomy. "Just imagine yourself surrounded by men and perhaps some women, wanting to see you subjected to terrible pain. Men who you knew would ravage you afterwards without any thought for your pain, only their pleasure. Imagine it Margaret. See them in your mind, illuminated by the smoky, flickering light of oil lamps and candles. Vague shapes in the near darkness. See this birch I made. Twigs are still wet from the rain. It’s not very neat I know but I only just went down the garden to cut the osiers. Six of them Margaret. Six lines of fire across your arse with each stroke. Imagine it Margaret. Imagine the audience of men and perhaps some women for they are often more cruel, urging me to hit harder and harder. To go on and on and on. Till your arse is one bleeding blister. Margaret Smith you have three chalk marks against your name, you know how many strokes that is?"

"Six." Margaret was sobbing hysterically now. "Has something snapped in Jeremy’s mind? Will he flog me like he is saying until I cannot move and pass out? Has he lost control of himself? Oh my God, how did I get into this mess?" She cried, pleaded, cajoled to no avail. "Let me go, Let me go. Jeremy, don’t do this. Just let me go. I will get out of your life. I won’t say anything." It was as if Jeremy was deaf.

Jeremy picked up the rod. "Yes, six hard strokes of the birch. Six canes hitting your arse at once. Leaving lived welts; livid painful welts that will show for a long while. Can you hear the other women waiting by the wall crying? Can you hear the men cheering, Margaret? Can you hear them shouting, ‘Thrash her, thrash her, thrash her?’ I can. They want blood. I can give them that with just this supple bundle of twigs. Are you ready for a flogging Margaret?"

"No, Jeremy, NO! Please don’t do it. Release me. Please I beg you, release me."

"Not until you’ve had a thrashing, Margaret dear. Ready now? Here it comes." Jeremy brought the birch smartly across both bum cheeks but didn’t use his full force. Nevertheless Margaret screamed. She was sure she was cut and bleeding. "Hear the cheers, Margaret?" They want more. I will give it to them." The birch came down again adding more stripes and raising narrow welts. Margaret was almost beyond screaming. She was certain now she was living with a madman. Six times the birch landed, the last harder than the rest. Believing beyond any doubt she was cut and bleeding, Margaret still begged for release.

"Are you ready for the raping now Margaret? There’s a whole queue of men waiting to get their cocks into your tender cunt and whipped arse. We’ll just have to lift you a little first." Jeremy undid the ankle and body straps and placed a shaped padded hide bolster under her stomach. "I wondered what this was for but now I think I have the answer. The Vee shape underneath is intended to fit over the bar and the saddle is to fit the stomach to lift it and make your cunt and arse more accessible." He slid the bolster along until it raised her to the right height for him to enter his prick and then strapped her ankles again.

"Please no, Jeremy. Colonel!" She hoped using his rank might bring him out of his sadistic mood, "Colonel please stop. I’m too hurt. I’m bleeding. You’re an officer. Don’t do it."

Jeremy thought, "Yes you are bleeding but only from your cunt. Not from the birch although it may seem like it." Aloud he went on, "Here’s the first rapist Margaret. Just a moment while I collect his money then you’ll feel his cock force its way inside you." Moments later he plunged his cock in and fucked her for a few moments, then withdrew, moved away and came back. "Rapist number two," he growled and started fucking her again. Once again he withdrew without spurting his seed. Acting as the third rapist he pushed his cock into her arsehole, causing a further scream from Margaret. This time it didn’t take many thrusts before he shot his load into her bowels. "Anyone else want to pay a shilling for her?" Jeremy called to his imaginary audience. "No? Come on Gentlemen, get those cocks out and into this lovely tender cunt and arse. Feel the warmth coming from her well-thrashed backside. Still no takers? Perhaps you’re holding back waiting for some of the other beauties waiting to be tenderly warmed up."

As soon as Jeremy released her, Margaret’s hands flew to her buttocks. She was surprised to find they were not covered with blood. He helped her to the bathroom so she could see the stripes but they weren’t as deep or a red as she had anticipated. She’d had far worse canings. Slowly she began to realise, the word pictures that Jeremy had painted had made her believe she was to be beaten until she almost bled to death. "You bastard!" she muttered at him, part in anger part in relief. "You bastard. I thought you had lost control and were flogging me to death."

"I wanted you to try and feel what the women, and men too, in the early eighteen hundreds must have felt when they were ordered to be punished. It must have been a terrifying experience. You can now feel the thoughts that must have gone through Clara and Bell’s minds when they were hung for flogging with much greater clarity. Am I right Margaret?"

"Yes, damn you. I can feel for them only too well, you bastard. I don’t think I have ever been so scared."

Chapter 12. More Saturday entertainment

Putting and extra cushion on her chair, Margaret tentatively sat down and fired up the computer. While it went through the start-up sequence she thought again on the happenings of yesterday. She knew she would view the writings in the diary in a different light. She knew now, Jeremy had only hit her comparatively lightly and her arse was only tender, not bruised or welted except for some quite fine lines, and there were no open cuts. The ones from his last stroke were the worst and even then he’d pulled back and refrained from hitting her with full force. "It must have been hell for that old Miss Harrington. I’m sure they gave it to her good and hard especially as she seems to have been such a bitch. She must have been scared shitless when they tied her to the table." Opening the old book again Margaret started to type. The code programme translated it as she went along.

April 4th 1831

‘On the following Thursday Carsons the village carpenter, arrived by cart and unloaded a trestle similar to the one at the manor. "Squire said to make you one like I made him. ‘Ee’s paid for it, Josiah and I had to make it in a hurry so it would be ready for Saturday." We got it inside and I made sure all the women saw it and knew what it was for. Carsons said it was a pity he never got to see his work in use. I said we could rectify that as Janey a widower of forty-two who so far had kept her nose fairly clean and apart from a few strokes of the strap I had not had cause to give her a good tanning. However, that morning she’d overslept and missed getting the table set for breakfast. Henrietta had covered for her but I arrived in time to see Janey slip from her room. I decided her bum would be the one to christen the new trestle.

Soon all the women were assembled in the punishment room and ordered Janey to undress. She was sobbing as she took her clothes off. Carsons eyes almost popped out at the sight especially when I asked him to fasten her to the frame to check everything was in order and he had close views of her tits and cunnie. Everyone could see his prick had reacted for his breeches bulged. He made a show of seeing her tits were properly placed either side of the Vee and her crotch was tight down.

Not wishing to use the new birches that were steeping ready for Saturday, I took the razor strop and laid it eight times across her fulsome bum. It caused a great deal of squealing but she had little choice but to take it. I was pleased how well the straps kept her firmly to the beam.’

"I can verify that alright," Margaret muttered.

‘When I released her ankles and body straps I offered her cunnie to Carsons. At first he seemed a bit shy at performing in front of the other women there but on my encouragement, he bodily lifted her and thrust in his cock. "It will be easier when you get the saddle," he told me. "We ordered it from Jackson’s the saddlers and they promised it before Saturday. It’ll lift her cunt up and give yer a better go at her holes." I took his place when he’d done and because both Martha and Alice had my seed overnight, it took me quite a while before I spurted.

"I’m surprised you don’t have all pregnant girls here," Carsons commented. I pointed out they all had to take the precaution of inserting vinegar pads into themselves each morning which seemed to work well enough although I am told it is not wholly reliable. Afterwards Carsons took me aside and asked me if he could take Janey as his wife. We discussed the matter and eventually agreed that he would make an oaken punishment bench to replace the table and a stout whipping frame as payment. He would receive Janey when the bench was delivered as part payment. He agreed to make the frame within the following two months and to install it in the room. Even if he worked full time he wouldn’t finish the bench until the following week so Janey would still be available for our Saturday sport. In fact it was the Thursday after that he delivered the bench and I informed Janey that she could leave and wed with Carsons. She expressed some surprise but agreed to the arrangement. Carsons was a hard working man and would take care of her. I wished I could be rid of old biddy Harrington as easily. No one wanted her and she didn’t earn much on Saturday’s.’

"Doesn’t sound as if Janey had much choice," muttered Margaret, "Probably though, she was better off with him than she was in this workhouse come whorehouse."

‘Before the first Saturday’s entertainment here, I called all the women together and reminded them bluntly what was expected of them. Those that were due for punishment would be given it in front of all the invited guests who would want to inspect them before and afterwards. Many would want to roger them. They were to allow all this and any other familiarities the men desired. It was to be the main source of income for the workhouse. I said, "You have enjoyed better food and warmer rooms since I arrived. If you wish to keep full bellies then you have to go some way towards paying for it. The money from the sewing and laundry you do hardly pays the food bill. I know some of you resent the discipline but I saw how your wayward tendencies worked when I arrived and I contend that the rod is the best way to do it. Of course you can leave at any time but I suppose you know where you are best off. Unless you can find a benefactor outside, then I don’t exaggerate when I say you will starve and die of cold in a short time. Some of you I know enjoy the things the men do with you. The others will just have to make it look as though you do.’

"Really was like a brothel. The women had to give their bodies for sex in order to live here and then get punished for any infraction of the rules." Margaret was again talking to herself. "I suppose not much has changed now. I’m here because I have nowhere to go. I get punished for minor infractions of the rules and have to have sex with the boss man. Yeah, nothing has changed."

‘Our first Saturday meeting proved very successful. A dozen men including the squire attended. Henrietta received half a dozen with the birch and was taken by four men afterwards. I wouldn’t be surprised if she finds a benefactor soon. Alice and Martha both performed well and entertained with their cunnies and mouths. Funds were over ten pounds better off at the end of the evening. I decided to treat the women to some extra meat during the week to encourage them further.

It must have been two weeks or so later when I heard an altercation coming from the kitchen. Alice was castigating Hilda Warboys for not cleaning the pans properly. Hilda took offence and rebuked Alice saying, "I shouldn’t have to take orders from a bit of a girl like you, just because you sleep in the master’s bed. I was housekeeper here and should by rights still be now and you should be the one scrubbing the pans. Do them yourself little whore bitch." I had come to rely on Alice a good deal. Yes, she did grace my bed most nights and perhaps that did help her get the cook’s job but also she was the only one who could check the accounts and bills that were sent in. She would also follow up any discrepancies and seek redress, so I was pleased when she kept her cool and told Mrs. Warboys to either clean the pans properly and to obey her instructions or she would personally add chalk marks to her name. "You can’t do that! You don’t have any authority. Only the master can put on chalk marks and he’s out."

"I am giving you three for disobedience, Hilda and there will be another three if those pans are not cleaned promptly."

"They’ll only be cleaned if you do them, tart." She turned to leave the kitchen and walked straight into me.

"Finish the pans Hilda Warboys," I said, "I will put eight marks against your name and after supper tonight you will find out whether or not Alice is cook and in charge of this household." Although I could tell she resented doing it, she did clean the pans and was fearful because I had heard at least part of the conversation.

After our evening meal I ordered Jack to take Hilda to the punishment room and to fasten her to the new bench. When everyone was assembled I took the new shortened version of the razor strop I’d had the saddler make and with due ceremony presented it to Alice. "Alice," I said, "It seems that some of our residents do not accept that you are the chief cook and housekeeper. May I therefore present you with this strop as a symbol of your authority here. You have my full authority to use it freely at any time for any minor infractions that occur. Any refusal to take your punishment will have any such punishment doubled, the extras being given by Jack if he is called to assist. In addition a similar number of strokes will be given with the birch or cane on Saturday. Further and in consultation with me, you are allowed to add chalk marks to the punishment board." Alice was clearly surprised at this and thanked me. I noticed she looked at Mrs. Warboys and by the glint in her eyes I knew she wanted to make sure that woman knew her place. Turning to the others I made sure they understood Alice was in charge of them. Most of them had accepted it long since from the way she ran the place but of course there were murmurs of discontent from Miss Harrington. "Alice you may now punish Hilda in any way you think appropriate considering the gravity of her misdemeanor.

"Thank you Sir," Alice replied, "Would you mind if I asked Jack to turn her the other way up? I would like her to see me when I use the strap." Of course I agreed. Nor did I demur when Alice removed her blouse and stood topless alongside the punishment bench.

"Hilda," she said, "Your bottom will be punished enough in two days time so I will spare that for now and treat your front. You will then know I am in charge of you and you will see as well as feel the strap descending on your body. The woman screamed and pleaded, knowing from previous punishments how much more painful it was on the front of her body. Again this reinforced my belief women could be more cruel than men. She started on the front of the thighs and worked her way to the tits until the woman was sobbing pitifully. I and then Jack, were asked if we wanted to take her afterwards. I declined as I wanted my cock in Alice but Jack laid on her, causing her further pain as he rogered her well.

Alice only uses the strap occasionally. Mostly she prefers to add chalk marks to the board to add to the Saturday entertainment, but once a week or so, I see or hear a maid bending over a chair or table to receive anything from six to twelve good whacks with the strap.’

"I wonder what it would be like to be summarily bent over a chair and have your skirts lifted by another woman, one much younger and to receive a strapping on the bare bum in front of others. I wonder if they wore knickers? There’s no mention of any underwear in the account so far. It is almost like the stories of schools in the olden times where the boy or girls was made to bend over teacher’s desk and receive the tawse or rule on the bare in front of the class." Margaret stretched and turned away from the computer for a minute or two to give her eyes a rest. Her mind wandered again to thoughts of being punished by a young girl. "Like that young upstart I worked under at Masons. Uppity little bitch. Bet she would have delighted in giving me a good whacking." She started typing again.

‘Only three were due for punishment that Saturday. Miss Harrington of course. She’d been two whole weeks without and had become complacent. She had three marks. Katherine also had three. She’s a good woman and perhaps I was a bit mean in giving her three but she hadn’t tasted the birch much since my arrival and Hilda Warboys. Not much of a line up for the entertainment. All three stood against the wall waiting and I could see with only one reasonably young woman I would have to do something to spice things up.

Miss Harrington was birched first. When I offered her holes to the assembled company, none wanted her. Even when I announced there would be no charge only old Henry Messenger came forward to poke her. There was more response when Katherine was strapped down. Fred Wallace paid to do the birching and afterwards three men gave her a good reaming, one in her bottom hole, which she still finds painful.

I left the major punishment till last. Sixteen strokes of the birch is more than was normally administered. Twelve was considered plenty. I stood and explained why she had to take so many. Making Hilda stand up straight in front of the crowd, I pointed out the marks across her front she had already received for her insubordination. Jeffrey, son of Lord Parham offered to pay to be allowed to do the birching but I refused his money. I saw squire scowl at me thinking I would offend the lad for no reason and his father is very influential in these parts. I went on, "As it is my young cook who was insulted by this old woman, I propose to break with tradition and allow her to administer the punishment." Alice was standing in a corner ready to service a man when I presented her with the birch. The gathering applauded and covered by the noise I whispered to her, "Remove your top and jiggle your tits. Put on a good show. Spread the birching." Alice did far better than I could have hoped.

Standing in front of the crowd she bowed low and those in the front could clearly see her titties and down her cleavage. "Gentlemen and Lady." I noticed the master of the orphanage had brought his wife along, which confirmed what I had heard that she liked to warm the bottoms of her charges well. "Gentlemen and Lady," Alice repeated, "Thank you for allowing me the honour of chastising this women in front of you all. This will be a strenuous and onerous task but one I will fulfill to the best of my ability. With your permission Gentlemen and Lady, I would like to give my arms more freedom to apply the instrument of correction by removing my blouse and upper garments. Please will you grant me that permission?" Of course there was a roar of approval. Alice replaced the birch in the pot, opened her blouse and slowly removed it. This was followed by her vest, which allowed her ample breasts to fall free. She stretched her arms and pretended she was working her muscles causing her tits to move delightfully much to the approval of the assembly.

Before taking up the rod again, Alice shocked everyone by undoing the straps that held the woman’s ankles. As she freed each ankle so she offered it to a young man to hold, one of whom was Jeffrey. They of course spread them a little so they had a good view of Hilda’s hairy slit. Seeing this, Alice smiled and said, "Is this what you wish to see boys?" With her fingers she parted the pubic hair and pulled her cunnie lips apart so the boys could see the pink interior. Hilda sobbed and blushed with embarrassment. Now she had the boys hold the ankles together at waist height as she brought the wet birch down across the back of Hilda’s calves. I could see Alice’s plan now. Strapped downwards as they were, the frame largely protected them from the birch. While the lads held the woman by the feet, Alice laid on three more strokes, starting at the back of the knees and ending at the crease where her bum joined her legs. "Do you wish to continue holding the woman, young Sirs?" Alice asked. Both lads were aroused and wanted to continue. With theatrical movements that caused her breasts to fall and flop seemingly in every direction, Alice swung the birch in wide arcs that brought the birch crashing noisily on to the victims arse and back. Some of the power was lost in the theatrics but it didn’t matter. Hilda screamed and hollered, promised to obey, promised anything if Alice would only cease. The audience loved it all.

Finally when Hilda’s back and arse were raw and there were only two strokes to go, Alice turned to the boys again. Undoing their breeches she took out their hard cocks. "You’ve been good young Sirs," she told them, "You’ve held on well and watched that scrawny cunnie and bumhole twitch a quiver and yet you never let go. Before we give you your reward and let you dip those lovely hard cocks in her holes would you like for me to tenderise them a little?" I guess they would have preferred Alice’s holes but both agreed to let her soften the old woman’s a bit. "Move apart then, Sirs," Alice commanded and when Hilda’s legs were wide spread she laid one hit on the opened cunnie and the inside of the left leg. The birch tips ran along the arse crease and caught her bum hole too. Hilda let out a horrendous scream but before it had died away it was renewed when Alice repeated the stroke, this time inside the right leg caught the brunt of the blow.

A huge round of applause greeted the application of the last stroke. Alice turned and bowed again. We could all see her teats were hard. Her body shone in the lamplight from the sweat of her exertions and I guess there wasn’t a cock that wasn’t hard at the sight. A most erotic evening. Before Lord Parham himself claimed her she turned to his son and his friend. "They should be nice and tender now, Gentlemen. Use them well." Both boys in their eagerness tried to enter at the same time, which caused a good deal of laughter.

I saw Martha, Henrietta and Katherine being led away by gentlemen so the evening was very worthwhile financially. Squire came and slapped my back congratulated me on a fine show. "I’d not thought of letting a young woman whip and old one," he remarked, "She made a very enjoyable and titillating show. Excellent. We shall remember this one for a long while."

Lord Parham spent the whole night with Alice but paid well for the privilege. With all the maids taken by guests I spent most of the night alone until about 4 a.m. Martha came to my bed. Her partner had to return to his home before dawn. Needless to say I availed myself of her body although it had been well used for most of the night.

Everyone rose late that Sabbath but I didn’t complain. Katherine helped Hilda make her painful way down stairs. I ordered them both back to their rooms and to ready themselves as I wished to inspect their wounds. Giving them ten minutes I went first to Hilda’s room and found her in bed with the blanket drawn up. I drew it down and Hilda shivered as the cool air hit her bare skin. The welts now showed livid red and blue. Although I was gentle with my touches, she winced especially when I opened her legs. The boys had fucked both her cunnie and arse and their seed was still there when I probed with my finger. I almost rammed my cock in too but the thought of Katherine in the next room held me back. I turned her on her back which again caused some discomfort but I wanted to see if the thrashing from the strap still showed. It did as blue blotches. I also noticed the mark from the trestle beam where she had writhed on it under the blows from the birch.

"Who is master of the house, Hilda Warboys?" I asked.

"You are Sir."

"And who have I designated head of the household, Hilda Warboys?"

"Alice, Sir."

"And are you going to take her orders in future, Hilda Warboys?"

"Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir."

"Good. I hope for your sake you do. I will send her up to put Gran. Mabel salve on your stripes. You are excused duties until the morning.

Having instructed Alice I went to Katherine. Her arse was nowhere near as bad as Hilda’s but was still sore. I asked how many men had taken her afterwards and was told, "Three while still on the beam and then Fred Wallace and his friend Donald spent a few hours with me afterwards and had me in both holes several times." I already knew who had taken her to bed as they had paid me, I just wanted to check. As with Hilda, sperm still remained in her holes. My prick was reluctant to rise after it attentions with Martha so I offered it to Katherine’s mouth and found she worked it so nicely I let it remain there until I loosed my load. Leaving it there for a few minutes I withdrew and said I would get Alice to put salve on her when she had finished with Hilda.

I looked in on Hilda again and saw Alice very gently massaging the salve into the sore places between her thighs. The woman’s back had already been done. Hilda wasn’t resisting or protesting. When I asked her to do Katherine afterwards she nodded and added, "And Miss Harrington?"

"If you wish."

Chapter 13. The old one sold

April 10th1831

‘It was the Wednesday after that event when Martha presented me with Henry Messenger’s calling card. When, as she had been taught, she asked his business here he’d stated it was Miss Harrington. Intrigued I asked her to show him into the drawing room. We had a glass of sherry and he again expressed his thanks for the previous Saturday evening. During our conversation I quietly moved to the door and suddenly opened it. Martha was at the keyhole. "Alice!" I yelled bring your strap in here at once. I bade Martha bend over the settee back and I flung her skirts over her head. Unfortunately she was wearing her jam rags but I removed them too to bare her bum.

"So you would listen on our private conversations Martha?" She apologised profusely but she knew nothing would stop her getting a strapping. I gave the strap to Henry and he applied half a dozen good slaps to her rear turning it rosy red. Martha only grimaced although I know the slaps hurt her. I dismissed her and told Alice that if anyone else was caught listening at the door, I would hold her responsible and give her arse a dozen as well the listener.

Henry enquired about taking Miss Harrington to his home as housekeeper or wife. "I’m not a rich man, like your other friends who attend these functions," he said, "And therefore I cannot afford the price of the younger more agreeable women but since my wife died two years back, I get lonely at nights and my cooking is not of the best."

"You know what she’s like," I pointed out not wishing him to bring her back afterwards, "She’s a crabby old bitch. You will have your work cut out to control her."

"I think I will enjoy punishing her. There is something you may not be aware of. These days I only get an erection first thing in the morning when I need to use the piss pot and when I witness a woman’s arse being striped. When I took her on Saturday, it was the first time I’d had a decent fuck for a while and her dry cunt seemed to grip my old prick. Now I am asking how much you would want for me to take her off you hands."

I would have given her away for free if he had only known but instead I said ten guineas. Henry demurred as I had expected and offered three guineas. So began a little bargaining session.

"Whack!" "Ooow!!"

"Get yourself over my table Mary." I heard Alice’s voice from outside the door and ordered the pair inside. Alice explained she had just caught Mary trying to listen at the door and was about to punish her like I had told her. "Everyone’s just dying to know what is going to happen to Miss Harrington," she added, "And some just can’t restrain their curiosity."

"So Mary, we don’t often have to punish you so this time I think we’ll have you stripped right off and then over the back of the settee." Mary was one of the younger ones and very quiet. She never spoke out of turn and always seemed to work willingly so I was surprised it was she who was at the door. Further questioning elicited that the little minx Martha had told her to do so. I made a mental note to chastise Martha further before I took her to bed that night.

"Mary, it’s time for you to become well and truly acquainted with Alice’s strap. Fearing she wouldn’t be able to hold herself down over the couch I sent for Jack. He stood in front of her, leaned over her back and wrapped his arms around her chest forcing her tits towards her head. Seeing this put Mary’s head in Jack crotch, Alice whispered to me suggesting I put Jack’s cock in Mary’s mouth to reduce the squealing. This would also give Jack some pleasure and I thought that if there were any bite marks, we would put her on the Saturday entertainment role. Of course she was no stranger to sucking cocks or being rogered but she’d never been punished while sucking before. "Mary," I said quietly, "You may bite Jack’s cock if you like." Jack looked at me with open mouth. "But," I went on, "For every tooth mark I will put two chalk marks against your name. Understand?" She nodded as best she could. "We’ll all give her six of the best. Would you like to start Henry?" Henry wanted to go last so I put Alice in first and she cracked six nice ones that spanned both cheeks. I guessed she was getting more practice than I had thought. No yell from Jack though. I laid on the next six and while Mary started to cry out, she must have kept he teeth under control. Henry did his bit and I noticed he’d got an erection so I offered Mary to him. He plunged in and kept up a good pace for a considerable time. At the other end I noticed Jack fucking her mouth and that he came long before Henry. When we examined Jack’s cock we could find no teeth marks which somewhat disappointed me but I wouldn’t go back on my word. Mary took her dress and fled when we allowed her too.

Henry and I resumed our bargaining and it ended when we agreed of five guineas subject to certain conditions one of which was that Miss Harrington had to try and co-operate and Henry had to do his best to control her. He said he didn’t have five guineas to hand and would have to sell something to pay for her and this would take a few days. "Pay one guinea now," I suggested, "And pay the balance a fortnight on Saturday. If you don’t pay then, you return the woman and lose the guinea. You will have a little over two weeks to bring her to your way of doing things and get the money. That should be long enough." I believed he was a miser and had the money stacked away and wouldn’t need to sell anything. He lived a frugal life so I heard.

We sent for Miss Harrington and informed her of the position. Henry told her bluntly that she would have to cook and clean for him and warm his bed and pointed out the consequences of any misbehaviour. We asked her if she would go willingly and after some debate she decided she would reluctantly. Since my arrival things had got so bad here she said she didn’t want to stay but the position offered wasn’t in her view, very much better. Perhaps the fact she again had three chalk marks against her name had something to do with her decision, perhaps she thought she could control Henry more than she could me. Either way she packed her few things and left.

When Henry turned up without her on the agreed Saturday, I was pleased not to have her back but was intrigued on how things were going. At first he brushed my question aside by saying "Fine, just fine," but later when we were have a quiet pipe together, he opened up and told me a little.

"We arrived at my home and almost immediately she tried to force her authority on me. I ordered her over the bed but she refused and stood defiantly in front of me, her hands on her hips. I went to a drawer and took out a coiled horsewhip and flicked it so it the coils wrapped around her stomach. Snatching it back pulled her off balance and she sprawled face down on the floor. I cracked the whip across her arse. Even though her skirt covered it, she yelled with the pain. I again ordered her to undress and lay on the bed and when she hesitated I striped her arse for a second time although it wasn’t till later I saw how severe these stripes were. She undressed and I tied her to the bedposts and took a good tawse to her and when she was sobbing and agreeing to serve me, I reamed her bottom. It was the first time for years that I had spurted twice in one day. I was most pleased I can tell you."

"Things improved after that?" I enquired.

"Yes, indeed. I left her tied for half an hour to think things over and then returned and told her which side of the bed she was to sleep. I gather she hadn’t slept alongside a man for near forty years and that was only for a few days. She must have had a sharp tongue even in her younger days for no man seemed to want her. After that I explained the kitchen arrangements and her other duties. She hobbled pretty badly from the whip stripes. The meal she cooked wasn’t any great shakes but it was better than I would have done so apart from telling her I expected an improvement I let it go.

In bed that first night, I knew I wouldn’t get hard till near dawn so I made her fondle my pego while I fingered her and her old tits. They even began to respond a little. As usual I awoke early but instead of climbing out and using the pot I pushed Lily, (did you know that was her name?) on her back and opened her legs. She cried out when the welts from the whip were pressed against the sheets and I climbed on top. She was very dry so I ordered her to suck my pego and put plenty of spit around it. I did the same with her cunnie, which seemed to arouse her a little. I then gave her another good fucking. Since then I have used her that way every morning and now find I have a liking for the taste of her cunnie and make her suck me at the same time as I do her. Her juices now begin to flow before I enter her. Surprising for a woman of her age, eh?"

"Have you needed to use the tawse of punish her since?"

"Three times, but not to any great extent. Enough to warm her bum and get me hard. I took her in the arse once as well and will do so again when I feel like it. Until you came, she had never had a cock there and it’s still very tight. She finds it painful but I tell her it is because we don’t do it often enough."

"What about her cooking?"

"That’s improved too but has increased my food bill. Perhaps though that is a small price to pay for the services I get."

"So on the whole you are pleased with your purchase?"

"Yes. Still some training to do but when she hesitates to perform I only have to finger the welts that still cross her arse from the whip and she knows I will use it again anytime, then she complies with my desires. Sometimes I think the old cow likes some of the things I do, like the cunt tonguing and sucking her tits. She almost offers them to me at times."

I wished him well and went to see how the preparations for the evening's entertainment were going elsewhere.

"I thought slavery ended in England by then," Margaret said to Jeremy over dinner that evening, "Yet it was still prevalent in an underhand way in this little village at that time."

Jeremy laughed and put his arm round her, "It’s still prevalent in an underhand way in the village now."

Margaret cuddled into him, "Yes, Jeremy, I guess that just about sums up my position here. I’m as much of a slave as she was. But I don’t mind too much," she added. "It alright when the master is in a good mood and treats her right."

Chapter 14. Breast competition

"What are these for?" Margaret knew she shouldn’t have asked but curiosity got the better of her. The Indian cane roll was open and she held and turned the larger object of her interest in her hand.

"Have a guess."

Margaret shook her head puzzled. The two slightly curved flattened wood bars about eighteen inches long were joined at one end by three stout chain links. At the other end a similar arrangement but the links were only connected to one bar. In the cane roll the two bars were held closely side by side by the links looped being through each other. She opened the links.

"It resembles a miniature old fashioned flail," Margaret announced, "Is it for flailing a person? It would seem to be a very brutal instrument for that. The links would surely tear out pieces of flesh." She held one bar and whip-like brought it cracking down on the bed covers. "Jesus! You’re not going to hit me with that, Jeremy are you?"

Smilingly Jeremy stated he wasn’t. "It’s not any form of whip. Try again." Margaret put the links together so the bars were closed. She had no idea. Picking up the slightly smaller one she opened and closed it too. It was the same type of thing.

"I give up. Whatever it is I guess you are going to hurt me with it."

"With both of the Margaret. They’re tit presses. The larger one for the base of the breasts and the smaller for the nipples. Did your father ever tie your tits?"

"Not until Jill moved in. She was into tying my tits up."

"Take your robe off and I’ll cuff your wrists and try out the tittie clamps. Yours should take them nicely. I had trouble with Meena’s because her’s weren’t really large enough."

"You don’t have to demonstrate them Jeremy, I can guess now what the do." But Margaret knew he wouldn’t be put off and in the back of her mind she did wonder what they would feel like. When he played with her tits she always became horny so perhaps these would too. Or would they just be too painful? Slipping her robe over the back of a chair, Margaret offered her wrists for the cuffs. They were new from a mail order company and more comfortable and quicker than rope binding. Jeremy sat her on the edge of the bed.

"Ready?" he asked as if she had any choice.

"Yes," she replied knowing too that her acceptance was only a formality.

Jeremy opened the device and, pushing it hard against her chest with one bar above and one below her tits, slowly closed the two together and fastened the free ends with the outer chain link. Although this compressed her tits a little and caused them to bulge, Margaret thought the pain wasn’t too bad. However, Jeremy having left her for a few minutes to acclimatise to the pressure, tightened both ends of the bar to the second link and then the first. Now the bar ends were almost touching each other and Margaret had to grimace to combat the pain. She could see and feel her breasts swell and become hard. Their colour changed from white to red and then to a purplish shade. Her nipples stood out strongly. It was too much of a temptation for Jeremy. He suckled the teats and massaged her tits before deciding to complete the tit pressing by putting the smaller bars over the two nipples and tightening the chain. The pain was too much for Margaret and this time she had to cry out. Again Jeremy left them alone for a while and a sort of numbness set in which Margaret could bear without too much discomfort provided she didn’t move.

Trying to breath quietly so as not to move the bars, Margaret watched as Jeremy went to the decorated cane roll and retrieved a very thin whippy cane only about fifteen inches long. "When a woman’s tits are firm and hard like yours are now, it is the ideal time to warm and stripe them with a thin cane," he casually remarked.

"Oh no!" Margaret cried, "These clamps are bad enough as it is without you whipping my breasts as well." She knew there was no chance she would change his mind but she had to try and her helpless pleading seemed to arouse her partner. Jeremy sat alongside her and put his left hand around her shoulders, almost in a lover’s embrace. But it was no show of affection this time. Her eyes caught the flick of his right hand and the blur of the little cane as it cut across the top of the tits. She cried at its impact. It might be small. It might be thin but it did hurt. A light line appeared across the purple flesh, which rapidly darkened. The next came upwards and caught the underside and thereafter despite her pleas lines of fire alternately criss-crossed both upper and lower surfaces of her mammeries. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks by the time the tit caning stopped.

"Let’s get you into bed now," Jeremy said.

"Aren’t you going to take these torture things off me first?" pleaded Margaret.

"Not for a bit. I haven’t quite finished warming them yet." Margaret railed at him but soon found herself sitting in bed with pillows propped behind her back.

Jeremy removed the nipple clamps. At first there was a little relief until the blood began to surge back into the tender teats and the pain was almost worse than it had been with the clamps on. "One disadvantage of having the nipple clamps on is that one cannot get at them with the cane. I’m going to rectify that now." Almost before she could protest the cane flicked painfully half a dozen times across both nipples. While Margaret cried and sobbed with the pain, Jeremy gently suckled them until she had calmed herself again.

"Is it over, Jeremy?" asked Margaret.

"Yes, the caning is over but I’m not releasing the tit clamp until I have told you a little story about them. It won’t hurt to leave them on a little longer, or at least it won’t damage you it they are left for a bit. You may even wish I leave them clamped when the pressure is released and the blood flows again." He crawled in bed alongside her and cuddled her to him.

"Going back to when I was in India, one of the senior officers in the Indian army invited me to a tit toughness test party. At least that’s how best he could translate it for me. "Bring Meena and the tit clamps Mendles sold you and the little cane." Most of the town now seemed to know of my dealings at Mendles shop and the episode with Meena when I first had her. By then I had been in the town about six months and had been to several parties where sex in one form or another was on the menu. I pointed out that Meena’s tits were not all that big and the clamps didn’t hold to well so I rarely used them. "Don’t worry," he said, "Hers won’t be the smallest and we have ways of keeping them on." Meena looked very worried when I told her of the party but I could not then find out what it was all about."

"I arrived at the house and found six men sitting around on chairs and six women sitting on the floor alongside them. From the introductions I learned five had brought their wives and one, surprisingly to me, had brought his daughter because his wife was visiting her mother. I recognised Irma with her husband. I’d brought along a bottle of Scotch from the army stores and the men had a glass of that. Marmid, the man who had brought his daughter, explained the rules to me because they considered him the best english speaker. "We will first exchange women so no one has his own wife or partner. We then clamp the tits and nipples of the woman we get. Each woman in turn has to come to her new man, put her hands behind her back and offer her chest for the clamps. When all the tits are clamped each woman has to offer them to receive two strokes across the top and two on the underside with the cane. You need to lay these on good and hard. The women can cry out but mustn’t try and protect their breasts with their hands. They then sit down until every woman has her first set of stripes then they come forward again and take another four. At the end of the third round when each will have twelve stripes, the nipple clamps are removed. Now when the tits are offered you lay on three strokes and these must all be within the browner aureole area including the nipples." This all sounded very painful for the women but very arousing for me."

"At any time after the application of the three strokes to the nipple area," the man went on, "The woman can refuse to take any more. It is though a matter of honour for them to take as many as possible. To encourage them to continue, the first woman to drop out will receive sixteen strokes of the full punishment cane across her backside and all her holes will be available to any and everyone. The second drop out will receive twelve, the third eight and the fourth four. The third and fourth to drop out can choose which men they wish to service them but not which hole they wish to use. The overall winner gets a gold bracelet and is allowed to choose any man or woman or none to service her is any way she chooses, second place gets the same option without the bracelet and the third place to choose a man to service her in the way she wants. Is that clear ladies and gentlemen? Captain?" I nodded my agreement and was eager to start.

"Captain," the man continued. I was getting frustrated listening to him. "Captain, normally we ask our guest to start but as you are new to this we respectfully ask you to delay until you have seen how the others do it. Now we will draw for the choice of woman. I wondered if I would get Irma but didn’t. A dice was rolled and it came to a four. All the women moved four places to the right. I ended up with Kajil, a woman about thirty with good-sized tits. Plenty of area there to take punishment. I fitted the tit clamps to her and unlike you she’d had them on many times and hardly murmured when I snugged the bars together. Like the others I waited until Kajil’s tits were full and swollen before adding the nipple clamps. Meena and the daughter with small tits had a strap from the clamps passed round their backs to keep it a close to the body as possible and fully expose the breast."

"It all sounds extremely cruel to me. Just another way you men have for making whores of us," Margaret commented.

"Maybe but some of the women enjoyed it afterwards. Now if I may continue without interruption or shall I tickle those titties of yours a bit more?" Jeremy frowned at his bed companion. He hated stopping once he’d started telling a tale. "We now sat in a semicircle around a small padded platform and our women knelt opposite us. The host, I can’t remember his name now, stood and his woman came forward, knelt on the platform and clasping her hands behind her back, thrust her tits out. Host swung his cane in a wide circle and brought it down hard on the offered breasts. The woman gave a small cry but held her place. His next blow swung upwards whipping both tits upwards. Again there was just a cry from her. When he repeated the strokes her eyes filled with tears. Turning to me the Marmid, said, "The object is to try and make the woman you are caning give up early. You then get the chance of caning her arse and give your wife or, in your case, housekeeper, a better chance of winning the bracelet." I didn’t really have much hope of that.

The young daughter was next and she sobbed and cried at the end of her four. Meena who was fifth in line cried out shrilly but kept her tits well out. Finally it was my turn. I had whipped Meena and others enough by then to know the wrist action to cause a painful stroke, but even so my woman hardly made a sound. By the end of the third round the daughter was screaming pitifully and pleading not to take any more. He father was angry at her show of weakness but I couldn’t understand what was being said. Kajil still hadn’t made much sound but she did grunt a bit when the nipple clamps were removed. After the three across the nipples the daughter screamed further and would have run from the room had not she been prevented. I actually felt sorry for her. She was too young to be introduced to this sort of punishment. Now she had to take the caning to her arse. Meena too was really too young but she hung in there and was fourth to drop out."

"Despite the lack of groans from Kajil, I felt the punishment I was inflicting was having its effect. She didn’t present her tits as well now. I saw Irma was still in. Then another wife dropped out and it was between Kajil and Irma. Her whipper’s wife went out early on so he had no real interest in winning the bracelet. I really wanted Irma to have it for all she had done for me when I arrived. With only two left there was little time between each session for the two women to recover after each round. I watched Irma receive three, two were on the aureole area and one on the nipples. Her whipper was getting careless. I laid on three crackers catching both nipples with every stroke. That did it. Kajil quit. Irma came over and claimed me for which I was very pleased. At her request I took her from the rear so my body didn’t touch her tits which were already very colourful. Then we sat and watched the caning of the early drop-outs. Again I felt sorry for the daughter. Irma told me her father would probably give her more when he got her home. He was so ashamed of her poor performance. A few weeks later Meena informed me the girl had run away from home."

There was a long silence as Jeremy lay back on his pillow at the finish of his tale. Margaret decided she could speak again. "Excuse me for interrupting Jeremy, but would you mind releasing me now? Before you drop off to sleep, please."

"Sorry Margaret I was miles and years away. Back when I was a young Captain." He slowly released the clamps and her wrists. She gently cupped the sore orbs as the blood flowed into them again causing a painful tingling sensation. Half an hour later the pain had eased enough for her to go to the bathroom and gently bathe them. Jeremy was asleep.

Chapter 15. Sara’s story

3:00. Margaret stared at the red figures of the bedside clock. She couldn’t sleep. Her tits were tender and she felt horny.

4:00. She decided to get up and make a cup of tea. Jeremy still gently snored. Pulling her robe around her and creeping downstairs into the warmth of the kitchen and thought about how those women must have felt the night after the competition. Jeremy hurt her but not badly, now as she waited for the kettle to boil she gently caressed her tits with one hand and fingered her clit with the other. Soon she climaxed and sat down to enjoy her tea. "I feel wide awake now," she said to herself, "Perhaps I’ll type in another page of the journal. I’ll just put the heater on in my room while I finish my tea, then the room should be warm enough for me to work without this robe rubbing my titties." The small room she now referred to as "My Room" had been one of the bedrooms but now contained her computer and various other items she’d collected during the month she’d been with Jeremy.

For a while she mused over the happenings of the last month and how her life had changed. There were still times when she was beaten but never with the severity she knew with her father and mainly it was for sexual stimulation unless she did something he disapproved of. Sex with him was different. Usually enjoyable, often very enjoyable. Again so different from life at home where she was just a vehicle for her father’s painful pleasure and for the final eight weeks before she was thrown out, of a his girlfriend too. "Yes," she said to herself, "Life is better now and I quite like being Jeremy’s ‘unmarried wife’. His ‘partner’. His ‘significant other’. Certainly better than being a whore for my father." She fired up the cypher programme and began typing.

April 15th 1831

‘During the following week I paid a visit to Jason and Gwendolyn Barker, master and mistress of the orphanage. They had requested my visit during the previous Saturday’s entertainment. From Martha and from their attendance at the Saturday gatherings, I knew their beliefs on the efficacy of discipline by the rod in keeping order in their institution were similar to my own. I also knew they both enjoyed bedding the more senior orphans.

Jason greeted me and took me to their parlour where Gwen ordered one of the girls to bring some cordial. After an amicable conversation I was given a tour of the orphanage. There were seventeen children living there at the moment, nine girls and eight boys ranging in age from four years to fourteen. Returning to the parlour where there was some privacy, Jason explained the position.

"Josiah as you know we are paid by the church charity to look after orphans until they are fourteen years old. By then they are considered old enough to go out to work or get married. The charity only allows us to keep children for a month or so after their fourteenth birthday. We now have three children who have reached that age. Two girls and a boy. The boy, Robert, and his sister Jane are twins and very close. They are both small in stature but good enough workers where physical strength in not required. Sara, the other girl is quite large for her age but is not the most intelligent."

"She’s a fun girl though," Gwen chipped in, "Lively in bed and willing to do most tasks set her that are within her capabilities but she may have to be shown them several times."

"Squire Pemberton often takes our grown up children, but this time he suggested you might like them," went on Jason. "He has more than enough for the time being." I wondered how much it would offend Squire if I refused or if I could think of any reason for refusing.’

"Fourteen year olds considered grown up and capable of working and getting married, How times have changed," Margaret muttered. "I don’t suppose they were even as fully developed physically as fourteen year olds are today either. Still maybe fourteen was considered old then. Seem to remember reading about Dickens and Shaftesbury and their work to stop boys of ten years old being used to sweep chimneys and in the coalmines. Think that was later in the century to this book as well. Can’t remember much of what old Mr. Johnson said about it in class all those years ago." She gave her colourful tits a little massage and turned back to her typing.

‘I pointed out to Jason that we were a workhouse for women and didn’t take in boys. "Yes, I know that Josiah but the problem is they are twins and when we have tried to separate them both seem to pine away and neither are of any use to anyone. Twice they’ve nearly died until we brought them together again. Even now they are both rather frail although Jane does service me quite well and Robert, although small, puts plenty of effort into satisfying Gwendolyn. And his sister," Jason added. I thought about it for a while. We’d lost three of the ladies now so we could do with some fresh blood at the workhouse and they would be popular at our Saturday entertainments so the girls would earn their keep. I was still reluctant to take the boy though.

"Couldn’t you use him as a gardener or errand boy or something?" Gwen asked.

"Or make him wear girls clothing and treat him as one? He’s small enough and Jane hasn’t much more in the tit department." Jason I knew was trying his best to convince me to take him off his hands and still do what he could for the pair by keeping them together. In the end I agreed to see all three young things. Sara I had no doubts about. She was plump and well endowed in the breast department and had a smiling face. She might be slow to learn but no doubt the strap and birch would encourage her learning and Jason had said he gave her a good strapping most weeks. The twins were small and looked much younger than their age. Both were thin and spindly and looked like they would break into tears at the slightest provocation. I knew some of my guests liked underage children so perhaps these would get some use even if they were older. It was therefore with some misgivings that I brought all three to the workhouse.

At our evening meal, which to them seemed luxurious although it was but a simple repast, I formally introduced the three newcomers. Alice had found a dress that suited Sara but nothing small enough for the twins without alteration. They had to remain in their threadbare orphanage clothes for the time being but Henrietta, who is our best seamstress, would start them making dresses for themselves in the morning. I gave the trio the usual lecture on what would be expected of them and what they would get if they didn’t do it well enough and how they would have to help earn their keep on Saturdays. All showed fear of Alice’s strap and the birch but didn’t show any emotion when it was explained what they would have to do to keep the guests happy.

Believing it would be a good introduction to our ways I decided to let everyone see and feel their bodies unclothed. Starting with Sara I removed her dress and undergarments. She blushed a little when I fingered her pert breasts and then her little cunnie and noticed how quickly she became wet. "Very nice," I told her, "You must warm my bed tonight. Now go and show yourself to the others." She seemed very willing to allow Jack and all the ladies to fondle her and I guessed she would be a very welcome addition to our menu for the guests.

The twins were a different matter. Both were very much alike in appearance. Jane’s chest was almost as flat as her brother’s with only the merest hint of a protuberance, and her cunnie was still bald but she held still when I inserted my finger in to its full depth. Robert’s little cock stood to attention when I touched it. Like his sister, he was hairless in that area. Gwen had said he had satisfied her with it but I wondered how he would get on with all the ladies here. I bent him over and pushed my finger in his bum hole. He winced a little but allowed me to do it without crying out. Afterwards I told them all that Robert was to be known as Roberta but that quickly got changed to Bobby, and was to be dressed and treated as if he was a girl. Because of the special relationship between the twins, the two would share one room.

Sara performed exceedingly well in bed that night. With Alice’s encouragement Sara took my prick in all three of her holes. Both her cunnie and arse were fairly tight but she thrust back willingly and gave me a good ride. Even when I removed my cock after shooting a load into her bowels, she willingly sucked me clean. Nor did she demure when Alice used her tongue to clean my sperm from her tender cunt. I asked her how long had Jason been fucking her.

"Some months now," she replied. "When my tits started to grow and my woman’s curse came Father and Mother, that’s Mr. and Mrs. Barker but we get to call them our parents although they are not really, well they came to me and said I now needed lessons in love making so I would know what a man would desire of me when I left there. That evening they took me to their bedroom and we all undressed. I half knew what to expect as I had talked with some other girls before they left and they used to tell what went on in the bedroom. I also often saw the cocks of the boys when we bathed or had the cane and knew how they became hard. Mother made me kneel while she showed me Father’s cock and balls and how rubbing and sucking made him really hard. It was much bigger than any I had seen before. Mother lay on the bed while Father explained her cunt and how to stimulate her clittie. I already knew about that and when he fingered mine I was already flowing with my juices. He told me why us women needed the liquid to lubricate them.

When he turned her over to show me her arse, I was surprised to see stripes across it although they were fading. When I asked if she had been naughty I was told the squire had laid them on to warm her bum before fucking her arse. "Many men like a woman to have a tender bottom before fucking her," Father said. "You’ll find that out soon." Father opened her bottom hole and put two fingers in for me to see that a cock as big as his would go in. Then he turned her tit up again and opened her legs wide and explained about fucking and showed me about the sponges and how to put them in. He fucked her cunnie and I had to watch close and then put it in her bum. When he came and pulled out he offered it to me to suck, which I did and I quite liked it and kept sucking until it hardened again. Mother laid me down on my back and said it was my turn. Father put it in me and I had my first fuck.

"You were underage at that time then. You were only thirteen?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir, but I was having my monthlies so I was ready. So Mother and Father said. Not like the twins. Jane only started a week ago. But she’d had it for a long while ‘cus they allowed Bobby to sleep with her."

"Were you only fucked by the mother and father?" I asked.

"No Sir. Parson he takes me down in the crypt sometimes for penance. He spanks me hard first and then does it. Some of the older boys come to my room at night but their cocks allus seem small after Father and Parson’s. And Greg’s." Greg was the gardener, a rather morose single man in his fifties. He was excellent at his work so Jason turned a blind eye to him taking a girl into his shed every lunchtime. "He’s hung like the Major’s horse," Sara informed me, "And it hurt at first but I liked it after a bit and allus went to him when I could. Some of the other older girls thought him dirty and he was a bit big for them but they had to go anyhow. Sometimes I slipped away after tea and did it in his home. Naked on his bed. I liked it best that way."

I knew then that Sara was going to be well worth having here. I was not so sure about the twins but...’

"What are you doing up at this hour of the morning Margaret?" Jeremy yawned as he walked in the room. "Tits too tender to sleep?"

"Yes, a little. I was horny too. So I got up and made a cuppa and decided I wouldn’t be able to sleep so came in here."

"Shall I try and alleviate the horniness?" Jeremy asked showing his erect cock.

"Mmmm. Yes, you can try."

Chapter 16. The last weeks at home

"Hold back a bit Jeremy please. That’s Jill at the other end of the aisle and I don’t really want to face her yet." They were doing their weekly shopping in Tesco’s, the nearest supermarket.

"Don’t be afraid of her Margaret. Or more importantly, don’t show her you are afraid even if you are. Be proud of yourself.. Better still go up and ask how she is getting on. Take the ball game to her. Don’t let her see you hiding behind a stack of washing powder." Jeremy’s officer training was coming to the fore. "Head up girl. Be proud of yourself. You’re at least as good as she is. No you’re better. She has absolutely no control over you now and may even fear you, knowing that you’re free and could make her life hell. Come on. Head up, shoulders back. Smile."

"Is that an order Colonel?"

"It most certainly is. Obey it or get your arse tanned later. I only employ girls with a bit of spirit." He turned the trolley up the next aisle. "Remember, she may be more than a little worried at seeing you still around especially when you are with a man. She will worry as to how much I know about her. As expected they met Jill halfway along.

"Morning Jill. How are you? How’s Father?" Nervous as she was, Margaret kept her voice light and under control.

Jill gave her a look of pure hatred. "No better for you asking and you know well enough what your father is like and now you’re not there...." Jill pushed past them but a tear trickled down her face.

*****

"You never have said much about Jill and your relationship with her. Is now the time to get it off your chest?" Jeremy asked.

Margaret only half heard the question. As was often their habit during the dark evenings they sat together on the settee in front of the fire with a glass of wine. Effectively they were husband and wife in all except they had not a paper document to prove it. A hundred pounds was still paid into her bank account each week and now her original debt for clothing had been paid off, she could use the money to buy things she wanted or felt she needed without having to ask first. Theoretically she was self-employed but more and more as their feelings for each other grew, they ignored that distinction. In their minds she was no longer employed or contracted to him. They were part of each other. They ate together, worked together, slept together and fucked regularly. Perhaps more than if they had been married. Once a week or so, but not on any set day, they opened the cane roll and played with one of the instruments but the effect was to arouse rather than hurt and it was rare now for him to actually punish her.

"Calling Margaret Smith. Margaret Smith will you come in please?" Cupping his hands around his mouth mimicking a loud hailer, Jeremy brought his partner back from her musing.

"Sorry Jeremy, I was thinking about my life here and comparing it with life with father. How different it is now to what it was for most of my time on this earth. I suppose seeing Jill brought it back. She didn’t seem all that happy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Father is hurting her now I’m not there. Sorry Jeremy. What was your question?"

"Would you like to tell me about Jill and your relationship with her now? All the weeks you’ve been here, you’ve hardly mentioned her name and yet you were really very upset when you saw her this morning. And you’ve been miles away ever since we came home."

"Sorry Jeremy." Margaret paused for a while. "It’s difficult for me to talk about it. Not only was I beaten by her, I was made to do things. Lesbian things. Especially when father was out. She was the one who made me drink her pee more frequently than my father did. And then there was...." Margaret broke off. It was too disgusting to recall.

"When did your father’s relationship with her start?" Jeremy prompted.

"I think it must have been late last summer. Probably he met her in a pub and they went together a few times but I really never knew and they haven’t told me. One night late last September he didn’t come home at all one night, which frightened me as I was tied to the bedpost. Next morning when he came in I asked him where he had been and was told it was none of my business and given a caning before I was released. I could smell woman scent on him. He brought her home some time in October but that first time I was tied and gagged in my own room or at least what used to be my room. I hadn’t slept there since mother had died.

The second or third time she stayed the night I managed to knock over a box thinking if it was heard by Jill and she saw me she would release me and perhaps somehow temper father’s use of me. I was bitterly disappointed. She not only aided him in his beating of me, she held me so he could easily hit the more tender parts. Worse still, she wanted to keep my father’s cock for herself, so she brought this enormous strap on dildo to use on me. As it was always hard she would rape me with it for long periods until my arse or cunnie was so sore I could not bear to pee or poop." Margaret started sobbing at the memories.

"Get them off your chest Margaret," Jeremy urged gently. "It will help if you share the horrors and I will have heard worse as a soldier."

"You will hate me! You’ll send me away when you find out the filthy things I did."

"No, Margaret. I know you for what you are now. What happened in the past won’t alter that." He gave her a little hug.

"Well as I said there were a lot of lesbian things you I guess won’t find too extraordinary. She was always home before father and made me fetch her off with my mouth or fingers and if I didn’t do good enough job it was the strap-on or cane or the dildo or sometimes all three."

"Didn’t you enjoy any of the les activities, Margaret?"

"I suppose I did but with her they were always overlaid with punishment and pain or real humiliation. She’s a real horrible woman Jeremy. I guess being with father made her worse."

"What sort of humiliation?"

"Perhaps if I tell you of just one night. It was the worst by far but the others were not pleasant. Jill had been living in for about a month and she had a key to the door. Something I was never allowed. As usual I was alone and tied naked to the bed when she came in from work. She’s a supervisor at a chicken farm. Not much of a job but it put her in charge of a group of girls. Because of the chicken smell she always showers when she get in. Frequently I had to help wash her and on many occasions was given what she called a golden shower. Then I had to kneel open mouthed before her when I received it. I had got somewhat used to having to drink father's so it was more the fact she was his mistress that upset me about doing it with her.

This particular evening I turned away as she came into the bedroom and started to strip off her work clothes. My turning away upset her and she cracked the belt across my back half a dozen times. "Face me bitch," she ordered. As you saw, she is a well-built woman and the strap would have had me screaming had I not been gagged. I could tell she was in a bad mood and found out there had been a problem at work which she was blamed for. "You should by now know my body very intimately bitch! You’ve seen it, felt it and tasted it." She undressed and made be look closely at her pubic hair and opened her cunt lips and pushed them into my face and made me lick. After a short while she said, "Come on we’ll go into the shower and I’ll give you one, a nice yellow one. I haven’t been all day." My wrists were released and my ankles put on the hobble so I could walk with short steps. We had a shower that was over a bathtub and Jill made me kneel in the tub and again positioned her cunt so I could tongue it. After a few minutes of this she pulled my head tight into her groin and told me to drink everything that came. "I know you like to drink Henry’s piss and you’ve tasted mine but you let some of mine dribble out of your mouth. This time you are going to have the lot direct from the source. Any that slops over you can lick up from the bottom of the bath." She flipped the lever to shut the bath outlet. "And while you’re licking it up, I’ll be laying the strap into your cunt good and hard." Without further warning Jill let forth her stream. I drank as fast as I could but Jill didn’t give me any chance by slowing the flow or pausing. Some found its way into the bath and collected by the drain plug. "Get your head down and your arse up," Jill ordered. The smell seemed more intense and obnoxious to me in that position but Jill hadn’t finished humiliating me. Taking the strap she put it under my cunt. I expected her to strike me with it but she said, "Your turn. Piss bitch. I want this strap nice and wet for when I use it on you. Wet with you own piss."

It took a little while and a couple of blows with the strap before I could get myself to flow although I had a full bladder. My piss ran into a large pool at the drain too "You can’t mean I have to....?" I asked.

"Of course. You need a good drink. Get your mouth in it and start." She followed the instruction with a stinging slap with the piss-wet strap. Again and again she hit me as I tried to suck and lick the foul stuff. I was about half done when, to my horror, father came in.

"Henry, your daughter got a bit thirsty," laughed Jill.

"Well I can give her a drop more," father said and aimed his prick at my mouth. Although I felt sick at the thought of taking another load, I dutifully took his prick and swallowed it all. "Rub her tits in what’s left and then move them about with your strap Jill." Jill did so and then bent me painfully back over the edge of the tub. Father held my hands out of the way while Jill strapped my tits unmercifully until I was ready to pass out. For a few minutes they allowed me to recover. Jill sat on the loo and I heard her take a shit and then stand without wiping and climb into the bath. She turned to spray on so it ran over her front and then ordered me again to service her cunt. This time she presented it to me from the rear and I could see the brown stains around her hole." Again Margaret stopped.

"Are you sure you want to hear this Jeremy? It gets worse. Much, much worse."

"Whether I want to hear it or not is immaterial. You need to get it off your chest. I will listen and won’t criticise you for what you had to do. I will try and understand."

"It was father’s hand that pushed me into her crevice and ordered me to make her perfectly clean there. Fortunately a little of the spray had begun to run down her back and started to wash the stain away but I could still taste it and more so when I had to force my tongue inside the hole.

While Jill dried herself Father sat on the loo. "Yes daughter dear," he glowered at me, "You can do mine as well and I’ll make sure there is something there for you to taste." He stood and turned round so he faced the cistern. "Put her face where she can see it properly Jill. Jill made me kneel inches away from his arsehole. I saw it open and a turd emerge. It smelt vile. An inch or two out and he squeezed his muscles and broke it off, leaving a thick brown mark.

I begged them not to make me lick it. "Of course you are girl. But there’ll be more yet." Jill was delighted in my predicament. Another few inches of hot shit came out and a fart but I wasn’t allowed to move away. A third turd and the brown patch around the hole was growing. Worse. Because he was facing the wrong way for using the toilet, the turds didn’t fall into the water but stuck to the front part of the pan. Positioned as it was, my nose received a full dose of the smell as it rose. Once I managed to pull away but two swift slaps with the strap knocked me to the floor, the impact being taken on my already sore tits. I yelled and screamed but they laughed.

"Hold a minute," Jill said to father. She fastened my wrist cuffs. "So you don’t like the smell of your father’s shit bitch. Let’s see if you like the taste any better. Making father back his arse towards me until it was clear of the pan, she pulled my face right to his hole and ordered me to open my mouth. I kept yelling, "No! No! No! but Jill straddled my back and started pulling on my tortured tits. The pain was awful.

"You are going to do it bitch. One way or another. That next turd is going right down your throat. If it doesn’t I’ll spoon the whole lot from the pan down there as well. There was no hope. My lips felt the hole start to open. Jill pulled on my lower jaw and pressed the back of my head until my open mouth was in position. "Give it to her Henry! Give the bitch all you’ve got." I felt the turd slide along my tongue. The taste was revolting. It kept coming until it touched the back of my throat and broke off. Jill closed my mouth and held it closed. "Does it taste nice?" She was taking a great delight in it.

Father stood and opened my mouth and looked in. I was near being sick and wanted to gag it out. Jill had other ideas. "Shove it in with your prick Henry." He did and started fucking my mouth until I was forced to swallow. My head was swimming from the pain and the disgusting taste but it was not quite the end of the ordeal for I still had to use my tongue to clean his arse. Really that was nothing compared to what I had already done. However, it was only minutes before my head was back over the pan being violently sick.

I was sick many more times that night and was ill the next day with a fever although I didn’t get any sympathy from Jill or father. However, they must have decided that the risk of my becoming really ill was too great and I never had to do it again. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick. Jeremy, please never ask or force me to do that. Please don’t think any worse of me now for having told you."

"Margaret dear, that is something I find disgusting too. I will never ask you to do it. Drinking a little piss seems totally different to eating excrement. You have my word on it. And no, your story has changed nothing between us. It has only added to the feeling I have against your father and now his girlfriend. I just wish we could find a way of getting back at them without you having to drag the whole story out in public."

"Jeremy, I just want the whole affair forgotten, especially that incident. After that I decided I would leave home no matter what but in the end the decision was not mine. I knew I couldn’t leave immediately as I had no money or less than five pounds. I was also kept tied up for much of the time they were out. I was allowed out to go to the job centre and the D.H.S.S. to collect my benefits. Most of these were paid directly into the household bank account so I didn’t get them but one payment was in cash. Only £7.50p a week but I was able to keep it without telling father. I hid it in the garden shed where they never went. I was made to mow the apology for a lawn with an old push mower. As it turned out it was a good thing the money was outside otherwise I would have lost it. I only had nine weeks money hidden there so it didn’t last long." Margaret started sobbing at the memory and horror at what they made her do. Jeremy comforted her until she calmed and then took her to bed and made love to her gently.

Chapter 17. School days

It was two days later before Margaret sat at her keyboard again and the translated words appeared on the screen.

‘I knew then that Sara was going to be well worth having here. I was not so sure about the twins but as it turned out I needn’t have worried. It would seem they would go to great lengths and put up with hardships just to keep together.

The night following the introduction of my cock to Sara’s cunnie, I bade Jane and Roberta, who now everyone insisted on calling Bobby so I quickly fell into using it as well, come to my bed. I found out the little minx Martha had slept with them the previous night and enjoyed both the boy’s cock and the girl's lips on her cunnie. She had of course known them from the orphanage and it was like a reunion of friends.

Alice as usual was in my room too so the bed was a little crowded but the twins are quite small even for their age. Jane willingly opened her legs wide when asked and I was able to again examine her small almost hairless cunnie and her tiny bum hole. Bobby’s cock was similarly unclothed, only the merest of downy fluff around the base and his bum hole was very similar is size and colour to his sister’s. His prick was in proportion to his size, less than five inches long and quite thin. Alice asked him if the women who helped at the orphanage took it in their bums and he replied, "The older ones do ma’am. They say it’s not big enough to fill their cunnies. Some men like it there too Sir. Mr. Barker liked me to do it to him while he did Jane."

I replied, "I think I will try that too," and ordered Alice to get some dripping from the kitchen.

"Although it’s small he can keep it up for a long while," Jane butted in, "And he often has to service several girls and women one after the other."

"Have you had it up the bum before Sir?" the boy asked.

"Not since I was a pupil at St. Joseph’s. The monks turned a blind eye to what we did in the dorm beds at night unless they wanted a young bum to warm with a strap. We boys did it to each other quite often but the monk’s cock’s hurt." For a while I fell into a reminiscing mood while Jane gently fingered my cock.

"Go on tell us," Alice who had now returned with the fat, pleaded. "Go on tell us about your dirty boy doings." So I told them a little about my boyhood.

"When I was eleven I was sent to a boarding school for boys run by a very strict order of monks. Strict that is from a discipline point of view but dissolute in their ways. No boy got through a week without having been bent over a teacher’s desk and having a dose of the strap or cane on his bare arse in front of the rest. And once we’d received it we had to shuffle back to our desks with our short trousers around our ankles and sit bare bottomed on our hard wood form.

On my first afternoon there I was one of a group of five new boys who were caned one after the other for not having set our sums out in the way the monks wanted. I was third in line and had to watch as the first boy went to the desk. He was sobbing and crying as he lowered his shorts. After the second stroke he stood up and begged not to get any more. Friar James became annoyed and ordered two older boys to hold him down and then started his six again. "Take him to his place," ordered Friar James and one of the boys grabbed the lad’s cock and dragged him back to his place. I found out the lad had been in the care of his mother for many years and had not ever been caned before. The second lad held tight to the desk but when he stood at the end we noticed his prick was half-hard. Friar noticed it too and gave the end a little flick with his cane. The boy winced but didn’t cry any louder than he was already. Friar ordered him to stop snivelling which he more or less did.

My turn was next and I held that desk like my life depended on it. The Friar laid it on hard and I remember yelling but I did hold on and took just my six. I felt my prick stir but it didn’t start to harden so I shuffled to my seat and sat painfully down.

That night after lights out but with the moon streaming in the windows us five new boys were stripped naked by the other boys and held down while our pricks were rubbed and fingers were poked in our bums. They were still tender from the canings. I could see everyone had hard-ons. One boy was holding me while another ‘pulled my donkey’ until I spurted into his hand and he then rubbed it all into my prick and balls. This I found out later was to prevent the sticky stuff from soiling the blankets or floor which if spotted by the Friars, resulted in one or more boys being strapped or caned.

The boy who rubbed me pushed some of my stuff in my bum hole and then I was held down over the bed with my face pushed into the blankets. This was mainly to prevent me crying out as all this was carried out in near complete silence so as not to disturb the friars. Had my face not been held down, I probably would have yelled when two hands pulled my sore bum cheeks apart and I felt a boy’s prick force its way into my hole. That first time the pain seemed severe but afterwards I learned to take it easily even when I had to submit to a friar. When the first boy had shot into me a second took his place. This I found out was a traditional welcome for new boys and later I took part in these initiations. When the third boy was inside me, the lad that had been caned first that afternoon, his name I remember was Jones, managed to get a scream out. Immediately the door opened and Friar Edward came in with a lamp. All the boys except new boys leapt into their beds.

"Stay as you are," Friar Edward shouted. We had only just started to stand. "So you new lads have already started playing dirty games have you?" His finger touched my bottom. I kept quiet. He did the same to each boy and repeated the question. All remained quiet. "Well we’ll see if my strap will loosen a few tongues. From the folds of his garment he produced a leather strap and we were ordered to lie face down on our beds. I was the first to receive it this time. Three hard whacks. I cried out at each one. All five had the same treatment without saying anything so the friar came round again and we had a second three until he came to Jones who screamed out, "No Sir! No more. We were forced to do it! It was the other boys Sir!"

"So we have a blabbermouth here do we?" Friar Edward said quietly, "And I guess you were the one who screamed out. I heard you were the one who couldn’t take his punishment earlier without help so perhaps I will have to call on two of your friends again for assistance." Another boy and I were ordered to hold him still. I was at the foot of the bed holding Jones’ ankles to my waist while the other boy sat on his back. In the lamp light I had a very clear view of the boy’s striped arse and his cock and balls. The cane marks were very clear still but now overlaid with the broader stripes from the strap. I don’t suppose I will ever forget that night. The friar laid six more across his already very sore bum and then took him away. It was two days later that I found out Friar Edward had tied him over his bed and used his man size prick to ravish the poor lad’s bum twice more before making him fuck his own bum. Sometime before dawn the friar again raped the boy and then sucked him off. After that Friar Edward seemed to delight in taking that particular boy to his room at night."

"When did Friar Edward take you?" Alice asked.

"It was Friar James who was the first monk to take me," I told her, "About my fourth night. Each night the duty friar took a boy to his room and often one of the others would take a boy too. Those of us who remained would have our arses attended to by the other boys and on my second night I had gotten my prick up a boy’s arse and found the experience most enjoyable. After that it was turn and turn about until we’d satisfied our young lusts. It was obvious now the friars knew all about it. Anyway back to Friar James. He came into the dorm and ordered me to bend over the bed. I expected to be punished but instead of getting out his belt he pushed his finger in my hole. It was full of spunk from another boy.

"Still very tight I see, Winsberly," he said, "I think I will see what I can do about that." He took me to his room and took off his robe and for the first time I saw a man sized hard prick. I seemed enormous then. "Give it a good suck and get plenty of spit on it boy and it will go in easier." I began to realise then, Friar James was one of the kinder monks although that didn’t prevent him laying on the strap or cane good and hard and very frequently. I took his prick in my small mouth and laved it as best I could until he pulled it out and ordered me over the bed. "Do I need to tie you Winsberly," he asked and when I said no, he went on, "You know that if I have to stop and do it I won’t be pleased and will take the cane to your bottom? You still want to be left free?" I said I did and bent down. I’d only had four strokes of the strap that day so my arse was tender but not unduly painful.

Friar James put his cock to my hole and pushed but it didn’t enter. "Open up boy, like when you shit." I did and felt the head enter. It hurt far more that I expected but he carried on pushing despite my complaining that it hurt too much. However I kept myself on the bed knowing it would be worse for me if I stood up. Fortunately the sperm already inside my hole lubricated his prick and eventually I felt his balls slap against my bum. Then he reached around and gripped my cock and started fucking in earnest. Although it still hurt the pain became easier.

"Oh I do love a nice tight boy’s arse," he cried out and he pumped into me, "You’re not quite as tight as little Jones but still very nice." I wanted to keep in his good books so I started pushing back to meet each of his thrusts like some of the older boys liked me to do and it wasn’t long before he came. For a while he lay on top of me while his prick gradually softened and then withdrew. I was hard from him gripping my cock so he ordered me to fuck his arse, which I did. His hole was much larger than any of the boys so it went in easily and I rogered him as hard as I could. Like him, I reached around and took hold of his cock, and while ramming his bum I played with his weapon. It of course hardened again and immediately I had finished he decided to ram it into my bum again. Although it went in easier this time, my hole was still sore and I cannot say I enjoyed it.

Afterwards, I had to suck him clean and he did the same for me which I didn’t expect but felt nice. Only one or two of the friars would do that but all wanted you to clean them. Friar James took me into his bed that night and woke me early and forced his cock once more into my bum. Some of the boys wanted to see my arse the next morning when I got back to the dorm and teased me about having taken Friar James’ cock. They said his was the biggest of all the friars.

For some reason I wasn’t that popular as a bum boy for the friars. I rarely had to bed with them more than one time a week while Jones had to attend them most nights. He always came back sore and once in particular he had to have the morning off from school. I was detailed to check on him at mid morning break. He was laid on top of the bed without any trousers so I saw his bum had been caned and strapped and his hole was inflamed and sore. We had some patent cream to use and while I put that on him he told me what had happened that night.

Friar Edward had taken him to his room but before they started three of the other friars invited him to a get together in another room and seeing Jones was said to bring him along for some fun. At first they just sat him in a corner while they drank from a bottle of whiskey. When they’d had a few glasses they decided to have some sport with him. Friar Edward stripped him and warmed his arse with six from his cane. He was then bent over and made to suck Edward’s cock while the other three also gave him six but with a strap. Afterwards when Jones was reduced to a sobbing wreck, they examined the friar’s cock and found some small teeth marks. To pay for this Jones had his prick bitten by each of the friars until the boy passed out. A drop of whiskey revived him so all of them could fuck his bum, one after the other and they did it again next morning. However this time the boy’s screams were heard by the abbot who on seeing the boy’s condition, castigated the friars and gave the boy the morning off from lessons and told him to report to him immediately after lunch."

Alice said, "I’ve heard some of those religious orders are very strict and in a closed situation where there are no women, perhaps it is not surprising they had sex between themselves. You didn’t want to continue with boy fucking after you left that school?"

"No," I answered, "Once I fucked a girl, I didn’t really want to go back to men. I prefer the softness of a girl’s cunnie and playing with her tits."

"But you like putting your prick up their bums too," Alice persisted. I had to agree and perhaps that was a legacy from my school days.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" Jane asked.

"And let me do your bum?" added Bobby.

"While I spank your bum Bobby?" Alice put in.

I had to laugh at them all. Seeing I was fully hard from my reminiscing, Bobby just wet the end of my prick with his saliva while Alice tongued Jane’s slit and added some moisture there so my entry into her tight little cunnie was quite easy. Although it was small, it had been well used and opened up to grip my prick nicely. When I was in, I felt Alice putting some fat on my bum hole, which is something we rarely did at school. At best, the friars allowed us to put spit on their cocks. Bobby then pushed his way in. I was rather tight seeing I hadn’t had a prick up there for some years but I almost without thinking knew to relax my muscles and then his prick went right home and he began to time his in strokes to meet my coming out of his sister. I heard Alice slap his arse each time he came from me. I found it a most pleasant sensation and was glad I agreed to take the twins in. Jane was also correct about her brother’s ability to recover quickly and Alice was able to get her satisfaction shortly after.’

"I wonder if Jeremy had boy to boy sex when he was at school?" Margaret thought as she read through the latest part of the journal. "I would have thought homosexuality or probably they’d call it buggery then, being illegal would not have been so prolific as this journal says. Still many of the other things they did here were illegal too. And many of the things my father did to me are very illegal even now. Not much change there."

Chapter 18. Two boys on holiday

When later that evening and Jeremy had read the latest part of the account, she asked about his early sexual life. "Not really much to tell Margaret. Nothing much at school although it was a boys school, I wasn’t a boarder and although I knew some boys did it together, mostly they were shunned. I wanked on my own quite a bit and together with other boys in a woodland hideaway we had but that was only on a few occasions. However I did have one queer boy experience that your grotty mind will like to hear.

When I was fifteen I was invited to stay with a friend of my father’s during part of the school holiday. His son, Raymond, was a year older and had a small eighteen-foot sailing dinghy. I’d met him several times but didn’t know him well. We arranged to spend one week sailing the creeks and estuaries near his home and the plan was to sail in the open boat during the day and camp near the seawall at night. The first afternoon out I discovered he was a queer. We were gently sailing down a wide stretch of river. Not much wind. Warm July sun. He was steering with his legs splayed and I could see the warmth was making his cock grow under his bathing costume until the end peeked out. He didn’t bother to hide it. Indeed he made sure I could see. Mine started to harden too but I did my best to keep it out of sight. "You don’t have to be ashamed of it, Jeremy," he said, "Slip your cossy down and let me see it. Here’s mine." He not only slipped his down but also took it right off and hefted his prick. There were no other boats around to see us on that rather isolated stretch of the river. I still was very hesitant to show him mine but eventually I did and he came over and felt it and rubbed it a few times.

"Did you wank it in the bathroom this morning?" The question couldn’t have been put any more bluntly. I must have blushed and shook my head. "Good," he said, "There’ll be plenty of stuff in your balls for later. We sailed on for another couple of miles or so and then came to a little inlet where we could safely moor the boat. Apart from the plimsols on our feet we were naked. The inlet led to a long disused World War II concrete pillbox. At that time you could still get into them through a steel door at the back and peer out over the water through the rectangular gun openings. I went to put on my costume again before climbing the seawall but Ray said not to bother. There was no one around. The place was a small island but when in the storms of 1953, the seawalls were breached, The one family that lived there moved out. The breaches were never repaired and at high tide water still flowed on to the lower parts of the island itself. However, the area just inside the old seawalls was higher and never flooded.

We went inside the pillbox where it was cool and he grabbed my cock and pulled me to him. Putting my cock on top of his, he squeezed the two together and started wanking them both at the same time. It was a novel experience and not an unpleasant one. "Say when you’re ready to spurt," he said, "I want to make sure I get my cock and balls covered with it and I will do the same for you." I came first and he directed my cock to spray over his and then continued to wank his until his spunk cover mine. "Well suck each other clean later," he instructed me. In the warmth the stuff soon dried.

We kept naked like naturists while we pitched our tent and got the Primus stove going to cook our meal. At every conceivable opportunity, Ray felt my prick and arse. I have to admit I quite enjoyed it. We were on an island with access only from the river so we weren’t afraid of being seen. While we ate he asked if I’d had a cock up my arse before and I said no. "I hope you won’t mind trying it this week," he said, "It will make this trip so much nicer. It might hurt for the first few times but you quickly get used to it." I said I didn’t want to become a queer but he asked by way of reply, "If you haven’t tried it, how do you know?" He was bigger than I was so he got his way but I was by no means reluctant to try it. We went inside the tent and played with our cocks and then he leaned over and kissed me. I was quite shocked but he held me and kissed again. If I had any doubt before about his being a queer, they were certainly dispelled at that moment. "They cane you at your school?" he asked suddenly. I said they did but not too often. "I wish they did at mine," he went on, "I would love to see a boy get a proper caning on the bare arse."

"They don’t do it on the bare arse and not in front of the class," I laughed at him, "And I doubt once you felt the first stroke you wouldn’t want more."

"I bet I would," Ray replied, "I often get a belting on the bare bum from Dad before he...." He then stopped and I quickly worked out where Ray got his queer ideas. "I bet my arse can take more than yours," he added. One thing led to another and in the end we wagered that if his arse could take more strokes of the sail batten, I would allow him to fuck my arse whenever he wished and it was safe to do so. If I won I would punish his bum whenever I felt like it. We got the sail batten from the boat."

"What’s a sail batten?" Margaret interrupted.

"A slat of wood that goes in narrow pockets in a boat’s sail to stop the canvas from crinkling. We used it because we didn’t have a cane. The one we had was made from American rock elm, he told me, a tough flexible wood and was about three feet long and a couple of inches wide and quite thin. Rather like a stiff belt and it would hurt about as much. I lost toss and laid down flat down on the grass first. Ray started laying it on hard and I called enough after fourteen hits. In a way I didn’t see the sense of it. If I lost I would only have to experience getting my arse fucked, something one part of my mind wanted anyway but another part was repelled at the thought of being labelled a queer. My partner had more to lose. He really wanted to get his cock in me. I suppose if we had done it now we would have given each other six at a time but then we weren’t to know. I laid the batten solidly across his arse and was pleased to see how the broad stripes coloured up and there was a good ‘whack’ each time the batten landed. However much he groaned and yelled he stuck it out until he’d had fifteen. He’d won. We both rubbed our bottoms for a bit and then went inside the tent.

Our tent was of the old white canvas ridge type intended for a family and could sleep six although there were no partitions. The warming of our bums had given both of us erections. Once inside Ray again kissed me on the mouth. When he released me I was made to bend with my arse well up in the air while he knelt and examined and fingered my hole. "Oh lovely," he said, "Nice and tight. It will hurt a bit for the first few times but nothing like the batten did. By the end of the week you’ll be able to take my cock easily." He unwrapped our butter and spread a little around my hole and tried to work some in. I was still very unsure about all this but even then, as I had agreed, I was honour bound to allow him to do it. When his prick did start to push its way in, I dutifully tried to open myself but involuntarily my muscles clamped down. However Ray eventually gained a full entrance and started fucking my arse with some vigour. I was surprised then that my cock became more and more stimulated and leaked pre-cum before Ray had ejaculated his load into my bowels. Of course, at fifteen I didn’t know anything about my prostate and how a cock or finger in the rectum could stimulate it.

"Your turn now," he ordered and bent down for me. I noticed he winced when he pulled his bum cheeks apart to give me better access. "You won’t need any butter. I have to take a bigger cock than yours at..." He broke off realising he had once more said too much but I could guess whose cock he had. There was only one other man in his household, his father.

I left that be for the time being and pushed my cock into his hole and sure enough it went in quite easily and I very much enjoyed the sensation until I shot my load into him. "Lie down Jeremy," he said when I withdrew, "You can’t say you didn’t enjoy that." When I nodded agreement, he went on, "On this holiday, whenever you get a hard-on you must tell me and I will decide whether I want it in my bum or want to suck it. I will do the same for you. I guess we’ll get hard at least six times each day. Second thing, you are never to wash your cock. I will suck and lick it clean and you will do the same for me. Anyone breaking rules gets another dose of the sail batten or the end of a rope if the batten is in use. Agreed." I was young and foolish enough to agree. Ray then lay down alongside me and started sucking my sticky cock that had just come out of his hole. I demurred at doing the same to his sticky cock, knowing it had been inside my bowels. Ray demanded I take another six with the sail batten and forcibly held me down while he applied them. Afterwards he again presented me with his cock and this time I cleaned it.

Later that evening he took my bum again and I had his. My arse took it easier the second time although it was still tender from his previous attention. As we lay side by side in the aftermath of the sex I asked him about what his father did to him. At first he was reluctant to say anything but then gave me quite a detailed account.

When Ray was fourteen, his father caught him wanking in the bedroom. He has no mother and the maid had gone home so they were alone in the house. His father went up to Ray and gently took over the masturbation. "Tell me when you are about to come," his father had said, "We don’t want to mess the bed linen." When he was ready the father put his mouth over his son’s prick and sucked it off. Ray liked what was done to him and readily complied when his father suggested he should come to him anytime during the day or night when they were alone to relieve himself of an erection. That same night, his father had just gone to bed when Ray went in naked and showed his hard cock. His father slept without pyjamas too so when he got on top of the bed his hard cock was visible to the boy. "Keep rubbing yours Ray and it will grow as big as mine," his father said. They wanked and sucked each other and slept in the same bed. His father treated him kindly and Ray fucked his father’s arse for some time before the father reciprocated. By then the boy had introduced and number of smaller things into his hole in readiness for his father’s larger prick. At some point spanking was introduced into the play and sometimes in the holidays they each gave each other harder punishments with the strap. I knew Ray thought the world of his father.

As the holiday progressed I got more and more used to taking Ray’s cock and we did some pretty outlandish things. We slept head to tail between blankets for there weren’t sleeping bags then or at least not generally available and we had to have a prick in our mouths like a dummy. In the morning when we go up to pee one would lie in the grass and the other pissed over his cock and balls.

After we got back and I returned home, I went back to school and heard boys talking in disgusting terms about queers but I wondered if they really knew. Soon after I found a girlfriend and thereafter boy sex was largely forgotten.

So there you have it Margaret. Your lesbian experience didn’t turn out to be too enjoyable whereas mine did, unless I am remembering it through rose tinted glasses. I’m sure same sex, sex can be very enjoyable if the people like each other but like Josiah, I still much prefer a woman’s cunt to a man’s arse."

Chapter 19. Martha’s new life

May 29th 1831

‘It is six weeks since I last wrote in this journal and I have caught up with all the main events that has gone on since my arrival. Much has happened since I last penned any words here. Martha has left and is now married. I miss her. She was a fun thing in bed but I wish her well. She married a shipping trader in town who had been to one or two of our Saturday entertainments with the squire and taken Martha to bed and obviously liked her performance. Still it was with some surprise I received and read his calling card one Wednesday morning, Wm. Forsdyke, Shipping and forwarding agent.

"I’m now a widower," he told me after the usual preliminaries and need a woman to keep me company and to control my two daughters who since their mother died some nine months ago have become arrogant and profligate in their spending. I am at the Quay too much to keep the check on them I should and haven’t much time for the social events where I might find a wife. In any case, the eligible women there are seem mostly to be on the look out for a man solely for their money." I had to agree with him. "I’ve been to two events here and know you like to pass on the ladies in your keeping in return for a small monetary consideration to compensate you for your loss." I thought he would want a lady nearer his own age which I guessed about mid to late thirties so I was much taken aback when he enquired of Martha. I remembered he’d paid to spend a night with her but didn’t think he had any special feelings for her other than to stuff her cunnie. I also remembered she’d told me afterwards he’d liked his arse spanked hard and she had to do this before he rogered her.

"Martha will be a considerable loss to us," I pointed out, "She’s one of the younger ones and is a good worker and brings in a considerable sum at the Saturday events. Any monetary consideration would need to take care of that loss." I started my bargaining. Price was not the only thing I thought of. She was good in bed and I had become very fond of her and wanted her to find someone that would be kind to her. I wasn’t sure of William Forsdyke and his real motives. I guessed him to be a wealthy man who lived quite well but not ostentatiously. With the age difference and his having two daughters almost as old as Martha, I wondered if she wouldn’t just be a drudge to get his meals and satisfy his lust. "Would you mind if I asked one of the ladies to walk around the grounds with you for a little? I will consult with Martha and if she’s agreeable we can negotiate a price."

Martha wasn’t concerned about his age, "After all," she said cheekily, "I’m living here with you!" The daughters were another matter. Much depended on the authority she was given to chastise them. We discussed this and other related problems until Mr. Forsdyke returned and we could put our reservations to him. At the end of a long talking and bargaining session, we agreed Martha should go on loan for two weeks. During those two weeks she was to act as his wife and have the same authority. At the end of that time she would return and stay here either until someone more suitable came along or Mr. Forsdyke married her.

"How did you get on?" I asked when she returned.

"Very well Sir," she replied. "Unless he changes his mind, we will be married in three weeks time."

"You got on alright with him then?"

"Oh yes, once I found out how he liked it. When I spent the night with him here I just had to spank him before he got it up enough to poke me. At his place he had a special strap he called a teaser. A sort of belt with the end split into three fingers, each nearly an inch wide. It was quite soft and I guessed it was just to titillate to get an erection, indeed without being spanked on the arse he had difficulty in performing. He used it on me a few times and it stung but didn’t really hurt. Just warmed the arse nicely. Nothing akin to Alice’s strap or the birch.

When he was ready for bed or rogering, we’d undress and he would lie over the end of the bed and I'd lay the teaser smartly on his bum. I’d hold his prick in one hand and with the other, lay each stroke in quick succession so he didn’t really feel the pain before the next hit. He’d take about twenty hits before I would feel his prick stiffen in my hand and perhaps half a dozen more before it was hard enough to use. Then it was in and bang bang until he came. At first he didn’t do more than that but by the end of the first week I had persuaded him to slow down and enjoy it more and make me enjoy it too. His prick isn’t as big as yours Sir, but he can use it nicely when he wants."

"Any trouble with the daughters?" I asked.

"Oh yes there was at first but I got William to tell Sarah the cook and Pru the housekeeper, they were to help me if I needed to restrain one or other of the girls for punishment. Even after only a few hours there, I could see they were in sore need of some discipline. At dinner that first evening they were less than polite to me and even to their father they were rude and arrogant. "Why don’t you punish them?" I asked him in bed on our first night. "I don’t think it is right for a man to discipline his nearly grown up daughters in the way they need to be. I don’t expect you will have any such qualms and I will not chastise you if I come home one evening to find they cannot sit for that day or the next few. Remember I have seen the birchings Winsberly deals out at the Workhouse," he answered. " ‘Long as they are not marked for life, you can punish them hard. They need it to be sure."

Next morning after Will had given Sarah and Pru their instructions to help me and he’d had left for the quay, I went into their room and ordered them out of bed and to get themselves and their room cleaned up. "Sod off slut!" Rachael yelled at me in a most unladylike way. I ripped the bed covers off them and was not unsurprised to find each of the girl’s nightgowns were raised and each had their hands in the others quim. I decided to be like Alice and not raise my voice but to try and sound authoritative. "So, I’m the slut am I? It looks like there are two others as well. Now get up and clean yourselves and this room."

"You heard Rachael, Sod off. You’re only here for a few days to warm father's bed and then he’ll find someone better," Elizabeth shouted as she pulled the covers up again.

"I’ll be up again in five minutes and if you are not up and starting to get ready by then you are in trouble girls." Again I kept my voice down which they may have mistaken for weakness but it wasn’t for long. When I next entered the room I was followed discreetly by Sarah and Pru and Briggs the gardener handyman. Both Sarah and Pru are big women and not to be trifled with. Both had not only been on the sharp end of the girl’s tongues but had received punishment from William for alleged offences against them. Both were keen to see them get their just desserts. Briggs carried the staff punishment chair. This was a heavy solid oak chair with a low upright back, the top of which was hollowed downwards to fit a persons belly. On the all four legs were leather straps, which are fastened around the person's wrists and legs so once they were bent over the back and fastened, they couldn’t move. You might like to get one Sir. It was very convenient for general spanking with strap or cane or whatever, Sir."

"Sounds as if I might need one if you get to stay here Martha," I teased but she ignored it and went on.

"The second time I pulled their bed clothes right off on to the floor, Rachael swore at me like a docker, until she saw Sarah and Pru. "Well, well," I said, "Where do young ladies learn language like that? I would have thought the daughters of a gentleman would have a more refined choice of words. Maybe in a short while we’ll hear more words from your colourful dictionary." I asked Briggs to put the chair in the middle of the floor, which provoked another hail of abuse at a man being in their bedroom when all they had to cover them was their nightgowns. They also knew what the chair was for as they had caused most of the staff to be punished in it on many occasions. "Stand in the doorway Briggs," I ordered, "Don’t let either of them pass until I say so." From the folds of my dress I produced the cane I brought from downstairs and pointed it at Rachael. "Bend over the chair girl." Rachael was the older of the two, nearly sixteen and only two years younger than me. As I guessed she refused. I nodded to the two older women and they grabbed the girl and although she struggled and screamed, she was no match for them. As the got her to the chair I fastened her ankles and between us we removed the one piece of clothing she had on and strapped her wrists. Briggs eyes almost popped out at the sight of the young girl's tits as they hung down, Sir but that didn’t stop him from catching hold of Elizabeth when she tried to escape. I used a curtain tie cord to tie her wrists to a bedpost. She wouldn’t get away again. Both girls still tried to abuse me until I gagged them with scarves."

"They we not best pleased with you by then?" I laughed at Martha.

"No, that’s for sure. Given half a chance I would have been dead. Once more I did something Alice does here. I kept them waiting. I paced the room swinging the cane every now and again, allowing it to rest on Rachael’s bum for a few moments or on Elizabeth’s thighs. Then I made an Alice speech."

"Seems to me you learned a lot from the way Alice runs this place," I said.

"That’s true, Sir. I spoke slowly and clearly but quietly. "Girls," I said, "I may be here for just two weeks or it may be for the rest of my life. Whichever it is, you are going to be doing exactly as you are told. As far as you are concerned, while I am here I am your mother and I will treat you like children and if you err from what I believe is right, then your bums will feel the strap or like today, the cane. As you rightly pointed out, I have come from the Workhouse and I’m proud of the fact. I know what it is like to be strapped, caned and birched for my wrong doings. I know exactly how it feels when the cane first bites into the tender flesh of your bottom. The searing fire line that spreads and before it has gone far, is joined by another and another and yet more until you think you will pass out. But you don’t. The pain is there. A terrible pain. Yes, I know what you will go through and I have no doubt those watching will know too. As you again rightly said, I am here for two weeks to start with. Let me assure you, that by the end of that time, you will just be able to sit comfortably again. Unless that is, your misbehaviour warrants another application of the rod. Is that clear girls?" Neither of the girls moved so I repeated the question and swished the cane noisily through the air. Both girls nodded.

Moving Elizabeth to a position where she could see her sister’s bottom, I laid on a hard stroke. Rachael jerked but could not cry out. I waited and gave her another. Again I waited. "Rachael, I know it is worse being gagged during a caning. I’m going to remove yours now before I continue. You may cry and scream but it you start to abuse me with your tongue I will replace the scarf and give you extra strokes of the cane." I repeated what I said to make sure she understood. She cried out and then did a tremendous yell when I gave her the next. By the sixth, she was pleading for me to stop and promising to behave and do as I said but I went on and gave her a baker’s dozen. By then she was a sobbing, crying wreck. A dozen with the cane is bad enough for us but for a girl who had never been smacked before, it was pretty gruesome. She wouldn’t be crossing me again in a hurry. Sarah and Pru released her and laid her face down on the bed. We didn’t bother to tie her.

Elizabeth cringed in fear when we untied her hands and ordered her to the chair. She seemed too frightened to move and had to be dragged to the chair. In fairness I gave her the same treatment as her older sister but perhaps didn’t lay it on quite as hard. The result was the same. Two naked blubbering girls lay side by side on the bed. Briggs I noticed had a large protrusion in the front of his breeches but I wasn’t about to be disloyal to William on my first day. Before I left, I ordered the girls to remain exactly where they were, "If you move so much as an inch before I come back, I’ll repeat the caning across your front." I knew they believed I would.

Fortunately cook kept some of the patent Gran. Mabel cream you have Sir so after leaving the girls for a quarter of an hour I went back to them. They hadn’t moved. They stared pleading and renewed their sobbing and yelling. "Silence," I snapped. "You had your well deserved punishment for your behaviour to me and for some of the ill things you did before I arrived. The cane has wiped that slate clean but any wrong doings in the future will be dealt with in like manner. As the punishment is finished I do not wish to prolong the pain any more than necessary but unfortunately it will be a long while before it goes. This cream as I know from personal experience, will help to ease it and perhaps make it a little more bearable. I shall put it on this first time but I will be as gentle as I can. At lunchtime, you may put it on each other. However, by that time you will have washed and put on a light dress. You may help each other and you won’t get into trouble with me if you play a little with your cunnies and titties. I do know that seems to help. By afternoon teatime, I shall expect to see some order return to this room. You will not want to move about, but it will help if you do. You must and I repeat, must, clear this place up. By dinnertime you will dress properly for your father’s return. You will eat with us but I will ask for extra cushions on your chairs." Again I made doubly clear to them what they had to do. I heard them complaining loudly to each other when I closed the door.

When Sarah took in their lunch, I followed. They were still both on the bed but their crying had died down. I knew they wouldn’t want much to eat but insisted they had a bowl of soup. I told them they were free to move around the room and that Sarah or Pru would bring the cream when they collected the bowls. I reminded them of the clearing they had to do in the three hours that were left before tea. Again I heard them complaining when I left the room but it quietened when I opened the door again and ordered less noise.

Following Sarah when she took the tea tray in, I noticed the place was much tidier than earlier. There were still items of clothing not put away. "You have made a feeble start," I said to them in front of Sarah, "If you don’t want a taste of this strap you had better get this room clear and tidy when I return in one hour or..." I slapped my strap hard on a cushion.

"We’re telling father when he gets in," Elizabeth remarked, "He’ll throw you out."

"I wouldn’t count on it girls," I laughed. "I will certainly be there when you do." I think my coolness unnerved them a bit because they started sobbing again. Sarah and I left. Half an hour later Sarah told me when she collected the tray, they had started to clear more stuff away. I didn’t appear overly satisfied with their efforts but told them to dress ready for dinner and suggested light, loose dresses. "Be in the drawing room at six," I told them. Ten past six and they still hadn’t arrived down. I sent Harry the boot boy up. As instructed he knocked and walked straight in. Neither girl had anything much on which caused some consternation to the boy as well as the girls but he gave them my message. "Mistress Martha says for you to be down in five minutes. You are late already. If you are not down by then she is coming up to encourage you." From downstairs I heard them shouting for Harry to get out.

Six minutes later, I was about to go up with my strap when their door opened and they came down. They were dressed but hadn’t spent too much time on their hair and faces. Redness and moisture showed around their eyes but was overshadowed by the hate within the eyes themselves. "Ah there you are girls. Please wait in the drawing room while I have a look at your room." It was much tidier although I could have found fault had I wanted. "Well, that’s an improvement," I said when I returned to them. "It’s a nice evening, so shall we walk in the garden until your father arrives?"

"It hurts to walk," pleaded Rachael.

"It will ease after a few yards, and it will hurt to sit so we’ll walk." Slowly I took them into the garden. We met Briggs and I had a few words with him and suggested he might like to give us a guided tour. The girls blushed deep red when he looked at them. Briggs showed us round and named the flowers and plants which I found very interesting but the girls just followed more or less silently behind, Only giving little groans every now and again when their stumbling steps aggravated their bum muscles."

"I’ll wager you acted as though you already owned the place Martha," I suggested.

"You’re right Sir, I very much enjoyed playing mistress of the house and lording it over those two snooty little girls but I still wasn’t too sure how Mr. William would react when the girls levelled their complaints at him. I knew what he had said, but when faced with his own daughters having been caned he might change his mind. I needn’t have worried.

Elizabeth started the complaints as soon as William entered the dining room but he silenced her saying, "If you have anything to say about the way Martha has treated you, I will hear it after dinner is over. Now sit down quietly. I see she has thoughtfully provided extra padding for your seats so be grateful for that." The girls looked daggers at me and Rachael started to say something but William silenced her. Throughout dinner we talked quietly about the weather and what he had done that day. One of his ships had just arrived in, which is why he was a little later than usual. Then we had coffee. Real coffee Sir, not the stuff from dandelion roots. This came from a place called Africa. One of his ships brought it. It was lovely Sir."

I knew Martha’s conception of geography was limited to the town on one side and Bromton on the other, a distance of no more than twenty miles. London was some place outside this world. Likewise Africa was probably a town that could only be reached by ship. "You’re getting into society ways now Martha." I said to her, "We won’t be good enough for you soon."

"Oh, I shan’t forget my life here Sir," she replied and then continued her tale. "William took his brandy into the drawing room afterwards and we all followed. Rachael asked for the girls to talk to him alone but he refused saying, "I know Martha caned you this morning so you can say what you wish to in front of her. I know I can also verify the story from the staff who witnessed it. First show me what she did to you girls."

"You don’t mean you want to see our...?" stuttered Elizabeth.

"Yes, I want to see your bottoms. Only then can I judge how badly you were treated." After a pause when the two looked at each other, trying to gauge their sister's feelings, both girls turned and lifted the hem of their dresses. Neither wore bloomers to lessen the chafe on their bottoms. "What about the other side. Did you get your fronts caned too?" William asked. The girls were very shocked at this suggestion. "I know at the Workhouse the ladies get whipped front and back. Isn’t that so Martha?"

"Yes it is, Sir," I agreed, "Sometimes it is all for the same punishment. At others it is when we’ve earned another and our bottoms are still not recovered enough to take the whip there."

"Now daughters of mine, tell me why you were punished and I will judge if Martha has been unduly severe." They made it sound as though I had just entered the room and thrashed them for no reason. William bade me be quiet while they told their story and after gave me chance to tell mine. "So Martha we have my daughters saying a very different story to you. Two against one." For a moment I thought he was going to side with them but before I could utter a word he got up and rang the bell. Pru came in and he asked for her version, which was most like mine. "Two against two now. Do you wish to change your story girls?" Still they didn’t. William asked for Sarah and she again confirmed mine. "Do I have to send for Briggs, daughters?" They shook their heads. "So Martha is telling the truth?" The girls nodded, yes. "So, not only did you deserve the punishment, you lied to me about it. You, I guess, are annoyed I have invited her to come and live with me. Well for your information, she is staying. One of the reasons I asked her here was to take over from your mother and lie with me in bed. Another was to do what your mother should have done, and which I also seem to be unable to do, and that is to take some of the spoiled untouchable nature out of you. She chastised you for your behaviour to her. I am now ordering her to do it again, in any way she wishes, to punish you for lying to me. I will also come and inspect your room and see that you did what she asked of you and to see if it was done in a proper and satisfactorily manner."

"Both girls were horrified at being ordered to be punished again. I knew they expected to be caned over the stripes they already had but I had other ideas. We all trouped up to their room and outwardly it was fairly tidy. Certainly it was much better than it had been. William opened the top drawer of their chest and we saw all their clothing had been stuffed in any old how. To my surprise he emptied it on the floor and added to the pile with every drawer he opened. I could see the frustration of many months of tolerating their bad manners was all coming out. The girls saw it too and were very frightened and were again pleading for him to stop. Begging for forgiveness and promising to be good girls in future, they even said sorry for being nasty to me. I knew better than to let them off. Had I done so they would have gotten away with it in the future. William opened their wardrobes and while these were a little tidier, he still dumped everything on the pile. "In the morning, immediately after breakfast, you will sort this heap out. Some of the stuff you have long since grown out of, some you’ve never worn. Clear out at least half of this and ask Briggs for a potato sack to put it in. I will donate it to the Workhouse. I’m sure some of the women there would make better use of it, eh Martha?" I of course agreed.

"Rachael, Elizabeth, listen carefully both of you. And stop whining!" William shouted at them angrily. It appears to me you only half did what you were told to do so I am going to suggest to Martha that she has only half punished you. Martha, you will carry out the other half of the whipping immediately. Girls, by lunchtime tomorrow I want this heap reduced by half. One half will be put away tidily the other in the sack. Martha will inspect them. I am sure she will know what to do if you haven’t fulfilled my order properly. Now I will leave her to inflict such pain as is necessary for you to understand and fully comply with my wishes." With that he stalked out of the room shouting, "Get Briggs or the houseboy to help you if they resist Martha. Leave the door open so the staff can hear them squeal." I knew also he wanted to hear them."

"Sorry girls, you heard what your father said. You tried to cheat on me and it’s back-fired. Take your dresses off and lie on the bed." Both started begging and I thought Rachael was going to refuse so I started for the door as if to shout for assistance."

"Please Miss Martha," Elizabeth for once really looked contrite, "Please Miss, don’t hit us any more. Our bodies cannot stand it. We’ll die."

"I almost felt sorry for her but as I was told at the orphanage and here, it was for their good in the long run so I would carry out the whipping but not in the way they expected. "Undress," I ordered again and this time they did. I arranged them side by side on the bed but facing opposite ends, The crotch of each was level with the breasts of the other. Next I bound Rachael’s ankles to Elizabeth’s wrists. Likewise with the other pair of ankles and wrists. I fastened both sets of bindings to the bedposts. The pair lay stretched out, the pain in the bums forgotten as their young titties and bushy pubic triangles pointed to the ceiling. By now they guessed where the lash would fall except they feared it was to be the cane again and were crying and sobbing. I left them to see what other instruments for the punishment of servants were available. I returned with the leather reins from a horse. At some point the reins had broken and the fittings removed for use on the new one. The remaining strap was some ten feet long and about an inch wide, like the reins on most horse carriages Sir. It had been stored with the other punishment stuff ready to make a new light strap or something, Sarah said. I doubled the strap and, with Pru’s help, bound the loop for about a foot with twine to make a handle. For a few minutes I practiced swinging it on a low stool imagining it to be one of their bums. It landed with a resounding CRACK, partly from the impact and partly from the two parts slapping together. It’s something you might want to try Sir. Makes a lot of noise, hurts a lot but doesn’t mark too badly."

"I might want to try it on you, you little minx," I said but she just pouted.

As soon as I entered their bedroom, I cracked my new whip. Even as I went in they looked at me with fear and when they saw and heard the whip they shrieked like banshees from hell. I didn’t keep them waiting long but went straight to the bedside and lashed across Elizabeth’s breasts and Rachael’s crotch. With each stroke I worked along their bodies until the lash reached Rachael’s titties. I gave them a minute or so rest and then started again from the other side of the bed. Their screams could be heard throughout the house and probably into the next village. If it is one thing they did have in their favour, it was good lungs. As I started from the second side of the bed I noticed William looking in the door and when I finished I beckoned him in. "Do you think this is sufficient Sir?" I asked and he seemed to think it was. I also noticed the protrusion in his nightshirt and took him back to our bedroom to make use of his erection. Seeing his daughters whipped had aroused him, which was most unusual. He performed well and I came loudly and so did he."

"When he dozed off after his exertions, I went back to the girls without bothering to put anything on. They renewed their screaming until I ordered silence. Even then they continued sobbing. I got their flannels from the washstand and wet them. While I had my back to them, they must have seen the stripes across my back and bum from the last birching you gave me. They were pretty tender still and showed up quite blue and purple. That shocked them. "Will our bodies look like your back?" Elizabeth asked through her tears."

"Something like I guess," I replied which started them wailing again. "These marks are from the birch rod and are finer and deeper than those I have just given you. Your bottoms will be pretty much the same colour come the morning." After laying the cold wet cloths on them for a while, I untied them. "Girls, I know you like playing with each other’s bodies. It doesn’t worry me in the least that you do so. I’ve seen and done it myself with girls at the orphanage and workhouse. If it helps you get over the pain a little, do it. I’ll have Sarah or Pru bring you the cream and some larger wet towels so you can treat each other. I don’t expect you will sleep too well but if you disturb others, expect to pay the price for it. You understand me?" They did. Breakfast is at eight o’clock. I will ask Sarah to arrange a call for you at 7.30. You will put on a light dress and attend breakfast at the large table in the kitchen like the rest of us do when your father isn’t here. Afterwards I will see if your bodies need any further treatment with cream and then you can make a start on sorting your clothes and clearing this room."

"So it was I got control of them and while they hated me, they did what they were told. By the end of the fortnight we had a sort of truce. I didn’t whip them any more and condoned, even helped them with their girl to girl loving. However, I made really sure they knew I would have them caned of whipped again if it was necessary. Rachael did try it on with Briggs when he brought some produce into the kitchen.

"Do you have to come in here in your dirty clothes when ladies are present?" she said to him thinking I was in another room. Unfortunately I was just returning."

"Bend over the table Rachael," I ordered in my sharpest voice.

"I’m sorry Miss. I didn’t mean anything by it."

"Bend over or do I have to ask for help and get the cane Rachael?" That put the fear of God into her Sir. Her stripes were still very tender and sitting was still not comfortable. She bent over. "Your may lift her skirt Briggs and give her bottom a dozen hard smacks." He didn’t need any further telling. Rachael lifted up as the first spank found its mark but without being told, Pru and Sarah held her. Elizabeth watched alarmed. Both girls had started wearing bloomers again so Briggs didn’t see anything much but he told me afterwards how much he appreciated tanning the snotty girls arse."

"I think that’s about it Sir. Much of the daytime the Master was at the Quay but twice he stayed home all day when he didn’t have a ship in port and of course on Sundays we went to church. Several times in the first week I had to show him how the girl’s stripes were faring and afterwards, when I had warmed his bum a little, we fucked hard for a goodly while before blowing out the candle."

"Do you think he will come back for you Martha?"

"I think so, unless the girls turn him against me while I am here."

A week later, William Forsdyke came and expressed his intentions of marrying Martha and said he had arranged for the ceremony to be performed by the Reverend Jenkins on Saturday week in the local church. As I remarked I was both pleased and saddened to lose her but I did make sure I had my fill of her delightful cunnie before she finally left.

"Well, at least one or two of them seemed to have worked her way out of this workhouse," Margaret remarked as she and Jeremy read through the latest passage. "I wonder if I will ever do that?"

"There are very few people in this world rich enough to pay the price I would ask for you Margaret!" Jeremy’s reply pleased his companion. She leaned over and kissed him and they cuddled together until the spell was broken by, "Up you get now. Time to start dinner."

Chapter 20. The life of the Twins

July 3rd 1831

‘Once again some weeks have elapsed since I last found time to write this journal and in that time a little has changed. The workhouse is now looking smarter with most of the inside walls freshly lime washed and the wood given two coats of dark green [paint] which I prefer to the more sombre brown. The ladies have now gotten into my ways and there is less need for punishment. I pointed this out to Squire and he suggested we have the Saturday entertainments in turn at Grange Manor, Pembridge Hall, the home of Lord Parham and the Workhouse. Any girls for punishment are taken to the venue and the discipline applied by Higgins if at the Manor, Wallace at the Hall and myself at the Workhouse. Thus we all get to see a better variety of female flesh receiving the lash and I am not forced to add girls to the punishment list just to ensure enough are available for the entertainment. However that has reduced our income but usually I take some of the girls to the other places to assist with pleasing the guests and earn a pound or two that way.

Nonetheless I was surprised when his Lordship requested I bring the twins along the second time we met at the hall. I knew he had seen them when I gave them both four strokes of the birch on a Saturday but it was a married couple that took them to bed that night. Several men wanted Jane but I had insisted the pair performed together. That way I at least had some revenue from the boy. I had thought the couple came at the squire’s behest but in fact it was Lord Parham that invited them and it was only later I learned he was a construction engineer involved in the design and building of the new Town Hall in North Henley. He and the company he owned, have a number of other large public buildings to his credit, which have made him a wealthy man if not an aristocrat. He was still a tradesman at his roots. Down to earth and likable. Not pretentious.

I also took Henrietta along as I had given her three chalks marks for wrongly cutting and wasting some dressmaking material. It was a simple, understandable mistake but she’d only had the birch once since I arrived and I thought it time she had a reminder and it would make her a little more careful in future.

After Higgins had well warmed her bum and she’d been taken to a bedroom by a middle aged man, Lord Parham came to me and formally introduced Frederick Cooper and his wife Rose, the couple who had taken the twins at the Workhouse. We talked while the next act was being set up and then Frederick asked to have a private conversation with me concerning the twins, before the end of the evening. We sat and watched as two of his Lordships maids were fastened together tit to tit. Their hands were then made to grip a bar and were tied to it. This bar was raised aloft until their feet were clear of the floor and their bodies free to swing. Both were young, no more than sixteen at a guess. Lady Parham seemed to take a special interest in the pair and I later learned she was he cause of them being there. She had caught his Lordship rogering the pair. That in itself wasn’t the problem, she knew he had all the maids and frequently watched his performances. This time both girls knelt side by side, bums in the air while my Lord rammed his prick a few strokes in one and then a few strokes in the other until he shot his seed and collapsed on the bed.

Watching this had made M’lady horny so she ordered the girls to service her husband with their mouths until he was hard enough to do his marital duty to her. My Lord’s prick was not co-operative and lay exhausted between his legs. She ordered the whipping. Maids were not allowed to deprive her of being fucked by her husband's prick when she wanted it even though they’d had no choice in the matter.

Wallace and another man, each with a light, many-thonged whip, took positions either side of the two hanging girls. Lady Parham started the pair swinging by giving a hard right hand slap to the arse of one and a left-hand swipe to the other. "Warm them well men. I will say when to stop," she shouted as she stepped back to watch. As each girl swung towards them, Wallace and his companion lashed the white buttocks until they became fiery red and the girls were crying and begging loudly for the whipping to stop. Only when M’lady deemed them sore enough did she give the order. Two guests stepped forward and thrust their pricks into the hanging girls and rogered them with great gusto. After they’d completed their task, M’lady ordered the two whippers to take the girls in their bottom holes before releasing them. My twins, I noticed were cleaning the spent cocks of the two guests.

Shortly after, the whipping being the finale to the entertainment, some guests began taking girls away to various rooms, and others retired to the drawing room. Frederick and Rose took me into a corner and asked if they could have the loan of the twins for a while. "Loan? How long? Why?" I asked, somewhat baffled by the request. Frederick sent Rose to refill our tankards and when we were again nicely settled began the tale.

"We have two children Josiah, a boy David, just turned sixteen and a girl Rosie who we named after her mother and she’s a year younger than her brother. About six months ago, Bridget, their governess discovered them in bed together, fucking away like only young teenagers can. She naturally reported it to us and the three of us debated for a long while what to do. As you might guess from our attendance at these meetings, neither Rose or I are at all prudish nor is Bridget or her husband Frank who is one of our house staff. We regularly share each others services, if you get my meaning." I did. "We didn’t want to spoil the children’s fun but were not too keen on the incest side of it. You know all the stories of deformed and mentally ill babies. I gave the pair a severe lecture on what could happen and Rose gave Rosie advice on preventing pregnancy because we didn’t go so far as to ban them from doing it with each other. At this stage we thought it was more experimenting with sex and they would grow out of it. Bridget kindly took David to her bed several times but Rosie refused to have anything to do with Frank. I then invited Jeffrey Parham over for a weekend and gave one of the maids a shilling to spend the weekend with David. Both pairs seemed to enjoy their time together and I hoped the false love our children declared for each other was broken, but it seems it went the other way. Both had learned new things they wanted to try with each other. Then I heard about your twins and wondered how you dealt with the situation and if having them pair off with my children might have a beneficial effect on both. What think you Josiah?"

I pointed out the twins were a rather different case. They had slept in the same bed more or less since birth and separating them caused physical and mental problems. "I heard they’ve had some rather traumatic experiences," Rose said.

"It’s only with God’s help, or rather the help of two or three women they are actually alive at all," I pointed out and when Rose asked why, I gave them the story.

"Jason and Gwendolyn gave me the outline of the sad lives of the twins and Alice wormed more details from the twins themselves as they seemed reluctant to talk as freely with me. I have confirmed as much as I can from the women and the bailiff so I am pretty sure the information is as near correct as it can be.

Katie Smith, or at least that is what she called herself although no one believes it is her true name, came to Pennydelset about fifteen years ago. She was heavily pregnant and took up abode in the near derelict cottage that was just past the forge. She only used the two downstairs rooms because of the way the roof leaked. Katie liked her drink, in fact she drank far too much and spent most of her money in The Swan and other pubs. Gin was her favourite tipple but she could only afford the gut rotting cheapest. Even so there were not many nights that she didn’t fall into bed in a drunken stupor and this was probably the cause of the twins being small when she gave birth to them. For a few months, until the novelty wore thin, she looked after them reasonably well but still drank heavily so her breast milk wasn’t of the best. At that period she was able to get seasonal work on the farms but when the twins were three or four years old and her need for gin increased, she found it more profitable to go to the quayside at Gippeswick and offer her body to the sailors. The young children had to fend for themselves, sometimes for several days at a time. The baker’s wife, Hilda Todd found them one day, starving outside the back of the bakery looking for scraps of bread in the bin and gave them half of an unsold loaf and a meat pie that had been accidentally crushed and was unsaleable. The two shared the food and immediately devoured it. After that the twins went to the bakery regularly and Hilda tried to put things aside for them. Harry, her husband wasn’t too keen on feeding waifs but turned a blind eye to his wife doing so as long as he didn’t see it. When they grew a little, Hilda on Saturdays after the shop closed early, gave them a broom to clean the bake house and took them into the house for a proper meal afterwards. For a long while this was the only real meal they had each week. Harry was persuaded it was payment for the work they had done but wouldn’t allow it more than on Saturdays.

As the children grew so Katie came home less frequently, usually no more than once a week. Jane and Bobby soon learned to keep out of the way when their mother came home drunk. Usually she was affable when she first arrived from town and often gave them coppers to buy food. By the end of the day she’d had her fill in one or other of the inns and would look for the money to buy more drink. The children soon learned to hide it and themselves. One of the hiding places was a side shed to Farmer Redman’s barn. They used this until spotted by Rita Redman. She knew about the plight of the twins but didn’t wish to be seen interfering. Giving them a couple of horse blankets she showed them the hayloft where they might stay in greater comfort. "When you hear the bell for the workers to come in for breakfast, you come on in too. Don’t take any notice if Fred goes on and gripes a bit. He’ll bark but won’t bite. I’ve got him by his balls or at least my cooking’s got him by the guts," she laughed. Although the farm men laughed at the amount of food such a small pair could put away, they never made any attempt to molest them and none ever told Katie.

School was another problem. In a small village school like this, everyone noticed if a child was missing. Any child playing truant received a goodly dose of the strap on their return. Due to their lifestyle the twins were often ill and when their mother was around, had to hide away to escape her wrath. With no one to back up their assertions of illness or the reasons for being away, Bobby and Jane received more than their fair share of the strap. So much so that even when they were so ill and shouldn’t have been at school, they went in just to be sent home. The teacher did not want them spreading their noxiousness to the others. There was no money for medicines or the doctor so whatever they caught, lasted longer than for most pupils. None of this was helped by their cold, damp living conditions, the lack of warm food and poor physical condition.

When they were ten years old they almost lost their lives. It was November. Weather was cold and damp with an unusually high rainfall for the month. First Jane took sick with a cold and Bobby soon followed. This quickly turned to a fever and the pair just lay coughing in bed together, alternately shivering and sweating. Delirium set in. When they hadn’t turned up for school for three days, Teacher Hopkins went around to see where they were. Immediately he called out old doctor Sedgton. The kindly doctor took one look at the pair, ordered them to be wrapped in blankets and put in his carriage and drove them to the Nun’s Hospital at Tye Green. Even in their delirium they clasped each other so tightly they couldn’t be separated until the fever broke on the third day.

It was an elderly crotchety nun who decided it was sinful for a boy and a girl to sleep in the same bed and put them in beds alongside each other. As soon as she left they were in each other’s arms again. The move angered the old nun and she removed Jane to another room and locked her in. That night the screaming from Booby and Jane was so bad none of the other patients had any sleep and when Doctor Sedgton visited the next morning they complained to him. Bobby and Jane were still keeping up their wailing and calling out for each other and the doctor could see their condition was deteriorating. "Sister," he said to the old nun who was still adamant in keeping the two apart, "Were they fornicating when you saw them?"

"No, but they were in a lustful embrace. We cannot have this sort of thing in a Christian hospital."

"Sister, that so called sinful embrace was part of their healing process. The energy, a Christ’s life giving essence, was flowing from one to the other and they were getting better. This happens with twins. You can see for yourself how they are slowly dying again now they are not joined. If you are a true Christian, you will let Christ do his work in his way and not thwart it." It was obvious the old nun didn’t believe a word the doctor said but a younger one butted in.

"Why don’t we let the doctor have his way during the day when we can see what is happening and at night put them in separate beds across the room from each other. With the night candle they can see each other and know they are not far apart."

"No!" The old nun rejected the suggestion out of hand. "All they need is a hard spanking. That will kill their tantrums."

"Then they’ll die, Sister. I cannot have that on my conscience," the younger one stated and went off, returning with the Mother Superior. Much to the older one’s chagrin the Mother Superior allowed the suggestion. "These children are ten years old and yet they have the bodies smaller and less developed than most eight year olds. I cannot see any harm in allowing them to be together at this time. I do know from personal experience of twins, they have a mental bond other siblings do not have so for the time being I will allow them to hold each other during the daytime but I do suggest they are apart at night as Sister Anne suggests. Any news of their mother?" There wasn’t for two more days. Sister Anne brought Jane back to Bobby and after a very emotional reunion, she explained they could only have this arrangement if they kept quiet through the night so other patients who needed their rest could get it.

A bailiff was at Katie’s door soon after she arrived. He issued a summons to attend the Crown Court in Gippeswick two days thence on a charge of child neglect and that was the last anyone from the village saw of her. The bailiff traced her to the docks and reports suggested she went aboard a vessel sailing for the Americas. She may well still be alive if she didn’t fall drunkenly over the side before she got there. When the twins recovered sufficiently they were taken to the orphanage. There they became acquainted with the sexual activities of the older boys and girls and started to practice them between themselves. Gwen didn’t concern herself too much. They were quiet and didn’t disturb any of the others. In fact for some months it was difficult to get more than one word answers from them. As the girl didn’t complain about her brother’s attentions and she hadn’t started her monthlies so was unlikely to become pregnant, Jason and Gwendolyn didn’t even try to separate them. Indeed they thought it might make the pair more receptive when they were big enough for them to have fun with. When she thought Jane might start ovulating, she gave them both a stern lecture and some practical instruction to avoid any baby problems.

Perhaps now you can see why your sibling situation is so different to theirs and why I try and keep them together at all times," I concluded.

I could see tears in Rose’s eyes when she spoke, "Josiah, I can see what you mean. It’s a very sad story and our children have had a most comfortable life compared to them but I think we would still like to give it a try. What do you say, Fred?"

"Yes, perhaps we could borrow them for two weeks to start with and bring them back the Saturday after next when the entertainment is at the Squires and discus it further in the light of what happens. That should give us a reasonable amount of time to see what they are like and for them to see if our ways agree with them. I gather neither are averse to fornicating with others as long as they not separated. If they are so upset they do not wish to stay for the fortnight we’ll bring them to the Workhouse next Saturday. " So it was agreed.’

Margaret had tears in her eyes too as she read through the document.

Chapter 21. Back to school

Margaret returned to the keyboard. "Dinner’s on so the old man can’t complain. It’s stew so it will cook itself and I’ll only have to give it a stir every now and again. I do want to find out what happened. Poor kids. Lucky they didn’t die."

July 21st 1831

‘Frederick and Rose wanted to keep the twins when we met again but I wanted to hear from them first before deciding and as there was no spare time for me to quiz them during the entertainment. In any case I knew Alice would do a far better job at finding out what happened than I would. I suggested I keep them until we met at Lord Parham’s the next Saturday.

Rose was somewhat upset. "They’ve enjoyed themselves with our two and are beginning to learn a little more schooling with Bridget," she pleaded but her husband said I was only doing my job in looking after the twins' best interest.

"It will give the twins a chance to think about what they want to do. After what they have been through, I don’t want to force them into a situation they don’t like. I am sure Josiah will wish to take that into consideration too," Frederick went on.

We didn’t bother the twins with questions during the following day but I know the other ladies did ask. As usual few got more than a few words from them except for Sara and she spent most of the day in the church crypt ‘doing penance’. I decided to find out later what that involved. I know she came back with a sore arse.

When I went to the bedroom later that evening, Alice was naked in our bed with the twins, also unclothed, suckling contentedly on her breasts. Presently they lay quiet and Alice hugged the pair close to her body and said quietly, "Time now to tell Auntie Alice about your adventures with the Cooper’s." Jane looked briefly at me but Alice went on, "Don’t worry about big bear daddy. He won’t interfere and we really do need to know before we decide if you want to go back or stay here. I like cuddling you two little things but if I think you would rather be with Rosie and David, then I will do all I can to help you be with them." She gave them both another hug. Although I was impatient to hear what they got up to, I allowed Alice to find out at her own pace. She would wheedle the details from them almost without their knowing. The was silence for a minute or two and then Alice asked, "Was it a nice house?"

"Oh yes," Jane answered, "it was beautiful. Big room and huge mirrors. Rosie’s room had one that went right to the floor and you could see all of yourself. All at one go."

"I bet you looked at all the parts you don’t normally see," laughed Alice.

"Yes and so did Bobby and the others."

"It’s a big house, Alice," Bobby started talking, "Not as big as Lord Parham’s but ‘bout as big as the orphanage but much nicer. Paintings on the walls with gold frames. Soft chairs with fancy covers and lights and candles everywhere."

"And when we wanted anything we just rang a bell and a servant came and got it for us."

Alice let them carry on talking about the house and the things in it for a bit and then asked about the beds. "Did you have nice big beds?"

"Oooh yes," Jane giggled. "Soft feather mattresses and a canopy over the top. You could snuggle right down in the softness and get lost."

"And you could snuggle down with each other!" Alice was now getting to the details I wanted to know.

It was Jane that gave us these details. "David and Rosie have bedrooms with a door that connects them so we could easily walk from one room to the other. Rosie told me that was why they first started fucking each other. She saw David peeking at her when she undressed at night and demanded David undressed for her too. She’s a forceful girl and usually gets her way. David’s prick stuck out when he took his breeches off so she played with it and he played with her. "We knew what to do," Rosie said to me, "Because we’d seen Daddy and Mummy doing it with Bridget and Frank. They didn’t see us though." When Bridget caught them in bed together, no one really minded although they had to listen to the usual stuff about babies and things."

"The first night," Bobby piped up, "Rosie took me to her bed and David took Jane. They left the door wide open and said we were free to move from one room to the other but they wanted to try us out first. That seemed all right. Rosie is a big girl, like Sara. Big titties, almost as big as yours Alice but sort of harder. We were naked by then, having been looking in the big mirror at each other. I knew my cock was smaller than David’s but Rosie didn’t seem to mind or notice and we fucked twice before she dozed off. It was all so strange I couldn’t sleep. For a little while I heard Jane squealing as David did her and then it went quiet. I waited and then went to Jane and slept with her and David. David wasn’t there when we woke but we could hear him and Rosie were at it so we did the same and then found they had come in to watch."

"What was David like Jane?" Alice asked.

"Nice. Bigger prick than Bobby as he’s said, not as big as Daddy here or the other men that’ve had me. When Bridget came in to tell us to wash and get down for breakfast, we were all in David’s bed. She pulled the covers down and looked at us. Rosie pulled her knees up to her chin so Bridget could see her cunnie and Bridget kissed it, then she told me to do the same. When I did she kissed me and then pushed her tongue right inside. It felt nice. Bridget was nice when she wasn’t being a schoolteacher. She sucked Bobby and David’s cocks and then ordered us up."

"As it was a Sunday we had breakfast in the dining room with the Cooper’s," went on Bobby "And then on to church. Not a Roman Catholic one like ours and Sara’s but easier to understand. Not so much Latin. We went out for a walk in the afternoon and after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper took us to a room on own and asked us about our stay so far and wanted to know who we slept with the previous night. When we told them they asked if we enjoyed ourselves with their children and we said we did."

"Monday was a school day and that wasn’t so good. Both of us had the slipper," Jane said. "Bridget, who seemed so nice to us the day before, was very strict in the school room. Rosie had warned us to be careful. "Once we’re in the room, treat Miss Bridget like you would the strictest teacher you’ve ever had otherwise your bums will be sore," she said to us just before we entered the room. Miss Bridget, we had to call her miss in school, set the others an essay to write and then gave us an english book and told us to read a page and then answer the questions. Well you know how we don’t read very well and at the time we didn’t know why. Neither of us could understand it but we pretended to write words on the paper. Miss Bridget was very angry when she saw what we had done. "I gave you a simple little task," she said, "And you sit there and play around. I’ll show you what happens when you fool around in my classroom, I don’t have lazy children here." Bobby muttered something about us having left school now, which seemed to anger her more. She dragged us to the front and bent us both over her desk. I thought, "It’ll just be a few strokes with the slipper like Rosie said," but it was hell. Our bums were bared for the others to see and then she set to with fury and laid that slipper like about a hundred times until we were sobbing and yelling so bad they must have heard it through the whole house. The birching you gave us hurt but it was over quickly. The slippering just seemed to go on for ever. Anyways, when it was over, she sent me into one corner and Bobby to another but we just grabbed each other’s hands and ran. We went right through the house and out the back door, down the garden and into the fields beyond. We hid behind a hedge."

Bobby took up the story. "We just hid there for a while until we heard voices. One of the gardeners came. He’d seen us running and picked us both up. Our arses were now stiff and too sore to run so we were taken back into the house and to Miss Bridget. She was still angry and stripped our clothes off and had David and Rosie hold us back down over the table. Again she lectured us about our behaviour in class and how playing truant had only earned us more punishment. This time is was the strap. She gave us a dozen on our already tender bums. As you can guess, we were in a poor state by then and as soon as they released us we just held each other so tight, they couldn’t part us. "Take them to the attic room Rosie please," Bridget ordered, "Lock them in. They can go without their lunch today and just have bread for dinner."

Rosie whispered for us to come with her. "She’ll calm down quickly and may forgive you before dinner." We walked and climbed painfully up stairs to a small room near the top of the house. Inside was a small bed with a hard straw mattress and one blanket, a piss pot and not much else. Rosie was crying too as she gave us a hug and said she would do what she could to get us out of there but for now she was going to have to lock the door. "Why didn’t you do the questions?" she asked but we just held each other and didn’t answer her.

We lay face down on the bed trying to comfort each other and wishing we were back here. What had started off as a real nice time, was now horrible. We couldn’t understand how someone like Bridget could change from being nice and kind to us, to a wicked cruel woman. We kept asking each other that question once the first pain began to go away but couldn’t find an answer. Some time later there was a knock on the door, we heard it unlocked and Molly one of the young maids entered with a tray. She was young and friendly. "Sorry," she said to us, "I’m told to bring you one slice of bread and cheese and some water but I’ve put a piece of pie in too so eat it up and don’t leave any crumbs or you’ll get me in trouble too. I’ve also brought a pot of Gran Mabel’s which might help your bums if you’ll let me put it on. We’d already taken off our clothes to prevent them chafing and let the air get to our sore arses so we let her put it on and thanked her. She again said not to tell on her and left. Hours later she came back with another slice of bread and cheese. This time there was no pie. "Sorry, Bridget was watching when I did your plate so I daren’t add anything."

It was nearly dark when there was another knock on the door and Mrs. Cooper came in. She surprised us by lying between us and giving us a cuddle. "Come here you naughty twin chickens. You must think us a bad family to be with," she commented. Jane said we wanted to go back home but was told we couldn’t do that until our two weeks was up. "You could be very happy here," Mrs. Cooper said, "But you must try and do your best and not fool about in Bridget’s class. In there she’s in charge and you’re there to learn. She doesn’t tolerate laziness or any one trying to abuse her teaching, as you’ve found out." Mrs. Cooper went on like that for some time but we gave up trying to answer and lay silent. Finally she asked a direct question, "Now I want to know why you didn’t do the work she set."

"I said we couldn’t read it," Jane cut in, "And then Rose went on to say the book was the easiest one still in the house, intended for children two or three years younger than us and that David and Rosie got past using it when they were eight or nine. "Children of your age ought to be able to read and write better than you seem to. I’ll see what we can do about that in the morning. You’ll have to stay here tonight because that’s what Bridget ordered but I’ll get Mollie to bring in a warm beverage and she’ll put some cream on you."

"Seems as if Rose and Mollie liked you," Alice commented.

Bobby resumed the tale. "Bridget came in next morning and seemed back to her earlier friendly self. She took us to the kitchen and made us wash at the sink. In front of the staff we washed each other as normal. They all saw our colourful, sore bottoms. We only had the one dress we came with so Bridget found some of Rosie’s old ones and we put them on. We looked quite nice in them. Even though I am a boy, I have become used to the shift dresses you’ve made me wear, Rosie’s clothes made me look pretty. Mollie came and did our hair and made me look even more like a girl but she knew I wasn’t because she felt my prick a few times. Rosie and David came in and we all sat for breakfast. We weren’t offered a cushion or anything and Bridget acted like nothing had happened. Before going to the schoolroom, she took us to one side and told never to try and make a fool of her again and that Rose would be taking us to the local school that morning to see if she could borrow more suitable books for us.

At the school the teacher seemed friendly enough and knew Rose well. I learned the Coopers had given the school money at times so she was treated with great respect. He asked a girl, Violet, about our age to go to the store cupboard and see what books we could read. She was friendly and plump and wore little round spectacles. We started with the books for the very young and easily read those but when got to the bigger books we couldn’t. Violet was very patient and at last said, "You can’t see the words can you?" Neither of us could. She took off her glasses and we each tried them on and this made a great deal of difference although not as much as the ones we got later. We went back to Rose and the teacher without any books and she explained to the teacher why we couldn’t read. Next day we went into Gyppeswick with Mr. Cooper when he went to work and Rose came too and took us to an eye man who gave us these glasses."

Jane felt around in her dress pocket and brought out a little case with wire-framed glasses and showed Alice and then me. After that their life at the Coopers seemed to improve according to the story they told Alice and I guess I will have to let them go. By the end of their two weeks, both had slept away from each other for a whole night but had to cuddle each other first thing in the morning. Under Bridget’s teaching their reading and writing had much improved and at drawing they were much better than their peers. "Did you sleep with any others in the house?" I asked.

Jane answered. "We spent two nights in the Cooper’s bed and one with Bridget and Frank. Frank was quite rough and his fucking hurt. Even when he did it to Bridget but she seemed to like it that way. Bobby did Mollie in the pantry while I watched but most nights were spent with Davie and Rosie, frequently in the same bed and the boys made us try it in all sorts of ways."

"Did you get the slipper or the strap again?"

"Yes, but only twice and not that many. We saw Rosie and David get it too so we didn’t think Bridget was being so unfair to us." Turning to me, she asked, "Will you let us go back?" I had to say, ‘yes’, although I had become fond of the pair but I couldn’t see them really earning their keep in the Workhouse.

Chapter 22. Jill’s revenge

"Isn’t that Jill over there on the bench?" Jeremy asked as they pushed their trolley from the supermarket to the car.

"Yes. Keep going, Jeremy. I don’t want to speak with her again." Margaret looked steadfastly the other way and tried to keep pushing the shopping trolley even though Jeremy had stopped and was holding it back.

"She doesn’t look very happy and is fidgeting on the seat. Looks like she’s been beaten, Margaret. Perhaps he’s thrown her out too. Maybe she needs help."

"And maybe she got was she deserved!" Margaret’s voice was bitter. "Leave her alone Jeremy please."

"Margaret dear, remember where you would be if I hadn’t picked you up. Remember too, what I said last time. You are in control of her now. She may not need help but I’m going to ask. Look at her, not away. Let her know you are not afraid. You are the boss lady now."

Jill looked up as they approached. "Come to gloat over my being thrown out too? Well I wasn’t thrown out. I left of my own accord."

"And you’re sitting on a bench because you’ve no home to go to." Jeremy observed the two suitcases alongside her.

"Not exactly. I can go back but I don’t want to. Only waiting here till.... I’ll be okay. Need to wait until I can get access to my money again. Her bastard father chopped up my Building Society passbook and credit cards. Have got to wait until I can get them reinstated before I have any money." Despite her brave words tears started rolling down her cheeks.

"And friends from work cannot put you up?"

"No work. I gave it up for him. Now it’s all over. Now he... So what’s it to you anyway?" Jill tried to sound truculent but tears were flowing more freely down her face. "I may be able to see one of the girls I used to work with when she comes to do her shopping later."

"Bring your cases to the car, Jill. No arguments. You will stay with us for a few days. Until you sort yourself out." Margaret’s firm voice surprised both Jeremy and Jill. "You just have to know, you are no longer top dog. I’m in charge of the domestic arrangements and you will do what I say as far as helping is concerned. Understood?"

Jill looked at Jeremy. "Margaret is correct," he confirmed, "You can stay a few days but you’ll be under her charge and you will be expected to help with the household chores and fit in with our arrangements. I know some of what you did to her but I guarantee Margaret will do nothing to physically hurt you. Any thoughts of hurting her will bring immediate expulsion and likely a visit to a police cell. Harm one single hair of her head and I will be down on you like a ton of bricks."

"Perhaps I believe you but maybe it will be better for me to take my chance out here."

"And freeze at night. I know what it is like Jill. Think yourself lucky you haven’t spent a fortnight outside before being picked up. You and I both know what it will be like if you go back to him. Get your cases and follow us." Margaret turned and pushed the trolley towards the car without looking back to see if Jill followed. She did.

While Jill stowed her cases through the back door and Margaret stashed the groceries alongside, Jeremy cleared the back seat without commenting on her change of heart. Jill sat silently, listening to the small talk about the weather and the sleeping arrangements for their guest. "We’ve two rooms decorated now but the beds are dismantled. There are still those in other rooms," Margaret said, "We’ve either got to move a bed into a decorated room or leave it in a dingy one. What do you think Jeremy?"

In the end they decided for that night, Jill would have to sleep in a room already with a bed in. "You slept in a worse room your first night, and it will save us having to move beds once we’ve settled down after our meal. Jill can make her own bed if you find her the sheets and stuff. We’ll put the heater on low when we get back to air the room a bit."

"My God," Jill exclaimed when she saw the old workhouse, "Is this a home or a prison?"

"It’s our home," Margaret snapped, "And yours for a few days. I can assure you it’s much warmer than a park bench at this time of year less painful than at father’s so don’t knock it."

Margaret noted how stiffly Jill moved while they prepared the meal. "We’ve half an hour before dinner, you’d better have a quick bath to help ease the soreness." Margaret went in with her and then examined the welts on her bottom and breasts. "You certainly had a thrashing," she commented, "At least now you know what it feels like." She left Jill to have her bath and only returned later with towels and to say dinner was almost ready.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Jill enquired. They’d finished a meal where the meat had to be stretched a bit to make it go for three instead of two and were sitting in front of the fire with a glass of wine. "I would have thought you would be more interested in getting your own back by hurting me."

"That I thought of too but decided it wouldn’t achieve anything. Then when I saw your bruises and whip marks, I knew you’d had enough. I don’t mind a little pleasure pain, even a bit of controlled punishment," Margaret glanced across at Jeremy, "But since being here I know the difference between that and an out and out thrashing and the humiliation and disgusting things you and father gave me. All the times I was tied down and raped in every conceivable way, ways that would cause me to suffer the most. I decided I couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to anyone and I would best punish you by being nice. I’ve had enough of rapes and whippings which was one reason I got away from father and you."

"He won’t rape anyone ever again, Maggie..."

"Margaret!"

"He won’t rape anyone ever again, Margaret. Or at least not for many years." Jill’s eyes glazed and Jeremy knew instinctively she was hiding or wanted to tell something.

He prompted, "You’d better start at the beginning Jill because if you have done anything the police might need to know about, then I want to know too. If I’m and sheltering a criminal, then I need to cover my arse."

"Well he’s in hospital and I didn’t actually do it to him, but perhaps I could have done a little more to prevent it." Jill started.

"What’s the matter with him? Why’s he in hospital?" Margaret asked concerned although she didn’t understand why she should be. She had taken Jill’s reluctance to say anything about her father before as a reaction to her whipping, now Margaret wondered what had actually happened.

"He scalded himself. He’ll live but things will be extremely painful for a long while." Turning to Jeremy she said, "You said to start at the beginning, well perhaps you were the beginning. I told Henry about seeing the pair of you in Tesco’s and I think it was then that he finally realised you would not be coming back. He must have decided I was to take your place. I had to some extent already. He caned me and tied me down to bugger my arse but while I was still working and bringing money in, he couldn’t be too severe. I had to be able to go to work. Several times though, I was in so much pain, I couldn’t do my job properly and I got a warning from the boss. When I told him about you two, he went berserk. Unfortunately for me I was already undressed and was face down on the bed expecting a doggie style fuck. He grabbed and tied my wrists behind my back and then my ankles to the bedposts. "I haven’t been able to give a woman a good thrashing since my bitch left," he said to me, "So if she’s not likely to come back, you’ll have to take her place." I tried to plead with him that we needed my money to live on but I was silenced with a gag and then he proceeded to whip my arse and thighs until I actually passed out with the pain. He kept on saying, "Your fat arse is bigger than hers so it can take more pain." When I awoke he was raping my arse. He complained I had a poor pain threshold. That was a Friday and by the Monday I still couldn’t walk enough to work so I called in sick. On the following Thursday I did go in but made several more mistakes. The boss said he could not take any more of it and I was given a weeks notice."

"Perhaps now you have some idea of the pain you caused me," Margaret commented.

"Oh yes, I know that alright. It’s one thing to wield the whip, another to receive it. I used to laugh at your cries but now I know the other side of the coin. Worse was to come. I was kept tied most of the time after I left work and treated much like you were. He would come in, warm my arse with the cane, piss in my mouth and then fuck me in one hole or the other. Then for two nights in a row, he didn’t whip me at all and only fucked me once each day. I falsely thought he’d relented. How wrong I was. He was only preparing me to show off to three of his men he’d met in a pub and had boasted to about what he and they could do to me. They came in with two bottles of whiskey and Henry showed me off to them and while drinking they had fun mauling me about. In front of them, Henry then gave my arse a hard belting and then striped it with the cane. He stopped when he thought I might pass out and all four of them had me, two in the arse and two in my cunt. He told them I liked it done hard and urged them to bang their bodies against my sore bum each time. They kept on drinking for another hour just mauling me and making me suck their cocks until they decided my tits needed flogging. I was pushed up in a chair to the kitchen table and my tits laid on top. Henry started with the cane but the pain from sitting on my arse and the caning of my tits was enough to cause me to black out after only a few strokes. When I came to I was once again on a bed with one of the men shagging me. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while. In the background I could hear the drunken laughter. Sometime later it went quiet and I guess the men had left. Henry still seemed to be drinking. I needed to piss so managed to get to the bathroom. It was 4:08 a.m. Outside I could hear thunder and lightening beams flashed across the bathroom window. "Make me some coffee so I am sober enough to screw you again," Henry shouted. He undid my wrists and retied them in front of me. It was then the lights went out. Power cut. Did you have one here last night?"

Jeremy said, "No, but we had the storm."

"Well," Jill went on, "We managed to find the candles and I lit two of them as best I could with tied wrists. The electric kettle wouldn’t work but as he kept shouting for coffee, I put a saucepan of water on the gas stove and waited till the water boiled. I’d put the mug with the Nescafe in on the table near where he was drinking and took the pan of water over. I was having trouble tilting the pan with my wrists so Henry made to grab it and in doing so, the boiling water went all over his cock and balls and that whole area. He’d still not put any clothes on so he felt the full impact. He’s badly scalded and will no doubt be scarred."

"You didn’t by any chance deliberately pour the water over him," Margaret suggested, almost certain as to what the answer would be.

"No, much as I would have liked to had I thought of it, I didn’t but I didn’t do much to prevent him grabbing the pan either. It sort of just happened. He passed out and lay on the floor. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t phone. As you know he only has his mobile now so we can’t phone for help and using that tiny thing with hands tied in almost impossible. I had the idea of using the candle to burn through the rope and managed to do it without burning myself much. I looked for the mobile but didn’t find it in the dark. Henry was writhing on the floor yelling and screaming but I couldn’t get any sense out of him. The only thing to do was for me to dress and use the pay phone box down the road. I put on a thick dress that covered all my welts and a long coat. Henry was still crying out for help. I filled his glass with more whiskey and propped him up. The burn area looked awful because it was now half an hour since he did it. He drank the liqueur straight down without knowing although he coughed and spluttered a bit. It knocked him out again. The rain had eased but there was still no power. I went and phoned 999 and ten minutes later the ambulance took him away. I told the police what happened except I omitted that I was tied up and had been whipped."

"How did you explain his being naked?" asked Jeremy.

"Almost told the truth. We had sex earlier and he went and carried on drinking. The hospital confirmed his alcohol level was extremely high. When I left the hospital this morning, I decided now was the time to leave. There was almost no money in the house and as I said he’d destroyed my cards and passbook so I’d no ready money. The Building Society were helpful but it would take a day or two before they would issue a new book and it might be a while before I get a new credit card. When you came along I had almost decided to return to the house for the night but decided to wait to see if Jean, one of the girls from work, would come by. I was terrified to go back to that house. It now filled me with horror."

"Where is he now?" Margaret asked.

"Burns unit at Gyppeswick General."

Margaret phoned only to be given a standard message that he was stable. All three visited him the next day, both Jill and Margaret felt they had to for appearance sake, and then went to the house to collect some stuff for him. Things were still in much the same state as they were when Jill had left. The near empty whiskey bottle on the table, the glass on the floor and the general mess left after a debauched party. What Jeremy’s keen eyes noticed was the size of the saucepan. It was much larger than would have been needed to heat a mug full of water and there was a smaller one nearby! He kept his thoughts to himself.

A month later Henry was released. They visited him a few times in hospital and brought him home but neither Margaret nor Jill would stay in the house with him. By then she had moved in with a girl friend she had a lesbian relationship with before. Henry had a catheter and a bag because his penis was too badly burned to function without further operations and he could only walk with a frame. A nurse visited every day for the first two weeks. At one time, Jeremy and Margaret were present when she changed the dressing and caught a brief glimpse of his terribly scarred torso and shrivelled penis. The rod that had been the cause of so much pain would be useless for a long while. "Perhaps with the reason for his sadistic sex drive gone, he might become a more normal person," Margaret remarked.

Jill only stayed a week. Inwardly, there was always a strained relationship between her and Margaret but on the surface they tried to remain civil. Margaret treated Jill’s arse each day but did it with the matter-of-factness of a nurse and didn’t allow any sexual stimulation even when Jill deliberately opened her thighs to offer her cunt.

Chapter 23. Sara’s penance

August 15th 1831.

‘It doesn’t seem like over eight months since my arrival.

Sara didn’t turn up for lunch last Sunday. I wasn’t unduly worried as she was often a little late if the Priest in Charge gave her a penance to do for some perceived sin. I knew she had her arse spanked and had his cock in her afterwards. Sara and the twins were the only ones of the Roman Catholic faith but for some reason Father O'Mally never bothered the twins. This may have in part been because Sara was so much more physically developed and with her outgoing personally she confessed to many more sins and seemed to enjoy herself in the crypt. The twins on the other hand were quiet and never said anything and left immediately after the service had finished.

When lunch was over and things cleared away, Katherine asked Alice if she would allow her to look for Sara. She found the poor girl still three quarters of a mile from here holding her crotch and barely able to walk. Several other villagers were around her but Sara just sat crying and saying she’d done penance. One of the women, a Mrs. Denison, took her in to her house while Katherine ran back here and got Jack to take the horse and cart to fetch her.

I was in my study with Alice when Katherine knocked at the door. I wasn’t very happy at being disturbed as Alice and I were just beginning to fondle each other on the bed. Katherine burst in without waiting for an answer but before I could reprimand her she begged Alice to come and see Sara. "Please come Miss Alice. Them fathers have hurt her bad this time. You’d better come and see too Sir. We have her in her bedroom."

I was shocked by what I saw. Sara’s cunnie area, her bottom and inside her thighs were one raw looking blister. So were both titties. Alice immediately took charge. "Bring her to the kitchen and get a dozen pillows and bring them too," she ordered the women who stood by. Frieda and Violet she ordered into the garden to look for dock leaves. I guessed then, the cause of the blistering. Alice recognised nettle rash. Sara, in her anguish kept trying to scratch the blister but Alice soon bound her hands so it was impossible for to reach the affected areas.

They arranged the pillows on the kitchen table so that only Sara’s back rested on them. Her bottom was clear of the table by six inches or so. Katherine wanted to put cold water on the blisters but Alice forbade it because she said water made the pain worse and others agreed. As soon as the dock leaves arrived Alice had them chopped and pounded and poultices made which she gently laid on the terribly sore places. They seemed to have a little effect but we could see Sara was still in terrible agony. I’d given the girl a goodly dose of the birch on several occasions but had never seen her in such a state. It took Jack and two of the stronger ladies to hold her on the table. We sent out the women again to scour the lanes for more dock leaves and I allowed her to have a little opium water to ease the pain and to quieten her thrashing around and this did indeed work. Without even consulting me, Alice had her carried to my bed, which is much softer than the workhouse mattresses.

I had Jack drive Alice and Sara to Doctor Sedgton’s surgery next morning and he prescribed some lotion that seemed better than the dock leaves. Everywhere she’d been stung by the nettles was still horribly blistered and the dock leaf treatment had seemed ineffectual when the poison was over such a large area. I hoped to later wring the money for the doctor’s fee out of the sadistic priest. Apparently, according to Alice, the good doctor was most concerned as to how she came by such injury and she had to repeatedly assure him it wasn’t anything to do with the workhouse. She told him to ask Mrs. Denison, the woman who took Sara in and we believed it was some sort of penance given out by the church. Sara still stubbornly refused to talk or it may have been the opium water blotting out her mind. Doctor Sedgton suggested she not be given any more even though it might have a calming effect on the body, it was believed to have harmful effects on the mind.

It was the next evening before Sara was well enough to begin talking about what happened and even then the story wasn’t coherent. She took more broth and we left her tale till the morning. By then a lot of the blistering had gone down and the skin was covered in a measles-like rash. The whole area was painful to touch but the lotion now seemed to be working and removing some of the irritation. As usual it was Alice that gently prised the story from her while I sat by and listened. For this journal I will piece the story together for it was told with many outbursts of tears and with gaps we filled in with later questions.

"So you went to confessions?" Alice asked

"Yes, but not in the proper box but in the crypt. We often do this when Father O’Mally wants to spank or fuck me." Sara started her tale. "This time there were two others dressed in priest’s robes already down there. It seemed like they’d had a bit of a party because there were liqueur bottles and cakes and stuff around. Father just said they were visiting priests and had been on a trip where they hadn’t had a woman for a while. He introduced them as Father Ignatius and Father Dominic but I don’t think they were their real names as sometimes when I spoke they took a moment to remember to answer. At first I thought I was just going to get three cocks instead of one so wasn’t at all worried."

"We’re all going to hear your confession today Sara," Father O’Mally said, "Make sure you confess to everything and give us all the smallest details."

"Don’t you think it would help to cleanse her spirit if she removed those rags she is wearing first?" Father Dominic asked.

"I was a bit put out by him calling my nice Sunday dress, rags but at Father O’Mally’s behest I took my clothes off. They sat me on blankets on a stone tomb thing that is down there and spread my legs wide so when they sat on chairs in front of me they could see my cunnie about level with their faces. Father O’Mally had fucked me on that tomb many times so I guessed I was going to have my cunnie well filled and I was looking forward to it. Father Dominic made me put my hands behind my back and push my titties out so, he said, my sins could escape more freely from my body. I knew it was really for them to see my hard nips. As I said, at that time, I didn’t mind. I even suggested they too might wish to remove their robes so they might better take my sins into them and purify them. This they did. All three were fully hard and I wondered if they would wait for my confession before stuffing their cocks in me. They couldn’t."

"Brothers," Father Ignatius spoke, "Do you not think it would help if we put some of our cleansing fluids inside her body before she starts confessing?"

"I knew what that meant. They laid me down on the tomb with my legs dangling over one end."

"Guests first," Father O’Mally said and Father Dominic lifted my legs on his shoulders and started to ram me hard. His was quite a thick cock and I felt nice and full with it in me but he shot his seed too quick for me to cum. Father Ignatius was next. His was normal and he was able to keep going longer. I had my spasms about halfway through and again spasmed when Father O’Mally took me so I was quite well satisfied. They sat and filled their glasses and I was ordered to clean their cocks so I had a good look at the poles that had serviced me. Father Ignatius laughed and said, "Her mouth is much softer that yours Father Dom."

"And I wager her arse is tighter too, brother," Father Dominic replied.

"Time for you to confess now Sara," Father O’Mally said, "Get up on the tomb like you were."

"I did and made up a story of how I had met a group of six men in the woods and showed by body to them. First just my breasts and then everything until they were so worked up they forced themselves on to me, sucking my titties and putting their cocks in all my holes. Even though it was a made-up story, I kept adding the naughtiest details of what they did to me and how much I liked it. I hoped they would get worked up again too and repeat their earlier rogering of me.

"I think such behaviour deserves punishing by a severe penance," Father O’Mally stated and the others agreed with him and the three went to the far corner and talked amongst themselves for a while. Father O’Mally left and Father Ignatius gave me a glass of whiskey. It burned my throat but it felt nice and warm in my belly so I had another one, which made me a little light headed.

When Father O’Mally came back he brought with him a covered wicker basket. At the time I thought it was more food. How wrong I was.

I was again sat on the tomb and Father Ignatius, he seemed to be the senior one and the one who was most cruel, said "Sara you have sinned very badly. Even if the confession you have given us is a pack of lies, it shows the disgusting state of your mind. It is our opinion you need a severe penance to drive these sins out. We three holy fathers are here to do that for you. When you leave here you will have little thought for the crude sexual deviations you have described to us."

"I little knew then how true that was but I guessed I was in for a whipping. The two visiting priests took me and forcibly tied me upside down in a doorway with my legs wide apart. My hands just reached the floor so I could relieve some of the pressure from my ankles but my cunnie and titties were well on display. From upside down position I could see their cocks were again hard and still expected on a token beating before they had me again.

Father Ignatius removed the cloth from the basket and showed me the nettles. I nearly fainted as I have a fear of them any way."

"Sara, God has provided us with a plant that has a force within itself to drive out your sins in a very satisfactory way."

"I screamed and begged them not to do it but they only laughed. Father O’Mally had refilled their glasses and I knew the liqueur had already dulled their sensibilities and it showed by the grins on their faces."

"If you sin," Father Ignatius went on, "You must expect to be punished. As the servant of our Lord, I shall take great pleasure in carrying out his work." Each priest put on gloves and made thick birches from the long stemmed nettles. I was shown them and told, the priests wouldn’t even have to hit hard for these birches to be effective. I still begged and pleaded but they were past hearing. Father Dominic went the other side of the door and stood behind my bum, Father Ignatius in front and to one side so he could beat the front of my cunnie, thighs and stomach and Father O’Mally the other side to whip my titties. Each took it in turn to swing their bunch of nettles. Father Ignatius started and despite what he said about not have to hit hard, brought his bunch smartly right along my open cunnie crack. I know I screamed. It felt like a million bees had stung. Hardly had that registered and I felt another slash almost in the same place but catching more of my bottom. Father Dominic had struck from the other side. Then the underside of my titties, which was the top in my position, felt the terrible sting. So it went on, seemingly for ages until as you saw my whole bottom and stomach area and particularly my cunnie and titties were one big blister and I near lost all my senses. My eyes blurred. My sight lost its vision of swaying hard cocks and flaying arms. Next thing I remembered was being on the tomb again and more pain as a cock was forced between the swollen lips of my cunnie. I think all three had me again but I knew not much about it. I do remember a glass being held to my lips and the fiery liquid bringing me back to my painful life.

Some time later, I don’t know how long, I found myself trying to walk home. My dress and shoes had been put on and I must have walked a little way before the stupor I was in hit me and I felt in so much pain, I couldn’t go any further. I sort of remember being in someone’s house and trying to sit but couldn’t and then Jack lifting me into the cart and that was all until I was here and being looked after by you and the others."

Immediately I took Jack and myself to the priest’s home and challenged him as to his behaviour. At first he denied the allegations and suggested it was all lies made up by Sara but I pointed out she was seen coming from his church in a state such as she could not have made up anything, indeed she couldn’t speak. Mrs. Denison and other women would vouch for this. He blustered a bit and I threatened to inform his cardinal. "And then I shall have to put paid to your Saturday evening sessions, Josiah," he said. After much argument, I got compensation for the doctor’s fees and an assurance he wouldn’t bother Sara or any others in my care again.

I know some punishments I have given out have been harsh, but they have been for real offences like those given to Clara and Bell, but never have I inflicted so much pain for sexual pleasure and given in the name of God. I am resolved never to allow Sara to attend the Roman church again.’

"I can feel for that poor girl," Margaret muttered when she and Jeremy read through the latest part of the journal she had decoded. "Luckily we didn’t have many nettles in our garden. To save work we had all grass but once, when there had been a lot of rain and I hadn’t been able to mow it for a couple of weeks, one grew through from our neighbours. Father spotted it and put it inside my school knickers. It was only about a foot high but quite a bushy plant with several stems. He put gloves on and folded the plant a few times and when he'd tied my hands, lowered my knickers a little way and stuffed the plant inside, making sure it would cover my cunt and most of my bum. The pain was pretty awful when he pulled my knickers up tight but worse was to come because he put me over his knee and gave me a hard spanking which drove more of the stings into me. At one point some leaves must have protruded from the material and he hit them. The pain in his hand made him very angry so he pounded my arse more but this time with a glove on. I had to leave the nettles in my knickers and sit for an hour after which they were ineffective. They had done their work and my bottom and genitals were a mass of big, painful blisters."

"Did they make you horny?"

"No. As you know a little pain does stimulate me but the irritation from the nettles was nothing like that. I wanted to scratch and rub but the pain was too intense. Like Sara, even after the blisters had gone down, I had an itchy rash for some weeks. After that I made sure no nettles ever invaded our garden. And no! It is not something I want you to try on me."

"It can be stimulating Margaret, but only when used in very small doses. I’ll try it tonight and I promise you it will not be anything like what you had before and certainly not like Sara."

Chapter 24. Urtification

Margaret sat bound to the oak chair in the bedroom. Her breasts swelling nicely from being clamped with the tit clamps, her thighs tied obscenely wide apart, revealed her open cunt. Jeremy had still not told her exactly what he intended to do but she knew he’d been outside in the wilderness they still called a garden and had come back with a box of nettles although as part of his secrecy, she hadn’t seen how many were in it. While she had learned to trust him and so far he had not hurt her badly she always fearful and had doubts as to whether he might go further than he intended. He inflicted pain, but it was pain that aroused her and their fucking afterwards was always very intense. He also played mind games like when she was on the bar and he had her imagining she was to be flogged in front of an audience who raped her afterwards. His word pictures made the scene so vivid and yet there were only the two of them in the house.

"I think your nips are hard enough now for us to start your urtification, Margaret. Did you know that is what it is called?" Jeremy asked. "The rash it causes is urticaria after the Latin name of the nettle. I’m sure you wanted to know that at this time," he joked. "There are men and women who use nettles to stimulate or hurt themselves or their partners. I wonder if they are called ‘urticants’? Perhaps we’ll talk about them more after you have become one. Some go much further than I am going with you tonight unless I feel you are enjoying it."

"I know I won’t enjoy it Jeremy and I don’t really want you to try it but you have me tied helpless here and can do what you wish. While I trust you, I am also afraid. Nettles are not like the cane, it takes a bit for the full blisters to come although the pain is immediate but you won’t be able to see that."

"Yes Margaret. You are helpless and totally in my power. If I wish I could cover those swollen tits of yours with an urticaria rash that will take weeks to disappear. I can press the leaves into your cleavage and rub them into you lovely mammeries. I can massage them into your pubic mound, into your bum crack and into you bum hole. You could do nothing to prevent it. You could scream loudly but in this place no one would hear."

Jeremy donned his driving gloves and opened the box and Margaret could see he had picked the rosette of leaves from only the topmost shoots. There were no long stems. "Was he going to fill her bra with them? Her knickers? Was he going to poke them inside her?" Margaret started to worry and was about to start shouting when Jeremy put the gag into her mouth, which caused her even more concern. "I ought to trust him," she said to herself, "But I’m never very sure he won’t go too far."

"Close your eyes Margaret," Jeremy intoned, "Close them because you do not wish to see your surroundings and the things that are here to torture you. Imagine it, Margaret. You are in this stone crypt, tied to a chair. In front of you is the inquisitor. At the moment he is in priest’s garb. Around, somewhere in the blackness, others are watching. Looking at you, their victim. They want to see how you react to a sexual punishment. To see how you react to the vicious bite of the nettle leaf when it is touched on your sensitive spots. But you will not just be touched with it, the painful leaves will be forced tight to your body. The inquisitor blindfolds you." Jeremy tied a dark cloth over Margaret’s eyes and started to massage her already hard nipples standing out from her bloated purple breasts. His gloved hands squeezed and mauled them. "Yes, these tits are ready to take the pain now. Can you stand it Margaret?"

Taking one of the nettle rosettes, Jeremy pushed it gently against her left nipple. Margaret moved involuntarily as the first nettle bites registered the pain in her brain. Again the nettles were pushed against the nipple, this time harder and when the leaves surrounded the protruding nub, Jeremy gripped them tightly and held them fast to the sensitive flesh.

Had she been able Margaret would have screamed. The pain was sharp. Severe. Biting. The glass-like, poison filled needles on the surface of the plant leaves embedded themselves in her nipple. Even when Jeremy removed the leaves her nipple the pain remained and for a short while seemed to worsen. A few moments later he repeated the procedure on the other nipple with a fresh nettle rosette. Although she tried to shake her breasts to get some relief, it was totally ineffective. Her body was tied tight to the chair and the tit clamps allowed very little movement. "Has that not made your tits nice and sensitive Margaret?" Jeremy enquired. She shook her head, no. "Perhaps when I remove the clamps it will." Jeremy slipped the rings from the clamps and blood flooded back making the whole breast area tingle exacerbating the pain in her nips. Placing his mouth over each nipple in turn, her tormentor suckled them, which eased the pain slightly, but it soon returned when Jeremy turned his attentions to her clitoris.

It didn’t take Margaret long to guess he would do the same with that organ. It was already engorged and protruding. She felt the surrounding hood pushed back further and then the painful sting as the nettles were dragged over the tender bud. Margaret bucked as just one leaf was pressed firmly around her clit and held there for some seconds before being taken away and replaced by a mouth. A mouth that deliciously sucked and nibbled. The pain in her breasts appeared to proportionally diminish as the arousal in her cunt increased. Jeremy’s mouth continued it ministrations until Margaret climaxed. He released her and them made love on the bed and relaxed side by side in the afterglow of a satisfying fuck.

"How’s your tits now dear?"

"Sort of itchy. Feels like they need rubbing. They’re very tender but they’ve been worse after a whipping. My cunnie, oh, I’m beginning to talk like Josiah now, is the same. Needs some more attention. Taking the hint Jeremy suckled her clit for some time while she serviced his cock until it was hard enough to perform a second time.

"Jeremy? You must have done that before to other women. Have you?"

"Not often. Most women are appalled at the thought. Having a nettle touch them is akin to letting a spider crawl over their skin. Even the thought horrifies them and makes their flesh cringe, but I did meet a family that was into it. They lived up north and had a small holding which they all worked on part time, almost as a hobby because they were into organic foods and stuff. All had other jobs too which paid the bills and left them comfortably off. Paula, who I met first and her sister Jackie, were married to two brothers, David and Jake. Both families lived in a big farmhouse and shared each other's partners. Not just wife swapping either. The two sisters and two brothers were lesbian and homosexual. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they were all bisexual. They seemed to have a complicated timetable for who slept with whom so they all had a chance to indulge in everyone else.

I had just returned from India and met Paula at a party near Catterick where I was posted temporarily. We sat together and I regaled her with tales of my experiences and at her prompting told her of the sexual habits I’d found there. At the time I didn’t know she was even married. We met again the following week and had a much longer chat with her. I then learned of her relationship with the others and jumped at the chance of spending a long weekend at the farmhouse. That first weekend I had fairly normal sex with both her and Jackie and found out all four were into punishing each other and torturing themselves to a limited extent. Clothes pegs on tits and cocks and minor canings and such. Much like us. I gave both girls a spanking and watched the girls give the boys arses the belt. David and Jake showed me how hard they fucked each other in the arse afterwards when their arses were sore."

"Did they do it to you?" asked Margaret.

"Yes, but only once. As you know, I’m more into girls and don’t really get off too much on having cocks up my arse but I didn’t want to appear a spoilsport. It was on the Sunday, the five of us were playing at putting clothes pegs on each other. Us men, had a peg on each nipple and four along the shaft of our cocks, the girls also had a peg on each nipple and then three more around the aureoles. As they were about to put pegs on each other’s labia the subject of stinging nettles was mentioned and when I expressed an interest they said we would try in on my next visit.

When I arrived, they’d already collected the stinging nettles and had them in a jug of water. We took them to Paula’s bedroom and everyone undressed. "We think it braver if we apply the nettles to our own bodies," Paula said, "At least to those places we can get at." She gave a little laugh.

"Ladies first," David announced but when Jackie objected it still ended that way on the cut of cards. It was Jackie’s turn first. She wore light rubber gloves and plucked a rosette of the top leaves and, squeezing a breast with one hand to make the nipple stand right out, pushed the leaves hard on to the nipple. She grimaced but held the leaves tight, even moving them a little so they rubbed the aureole a bit. She counted aloud to twenty and then threw the leaves in the bin and showed me the blisters that were forming. I could see tears were forming in her eyes from the pain but she took another bunch of the leaves and repeated the performance with the other tit. When she threw the nettles away she vigorously rubbed both nipples.

"Have to wait a few minutes for the initial pain to die a little and the itch to start getting the tit throbbing nicely," Paula explained. Turning to Jackie she went on, "I’ll do my tits and then we’ll do each other’s clits." She did hers and asked me to rub them for her. I sucked them for a while too until Jackie laid on the bed ready for her clit torture. She lay on her back and held her legs by her ears so her cunt was fully displayed. I was asked to stimulate her clit and then Paula pushed and held the leaves on again for a count of twenty. Immediately she was released Jackie tried to rub it and cried out for a few minutes and then I sucked it for her until the pain had receded enough for her to get her own back on Paula.

Now it was the men’s turn. First we did our nipples like the girls. Then still wearing gloves we carefully took all the leaves from about a foot long length of stem. I was firmly told only to hold the end of the stem so as not to break off the poison glands lining all four of its squarish sides. The girls made sure our pricks were hard and outstanding and, for those of us who had foreskins, the covering was well back. We formed the stem into a loop that would slip over the prick head with plenty of room to spare. David demonstrated what to do. When the loop was in position we had to pull it so it fitted tightly and bound itself around the shaft just under the corona. This is the most sensitive part, and we had to hold it there for a count of twenty, just like the girls. The pain was pretty severe but I just managed to hold it for the count. As I’d had to wait for the demonstrations, the others had started before me and by now had their pricks buried in the girl’s cunts. I was still counting and afterwards had to content myself by rubbing my prick until Paula’s cunt became available. She was more than ready for me to tease her clit with my weapon and for quite a while afterwards we had to massage each other and have intercourse with the girls whenever we were hard enough. David did remark, they had tried going further and having a longer length of stem and binding the shaft with it but that just seemed too painful and didn’t promote any erection until a long while afterwards."

"You must let me try and loop your cock like that again, Jeremy," Margaret mused, "It would be nice to get my own back sometime."

Chapter 25. Dilly

Margaret’s stay at the Workhouse extended indefinitely. Her typing of the Journal was finished long ago. They’d printed in out and had two copies spiral bound for easy reading. Much of the later entries were rather repetitive in their accounts of who were punished on Saturdays but there were still some entries they liked to read over. Like this one.

‘September 29th 1831

A fortnight ago I had a visit from Wm. Forsdyke, the shipping and forwarding agent who is now married to Martha. He brought along a woman he’d found sleeping in one of his warehouses. She’d readily offered her body to him if he’d let her stay but she smelled too badly for him to even think of it. However, he saw that under the ragged clothes and grime she wasn’t too bad looking and looked strong. He ordered a couple of his stevedores to ‘scrub her down’ and gave them a few coppers to get some clothes from Eastons the second-hand clothes store on the quayside for her.’ Her name he found out was Dorothy Preston but everyone calls her Dilly.

"Sounds like me all over again," muttered Margaret as she read through the first paragraph. "I bet they didn’t call them ‘bag ladies’ then. I wonder what the term was?"

‘William said he watched the men from his office window and related what went on. It seemed to amuse him. "The woman naturally objected to being undressed by the men especially as many of the other workers kept passing by but after she had a couple of buckets of sea water thrown over her and was soaked from head to toe she took the clothes off by herself. Standing in front of the men she swore at them in true docker’s language. "Is that what you fucking wanted to see you scum faced bastard buggers?" she asked and continued to swear and hurl abuse at them. The stevedores were big tough men and just laughed at her the knocked her to the ground with more water and set to with brooms and a little soap and scrubbed her as she rolled on the floor. Luckily for Dilly, they’d been sweeping flour earlier so the brooms were the softer ones. Nevertheless they weren’t too gentle with her and the handles found their way into her crotch at times and her titties bounced well when the scrubbed them. Eventually I stepped in and gave her a cloth to dry herself and put her in a room by herself. This was more to keep my men working and not making sport of her, rather than to protect her modesty. I could see clearly now, she was a strong woman used to manual work. When the men came back and she was dressed I set her cleaning the outer office until it was time to leave and then brought her here."

"Did she come willingly?" I asked.

"Sort of," William smiled, "It was here or being put in the lock-up for vagrancy. She’s a bit rough and uncouth in her ways but no doubt a few touches from your birch will polish her up a bit. Underneath the rough exterior she seems quite a kindly woman. I only got part of her story so I’ll leave you to find out more. If she doesn’t fit in Josiah, let me know and I’ll take her back to the dock and see if the Sailors Tavern would want her." I decided to take a look at her and found she was not too unattractive although she would need feeding up. At about thirty-five years old and quite tall and muscular for a woman, she was not a beauty by any means but would add to my stock of women and I figure she might sell as a bed partner to some lonely man if her manners improved.

I told Alice to give her a good meal as we had finished ours and then to have the women bath her and bring her to me. She seemed pleased enough when I she heard about the meal but in her uncouth way spat out, "Don’t need another bath Sir. Them buggers this morn scrubbed me bloody skin to ribbons." I of course reprimanded her for swearing and pointed out, that in this workhouse swearing was punishable by the strap and if continued, by the birch.

A little later I heard and altercation in the kitchen and could hear Dilly’s angry voice. I also heard Alice call quietly for Jack so I waited to see what happened. The swearing continued but soon a crack of leather and the swearing was replaced by a scream. I entered the kitchen just as Katherine was stuffing Dilly’s mouth with a cloth. Jack had her held fast but was having some difficulty in holding the powerful, struggling woman. "Put her on the punishment bar, Alice and deal with her later. She may have calmed a bit by then." It wasn’t but a short time before Dilly was naked and strapped down to the pole on the punishment stool. I took the opportunity to examine her bottom and cunnie but without pushing my fingers inside and guessed they had both been well used.

Still the woman tried to struggle and we could tell she would be swearing at us had not the gag prevented it. Alice suggested we leave her for a while ‘to calm down and think about her manners’ and I agreed so we locked the door and left Dilly in there in complete darkness for over an hour.

When we returned with all the women to witness the punishment, Dilly was painfully aware of the narrow bar that ran between her breasts and pressed into her crack. I gave Dilly a long lecture on the behaviour I expected from the women here and the punishments they could expect. It ended with, "Dilly, if you wish to runaway in the morning, that’s fine by me but if you wish to stay and get three good meals a day you will conform to our rules. Your behaviour would normally warrant a severe birching in front of our Saturday guests but because it is your first time and I am still able to ask Mr. Forsdyke to take you back to the dock area next week if I am not satisfied with you, I will allow Alice as head of the household, to give you a thorough strapping." Turning to Alice I urged her to thrash the woman soundly. She did. The strap repeatedly lashed her buttocks and upper thighs until the whole area was red raw. Afterwards Jack wanted to ram his prick into her bottom hole but I refused to allow it until the doctor had seen her and checked she was free of the diseases many dockside whores carry. We left her again in darkness until Alice had her removed to a bed and asked Kate [Katherine?] to treat her bottom.

Dilly glared sourly at me when I arrived in the kitchen for breakfast. Kate and Mildred had helped her down and she didn’t reply when I gave my usual "Good Morning Ladies" greeting. Alice set her to work first with Mildred and then Kate and after two days I asked all three to report on how she had performed. All said she appeared somewhat clumsy and Kate said, "Although she seems to try, Dilly never seems to have worked with fine materials and consequently is constantly breaking the threads or tearing the cloth. I don’t think it’s really her fault Sir, she’s just never been trained. She’s got big awkward hands and the muscles of a man."

I sent for Dilly. At first my questions were answered with one or two words until Kate spoke to her. "What sort of sewing did you do before you came here?" she asked.

"Sewed sails, heavy canvas stuff. Used a palm and sail needle and waxed twine. Not thin cotton. I can splice ropes, reeve a tackle and skull a boat. All my life I’ve been at sea." I have translated her words into more readable english, as her Northumberland dialect was strong and her choice of words indelicate.

"Do you wish to go back to sea?" I asked.

"No Sir. Not no more. I’ve had enough of the sea now."

"Well I don’t know what to put you on doing here Dilly," I said, "Your not into housework, you can’t handle fabrics and I fear much would get torn in the laundry if I put you there. I shall have to think about how to fit you into our community or give you back to Mr. Forsdyke."

"If you please Sir." It was Mildred that spoke, "Why not try her in the garden Sir. Percy’s always complaining they garden is too big for one man to look after."

Percy was a man of forty years who I took into my employ a month ago. He lives on his own in a cottage in the village and works hard and has begun to get the garden in some sort of order after having been neglected for so long. After finding him in the tool shed eating his sandwiches alone one lunchtime, I suggested he sat with us and shared our lunch, which he has been doing for the past few weeks. At lunch that day I put the suggestion to him but he seemed shocked at the thought of a woman gardener. "They’re alright doing some field work when needed but no respectable house that I knows of, has a woman gardener." I pointed out the woman was strong and could easily lift sacks and push a barrow. She was also used to an outdoor life and being outside in all weathers. "A woman’s place is in the home and in the bed!" he stoutly argued.

Alice whispered to me. "Remember Bobby? We made a woman of him. Put trousers on her." This seemed a good idea and as I had to go into town the next day, I took her in the cart with me and visited Eastons and bought with several pairs of seaman’s trousers, guernseys and shirts. She was a more talkative on the way back and I found out a little more of her life.

"I met Douglas Preston when I was fifteen. His father owned a collier and after seeing me a few times I went to sea with him. We were never married but we lived as man and wife although he was much older than I was. For about a year we got along fine but then some of the younger seaman started to woo me and after a while I let them have me. It was fairly easy to find places on the boat that were away from prying eyes but then Dougie caught me at it.."

"What did he do about it, seeing neither you nor the seaman could leave?"

"He give us both lashing with the rope. It was freezing cold and the sea had quite a lop on, breaking o’er the starb’d bow and sending icy spray along the length of the brig. He has us both stripped starkers and I was tied to the foremast and him to the main so we could both see each other but I was in the worst of the spray. Soon I was wet all over. He’d already picked out two lengths of hemp as thick as your thumb and gives one to the mate. "Match my strokes on that fucking bastard," he orders and despite the motion lays it across my back while the rest of the crew watch. I screamed but it was lost in the noise of the wind and waves. I felt the rope rip a line of fire across my shoulders. He was very slow between each lash, as he had to wait until he’d got good balance and catch a moment when the ship was relatively still. Gradually he turned my whole back and arse into a mass of welts. God did I hurt. I cried, screamed and pleaded but he was too angry to stop. Through my wet eyes and the spray I could vaguely see the man getting the lash as well. Eventually it stopped and although it was very cold, my back and bum were on fire. I was left there for a while for the salt water to clean the wounds that were bleeding and then was taken to our cabin and bent over the table. Dougie rammed his cock in and kept yelling that his was the only cock that was to enter my cunnie in future and for a long while afterwards it was.

Over the years Dougie took more and more to rum and became less and less in charge of the vessel and Jock, the mate became captain without having the title. Dougie also lost much of his ability to get his prick up so I started to fuck with the mate. Inevitably we were caught. We thought he was in a drunken sleep when he burst into the mate’s cabin. He was staggering pretty much so we were able to avoid him and get on to the open deck. There was a fair breeze that night too and we were heeled over so the lee scuppers were only just above the water. Jock leaned against the lee rail and held on to the ratlines. Doug rushed and slid over the slanted deck and swung a terrific fist at Jock’s face. Jock was quick though and Doug, already unsteady on his feet, went over the side and that was the last I, or anyone else saw of him. The few of the crew who saw it, all swore Dougie was drunk and slid on the wet deck and went straight over the side. I didn’t mourn him much and Jock took over the captain’s job, his cabin and me as his woman! I probably would have still been with him had he not been knifed in a pub brawl here a few weeks ago. Some of the crew decided I was unlucky as both my men had been killed and didn’t want me on the ship so they left me here with my few possessions still on the brig."

Next day, attired in men’s gear and her hair in a seaman’s ponytail, she started work with Percy but there always seemed a good deal of resentment on his part to having a woman as his labourer. I cautioned him not to roger her. Although the good doctor had said she appeared free of infection, he said to wait a month and he would return and check her again, as the infection might be recent and not yet show any signs. This precluded my using her at the Saturday do’s.

It was about a month later that an incident occurred that changed the relationship between the two. The river had been running high and floodwater was washing away part of our garden. To stem the erosion, I ordered a tumbrel of sand and two gross of sacks. The nearest we could get the sand to the site was a hundreds yards distant so the pair filled the sand bags at the heap and when enough had been done to start closing the breach, Percy tucked one under each arm and walked to the river. Dilly did the same and overtook him. It became a silent competition between them. Both could have used the barrow and carted more at a time but for some reason they had decided on this test of strengths.

Percy then put two under each arm and staggered down the garden. Dilly did likewise and kept pace with him. On the second trip with two under each arm, Percy cried out and dropped his load and lay moaning in the wet grass. "My bloody back’s gone," he muttered. Without further ado, Dilly put the man over her shoulders and carried him through the back door into the kitchen. Sitting him on the table, she removed his boots and hers and then carried him to her room. Percy still screamed abuse at her for causing more pain to his back but she disregarded it and called out, "Miss Alice please bring some goose grease."

"It’s swan at the moment," Alice replied, "But I expect it will be just as good." A swan had come on to our back garden a few evenings back and with no one about, Percy had broken its neck with a lump of wood and brought it to the kitchen. We’d hastily plucked and burned the feathers and Alice cooked the large bird, which made a welcome, if illegal addition to our diet. Ironic perhaps that its juice was to help ease the pain of the one who killed it.

When we arrived at the bedroom, Dilly was expertly divesting Percy of his clothing and soon had him laid out at full stretch and face down on the bed. Alice handed her the dripping and Dilly spread a liberal amount over his back. Percy still groaned in agony but his partner just told him to keep still. Dilly climbed on the bed and kneeling, straddled him with her legs. Charlotte quipped, "You need him the other way up to get your..." She was silenced by Dilly’s, "Shut your mouth slut." Before I could reprimand her for her language, she turned angrily to all of us, "If you are going to watch, do so in silence! I need to feel his bones and hear what I am doing, not your stupid comments!" I think her words took us all aback and we kept quiet while she started at the base of his spine and massaged each of his vertebrae. At about the third one we all heard a click and then a scream from Percy.

"Got it!," Dilly exclaimed, "You’ll be alright now Percy boy but you’re going to have to rest for a few days." She went on to check the rest of the spine but they seemed fine. Later she explained that it was not an uncommon problem on sailing ships where the men had to twist themselves and pull ropes or move cargo at awkward angles.

Percy slept in her bed for two nights before she allowed him up and we heard her rogering him on his last morning in bed. Milly peeped in and told everyone that Dilly was on top and doing the work but Percy wasn’t minding. From then on, the pair worked more as a team. I have to admit, and so does Percy, she works very well in the garden and does an equal amount of work to him. I’m sure his prick is inside her quite frequently now especially when the inclement weather confines them to the potting shed.’

[Marginal note that wasn’t in code]

May 27th 1832. Percy and Dilly married in Pennydelset church.

Chapter27. Sheila abducted and abused

"What have you been up to Jeremy?" Margaret called, "The police have arrived." They’d been together for two years and the west end of the old workhouse was converted into three spacious flats, two occupied by middle aged couples and one by a single lady of about Margaret’s age. Margaret and Jeremy decided to keep the entire east end of the house in as near original condition as possible in keeping with modern living requirements. These included the kitchen, workroom, punishment room, scullery and eight bedrooms for themselves and to offer ‘workhouse B&B accommodation’ and link it with women’s craft courses. For over a year, conflicts between architects, planning authorities and English Heritage who wanted the whole building kept more or less as it was, caused them major headaches. Then it was the builder’s turn to reek havoc with their peaceful life style. Finally it was all over and the Workhouse had taken on a new lease of life as a residential, upmarket home for seven people. Jeremy and Margaret kept the part they originally lived in, including the over large kitchen with its solid fuel cooker, the punishment room and the bedrooms and workrooms. All except the punishment room, were tastefully redecorated. At times when things were fraught with the house renovation problems and the tensions strained the relationship between the pair but Jeremy insisted they never go to bed angry with each other. When things were at their worst, sometimes they sat late trying to resolve their differences verbally and by cuddling and sexuality. Now, with the worst over, they could indulge themselves and go away for days at a time.

Margaret greeted the constable but it was the WPC with him that spoke. "Margaret Smith?" When Margaret acknowledged she went on, "I’m WPC Rachael Hanson and my colleague is PC John Miller. Sorry miss, but we have some bad news for you. Your father committed suicide this morning."

The news did indeed shock her but she couldn’t bring herself to mourn her brutal father’s death. "Why? How?" was all she could utter.

"He hung himself. We were about to charge him with abduction and grievous bodily harm and other offences against a young girl."

"How bad is the girl?" asked Jeremy, his arm around his partner.

"Badly beaten Sir. She’s had a traumatic time but won’t talk about it much."

Margaret shivered, "I can guess, I can guess. She was held prisoner, tied and whipped all over and raped."

"You sound as if you have first hand experience of him." Rachael phrased it as a statement but anticipated an answer.

"Only for twenty-five years. But he’s dead now so don’t expect details."

Margaret had to formally identify the body and attend an inquest. The girl, a Sheila Johnson, was absent, still too shocked to talk and the counsellors made little headway. She’d left hospital and was again living with her mother. "Sheila," Margaret wrote, "You won’t know me but you may know of me. You may know too how I was made to suffer as you were but it was many years before I escaped. I know how you are suffering for I have suffered too. From childhood I was abused and mistreated and know only too well your feelings at this moment. Feelings you can’t share with anyone because of the shame and horror. Anyone that is, that has not been through it all. I went through the hell and have come out and have a life back again. Maybe I can help you. I needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood. By luck I found that person. Now I am offering to do the same for you. If you feel I can help by talking over our experiences, then ring me at the number above and perhaps we can meet somewhere, your place or mine, or someplace in town."

It was actually Sheila’s mother that rang inviting her over and who greeted her on arrival. "Sheila only half agreed to see you Margaret. She’s very worried but she knows more about you than she’s telling me. That I am sure of. I don’t know how she came to be mixed up with him. She seventeen and he’s well over fifty, or was."

The first meeting with Sheila was more a session of crying for both of them although Margaret, by listing some of the things her father had done to her as a child, did learn a little of what had been done to Sheila too. For a long time the girl just lay cradled in Margaret’s arms, sobbing quietly. Unfortunately each time she managed to get Sheila to talk a few words, so her mother popped in to see if everything was all right or to offer them tea. However, they did establish a rapport and Sheila agreed to come to the Workhouse for Sunday lunch. Mrs. Johnson wanted to come too but Margaret was adamant that she was not too. "I will get her to call you immediately after lunch and before I hope to start talking with her and again about four o’clock. Please don’t phone between those times. In any case I will get Jeremy to answer. If and when she starts talking, we will not want to be interrupted." Claire Johnson was a little put out by Margaret’s tone but agreed with reservations. Claire was after all, the girl’s mother and should be the one her daughter talked to, whereas Margaret was the daughter of the person who caused the problem. However, none of Claire’s cajoling or demanding had any effect on Sheila. She remained withdrawn and silent over what happened.

Lunch was a little strained. Sheila kept eying Jeremy with suspicion and only pecked at her food and the conversation was short and brief sentences. Afterwards Margaret packed Jeremy off into his study while she and Sheila sat on the couch. She put a match to the wood fire, not because it was cold but added a cheery glow and watching the flames has a hypnotic soothing effect on the mind.

When they were nicely settled with a second glass of wine, Margaret gave the girl a hug and started to relate a little of her own story particularly of her treatment as a child and early teenager. In doing so she hoped to gain Sheila’s confidence and get her to speak of her own experience. It took more than an hour and another glass of wine before the girl started to open up. When she did there was no holding her back.

"I went to a disco with a another girl and on the way suggested to her that I might go away with my boyfriend. My mother always seems so overbearing and even now I am seventeen, she wants to home by eleven. When I left that evening I shouted back at her, saying I would be home when I got home, and that would be sometime in the early hours of the morning. I saw my mother at the door shouting back as I got into my friend’s car.

At first the disco was great but then Dan, my boyfriend started dancing with one of his ex-girlfriends and left me out. I saw them leave together and followed and we had a big row. He left with her and I started walking home at about 2 a.m. The girl who brought me had already left as she thought I was with Dan.

About a mile from the village a car pulled up and your father, although I didn’t know it was him, jumped out and punched me in the stomach. Next thing I knew I was tied and gagged in the boot of his car. At his house he carried me into the bedroom, took of my jeans and knickers and threw me face down on the bed. I struggled, I really did, but he grabbed an ankle and fastened it to the bottom of one bedpost and then did the same with the other. He undid my wrists and although I tried to hit him, with my ankles held, he was far too strong and took off my little jacket, blouse and bra until I was completely naked. My wrists were then tied to a rope that goes under the bed so I was helplessly bent over the end of the bed."

"I know exactly the position," muttered Margaret, "I’ve spent many, many hours like that while he thrashed and raped me."

"Now little girl," your father said, "I think you can guess a little of what is going to happen to you. But only a little." Then he grinned and I felt his hands feeling my crotch. "First though you are going to tell me who you are and why you’re out so late at night." I kept silent which I soon found was a mistake. There was a swish THWACK!! A few seconds later another swish THWACK!! I screamed at the pain. I screamed and screamed but he said no one would hear me. The old house had thick walls and was away from the others. I guessed which house it was although I didn’t know your father.

When I calmed a little he showed me the white plastic cane he used and told me how and where he would use it if I didn’t cooperate. I told him what he wanted to know and unfortunately related I had planned to go away with my boyfriend. He undressed while I was telling him. I saw his stomach and cock were all sort of scarred and he’d no hair around it but it was hard. It was grotesque."

"I thought the scalding would have put paid to that but no doubt the surgeons did a better job than they should have," Margaret commented.

"Take a good look Girlie. A woman did that but you won’t get the chance. I’m going to get my own back and you are going to suffer like I suffered. He then asked if I was a virgin. I wasn’t but hadn’t had much experience. "I’ll soon change that," he said, "I’ll train you like I did my Margaret. You can call me Daddy and by the time I’m ready to dump you in the river, you’ll be more experienced than the whores that parade along the quayside in town."

I pleaded with him but he hit me across the shoulders with the cane. "Listen Girlie," he growled, "I shall fuck you in every hole and do anything else I want with you. Object as much as you like but in the end this little cane, or the whip or the strap will make you do it. I’ll enjoy thrashing you too. Now let’s see what your cunt feels like around my cock." He raped me and..."

"And he mauled and hurt your breasts at the same time." Margaret added for her, "And he utterly humiliated you by calling you a whore and a cunt and others things like that. All to make you feel dirty."

Crying Sheila nodded and then went on. "When he finished inside me, I was ordered to suck his cock clean. The scars looked worse when it was shrivelled up. I shook my head and refused so he gave my bum another four with the cane and told me to do it again. I did it but felt disgusted with myself that first time but after a few days of having to do that and worse I lost all sense of guilt.

My wrists and legs were released from the bed but I was spread-eagled under the bed and re-tied to each leg. He also gagged me so my moans didn’t disturb his sleep. I didn’t sleep at all but about nine o’clock he got out of bed and dragged me to the loo. He brought a strap with him. "Piss and shit," he said, "It may be your last chance for a while." All the while he stood in front of me with his hard cock almost touching my nose. I thought he’d want me to suck it again but it was worse than that. "Now Girlie, it time for drinkies. My piss goes into the loo via your body." I hardly comprehended what he said until he ordered me to open my mouth. It hardly went in before it gushed causing me to cough and splutter. A lot of it went over him, which made him very angry.

Hitting my face he shouted, "I told you to drink it bitch, not spew it all over me!" Grabbing my hair he dragged me to that pipe that goes above the doorway to the utility room. There was already a rope looped over it so I guessed it had been used before." Margaret nodded, remembering the times she’d been beaten in that doorway. "With the rope he pulled my arms above my head and then my feet were tied to rings each side of the door sill. I was completely helpless so I started screaming but that annoyed him too so he put one of his old socks in my mouth and bound it in with the other. "Time to tickle those titties of yours Girlie," he laughed as he swung the strap.

I thought the first blow would have burst my breasts like a balloon but all it did was flatten them. The pain was terrible. I thought I would pass out. I wanted to but didn’t. Again and again he hit them until I did fall unconscious. When I came too I was fastened over the end of the bed. He’d removed my gag and I cried and yelled into the blanket. The strap fell across my bottom and he ordered me to be quiet or he would strip the skin from my arse. I tried but the pain in my breasts was so awful it was difficult not to yell.

"Time to take your arsehole virginity Girlie," he crowed. I felt his thumbs push my bottom cheeks apart and then his cock was at my hole. "It’s going in one way or the other Girlie so either relax your arse and let it go in easy or I’ll ram it in hard and split you open. Pretend you are having a shit." I did and it did go in but oh God, how it did hurt."

"I know my love," Margaret soothed the crying girl, "I know only too well and I expected you were forced to clean him afterwards." Sheila nodded. "Go, on finish your tale. Get it off your chest."

"For three days, he used me in every way and every day some part of me was strapped or caned. On the Tuesday, I heard the police call making house to house enquiries but at the time I was fastened and gagged under the bed and they didn’t come in. Just asked routine questions as to his whereabouts on Saturday night and if he’d seen or heard anything untoward at that time. Your father of course lied and they left. Wednesday night was the first night I slept in his bed. I was tied of course but it made a change from the hard floor under the bed. I did sleep better and your father too seemed in a little better mood. I had to submit to him as usual and had to drink his pee but he even gave me some breakfast. I ate it all as he’d given me little enough on the previous days.

Soon after he had a call on his mobile that pleased him. "I’ll be right over," I heard him say, "About half an hour." I was taken upstairs and told to get under the bed. He pushed me and I went face down whereas before I was always pulled under face up. It didn’t matter to him particularly as he was anxious to get away but it did mean my tender tits were against the hard floor. Once he’d left I noticed my right wrist wasn’t tied as tight as it usually was and by a bit of fiddling I found I could easily slide the loop up and down the bed leg. The bulbous knob thing at the bottom prevented it going right to the bottom though. Eventually, with much tugging and pulling and tightening the bit around my wrist, I got the loop to the floor. After many attempts, I was able to ignore the pain from the welts across my back and to use it to lift the bed just enough to slip the loop under the leg and free that hand. With the one hand free, even in the confined space I undid the left hand and then my legs. All of this must have taken several hours and I was very afraid he might return and catch me.

I’d not seen my clothes since I arrived so I wrapped my body in a blanket from the bed and fled from the house. I was almost too late. As I ran to the road a woman who I knew drove by and I flagged her down. I collapsed in her car. "Police Station Moira," I sobbed out. Hardly had I shut the door when his car turned the corner. He must have seen me as he followed us for a bit. Moira gave me her phone and said to dial 999, which I did. When your father saw me phoning, he turned back. Later he was found hanging in the woods. I think you know the rest of the story from the inquest and things."

Sheila snuggled sobbing quietly into Margaret’s chest. Distantly they heard the doorbell and moments later, Claire, Sheila’s mother burst into the room. "Is she alright? What have you done with her? What has she told you? Come here Sheila."

Sheila hugged Margaret tighter. "Sit down please, Mrs. Johnson. Jeremy’s voice in officer mode, cut through. "I’m sure Sheila will tell you if and when she feels the need. I’ll bring in some tea and then we can all have a quiet chat."

"Has she told YOU what happened?" Claire directed her attention to Margaret.

"Speaking levelly and quietly, Margaret responded, "Yes, she has. And before you ask, it is very confidential. Only if Sheila wishes you to know, will you be told. Now that she has told someone, she should start to get over it, but it is a slow process and it will need a lot of understanding on your part or whoever looks after her."

"Come here Sheila." Sheila shook her head and clung more tightly to Margaret. "It’s your fault Mrs. Saunders-Smythe. If you’d reported your father earlier this wouldn’t have happened."

"I’m Miss Margaret Smith. Yes, perhaps that is true, but also consider why your daughter wanted a weekend away from home with a boyfriend. It wasn’t just for sex."

"It was for freedom," Sheila spoke bitterly. "Freedom from orders. Freedom to do what I wanted with my life. If you really want me back, it will be with fewer restrictions. For the moment I want to stay and talk with my new friends and maybe learn how to get over the horror. I need someone to talk to, someone who won’t condemn me. Please mother let me stay and spend the evening here. I’m sure they will see me home later."

Disgruntled, Claire left with a parting shot. "Don’t be too late bringing her back."

In the next few weeks Sheila spent a lot of time at the Workhouse but gradually the visits became less frequent as the effects of her trauma lessened. In the following September she obtained a place in college and moved away and visited only in term time breaks.

"How would you like to become Mrs. Saunders-Smythe?" Jeremy asked when everyone had gone.

"Is that a proposal, Colonel Jeremy Saunders-Smythe?"

"It is. Although I hadn’t planned on asking you in an off hand way like this. I’ve been wanting to ask you for some time now but we seemed happy enough as we are."

"Well Colonel Jeremy Saunders-Smythe. I accept your proposal."

Henry Smith died intestate, and as Margaret was his only next of kin, the house, its contents and the car came to her. They were all sold. After the taxes were settled, Jeremy insisted she keep the money in an account of her own and they set up a joint account for household things. "For your peace of mind," he said, "If circumstances change, you’ll never need to be a bag lady again."

Chapter28. The Countess

"Read us one of the stories from your Journal Margaret please," Theresa begged. Theresa Harris and her husband Jim had bought the ground floor flat and were the neighbours they were most friendly with. Theresa and Margaret had hit it off immediately they met to discuss the renting of the flat and since moving in, they often went to town together or popped in to each other’s place for morning coffee. Jim and Jeremy also enjoyed each other’s company although they were from somewhat different backgrounds. For most of his adult life Jim had worked as a steward on cruise ships and it was on a cruise he’d met Theresa. "You wouldn’t believe how many women go on cruises just to get some extra cock," Jim told Jeremy when they were chatting one morning.

The relationship between the two couples might have stayed platonic had not three unrelated events occurred within the space of a month. When the rural post van arrived in the mornings Margaret or Jeremy would go out and greet him and often Jim or Theresa would collect theirs at the same time. Mail for the other two flats was delivered to the rear entrance. This particular morning there were two identical packages one for each. Nothing was said as both men took their package but each knew they belonged to the same adult book club. Later Jim asked, "Which book did you get Jeremy?"

"Lisa’s Life on the Plantation. And you?"

"Sent to Morocco." After a short discussion on the books during which each learned the books were read in bed with their wives, they agreed to swap books they had read. It was the first indication each couple had of the other’s sexual activity.

Later the same week, Theresa was in Margaret’s kitchen for morning coffee. "I hope Jeremy gets back soon, I wanted him to help turn the mattress and then I can finish making the bed." Margaret remarked.

"I can help with that, Margaret. It doesn’t take muscle. It’s just an awkward job to do on your own." The phone rang just as the pair entered the bedroom and Margaret returned downstairs to answer it. On the nightstand Theresa spotted the copy of Josiah’s Journal. Intrigued she picked it up and started to read and was engrossed when Margaret returned. Embarrassed at having been caught, she stuttered, "Sorry Margaret I shouldn’t have... It’s ruder than those books the men buy." Margaret laughed and agreed and the pair got on with the mattress and the incident passed over.

Late one evening a fortnight later, Jeremy was warming Margaret’s bottom with a strap as she lay naked along the bar in the punishment room when there was a knock at the door. It was Stephanie from the top floor flat. Fortunately he had his pyjamas on and his dressing gown was handy. "I’m sorry to disturb you Jeremy but I don’t have any power. When I came in and went to put the lights on, there was nothing. There’s light’s on downstairs."

I’ll get a torch and come and have a look. Probably the trip switch." He turned and called back to Margaret, "I’ll only be a few minutes." It was but every time he pushed the switch so it cut out again. "There’s a short somewhere," he told the woman. It turned out to be a loose connection in a table lamp she had bought but it took nearly half an hour to find and correct the problem.

Meanwhile Theresa and Jim returned home from an evening out, saw the door to Jeremy’s kitchen ajar, knocked and walked in. Margaret groaned in her gag, the pain from the bar was getting to be more than she wanted. Theresa and Jim walked through and were amazed and shocked at the sight. Removing the gag Margaret begged them to release her, which they did. Margaret, now in her robe, blushingly tried to explain. "It’s not what you might think. You might as well know. We sometimes do this before we go to bed and you know... Jeremy got called away."

"It’s alright Margaret," Theresa soothed, "Jim sometimes spanks me before we do it. I suppose the two boys are kindred spirits seeing they belong to the same book club."

Jeremy arrived back and seeing everyone in the kitchen stated, "Well I guess you know our little secret now. You can either shun us or continue as our friends."

"We’re still your friends Jeremy," Theresa said, "We do it too only we don’t have the facilities you have. Perhaps we should talk about our interests another evening because I’m sure Margaret needs some urgent attention." So it was they got together and not only discussed sexual matters but experienced them in a practical way. Both couple used the punishment room and the girl’s witnessed each other being strapped or caned and ‘raped’ afterwards by their partner. So far they hadn’t swapped but they all knew it wouldn’t be long before they did. Theresa had brought up the journal in the first discussion session and Margaret read the first ‘chapter’ to them. Subsequently she was asked to read more of it to put them in the mood at their little get togethers.

"Do read us one of the stories from your Journal Margaret please," Theresa repeated.

January 15th 1832

It was William Forsdyke who brought me two more women a little over a month ago now. They had come ashore from a ship that sailed from Latvia and, although well dressed, were penniless. The elder, a woman of thirty-two claimed to be a countess and to be travelling with her maid to set up residence in London. Their money had been stolen while on board ship and she accused the captain of the crime. However, the captain and the crew all claimed she had come aboard with barely enough money for the fare and at this stage no one could prove otherwise. At the docks the pair were set on the quayside with just their belongings and the captain rather maliciously suggested they ask for work at the Sailor’s Tavern, he knowing very well, it is really more of a brothel than a drinking house. One of William’s stevedores unloading the ship, reported the altercation to his employer and he persuaded them to come to the Workhouse.

"I am Countess Natasha Romeinikov and this is my maid..." She spoke a name which was almost unpronounceable to me but which sounded like a longer version of Myrna so we call her that. The Countess spoke quite reasonable english but her phrasing and accent were unmistakably foreign. Her voice was imperious and demanding and she began treating me as her servant. I took an instant dislike to her attitude and decided that having her flesh bared over the bar in the punishment room and warmed with the birch would soon inform her of her new status. Myrna spoke only a few words in our language although she seemed to understand a little. Both women were attractive, nineteen year old Myrna especially. Her figure was fresh and plump and my cock started to rise at the sight of her.

Despite my thoughts, I took them into the parlour and asked the Countess to explain her position. For once, it seemed she preferred to talk directly to me rather than Alice. Perhaps having witnessed Alice laying the strap across Charlotte’s bum before the four of us sat down to talk, may have had something to do with that. Still she treated me as a menial and very condescendingly told me a little of her background.

The gist of it was, she was the daughter of a merchant in Russia and he arranged a marriage for her to Count Romeinikov when she was fifteen and moved to his estate in Latvia. After five years she still hadn’t produced any children for him so he banished her to a country home on the estate and took a mistress. He gave her sufficient allowance to run the house and its servants. She took a lover but when the Count heard of this he arranged for the lover to be killed and gave Natasha a week to leave his estate. She took all the money she had and Myrna and bought a passage to England. On the boat, her purse containing many gold pieces was stolen so when she arrived she had no money. "You will allow me to write to my father and he will repay you for your services to me here, my good man. Now perhaps you will get this woman of yours to provide me with some refreshment. My servant will know my likes although she is uneducated in your language." she ended. Both Alice and I bristled with anger.

"Countess," I said as levelly as I could, "You seem very mistaken as to your position here. I will of course allow you to write to your father but until we receive a reply and reimbursement, you will be treated in the same way as all the other ladies here. This is a workhouse and you will be expected to work. You will also conform to our workhouse rules. Punishment for infringements or laziness is dealt with either by Alice or myself."

"You don’t expect a woman of my breeding to work surely, my man. That is too preposterous."

"Firstly woman, you will call me Sir or Master. Secondly, yes you will be made to work and thirdly you will be punished and most probably from your manner, it will be very soon and naked and in front of the other ladies."

"You can’t mean..." she interrupted.

"Natasha, if you interrupt me again Alice will stripe your arse. From the little you have told us, you will have little useful skills, far less so than Myrna and so your working position will be underneath her."

"You can’t mean I will have to take orders from her! She’s only a...."

"Alice, ask Jack to come in please."

"Sir, you will please to show me to my room. It must be on the ground floor for I do not wish to climb stairs. I have listened to enough of your nonsense." I made no move and she rebuked me in front of Jack and Alice who had just returned.

"Jack, take this woman to the punishment room," I ordered, "Alice assemble everyone there." I was furious at the arrogance of the so-called countess. At first she just looked horrified but soon she started screaming at me half in her own tongue. That didn’t bother Jack at all. He scooped the woman up and threw her over his shoulder. "I’m sure you’ll soon have something more to scream about lady," he laughed at her. I took Myrna’s hand and led her behind her ex mistress. Natasha, I refused to call her countess because of her behaviour, was still looped over Jack’s shoulder and still struggling when all the ladies were assembled and watching. I could tell from their faces that they were expecting to see a harsher punishment than normal for a mid-week evening.

"Put her down Jack." He promptly dumped her on the floor. "Undress," I ordered Natasha.

"No! I will not undress in front of you and all these people."

I had to admire her spirit but went to the wall and took down a horsewhip and cracked it close to her body. "Either you undress yourself or Jack rips them from you. Either way you are going to be naked and everyone is going to witness you being thrashed." Again she hesitated and Jack caught hold of the front opening of her dress but before he tore it she said she would do it. However, her fingers couldn’t manage the buttons at the back.

"I help." It was Myrna who spoke almost for the first time. "She no ever undress her own." I smiled at the choice of words but allowed her to help until Natasha was down to her under garments. These I made her take off herself. Seeing she was likely to refuse, Alice laid her strap hard across the woman’s shoulders knocking her forward. "Everything off, Natasha. The ladies and I wish to see everything." Eventually she was naked and I had Jack fasten her wrists to the ceiling beam so she was all exposed and had him gag her to stop the abuse the flowed like a torrent from her mouth. Most of it we couldn’t understand anyway.

Turning to Myrna I instructed her to undress too. She shook fearfully but started to take her clothes off. "You’re not to be punished Mryna," I said slowly, "But everyone gets a look and feel you." There were gasps from everyone when Myrna’s dress came off to reveal a back criss-crossed with welts obviously made by a whip some weeks ago. Touched the marks I asked, "Who did this?"

"I no please mistress," was her only reply.

I gave Myrna a hug and held her hand. "While you are here she is not your mistress. I am your master and Alice is mistress." I then gave my usual little speech of welcome. "Ladies, we have a tradition here that every newcomer shows her whole body to everyone present so she has nothing to hide and doesn’t feel superior to the others. May I present Myrna who is a servant girl from Latvia." I took her around the group starting with Jack and Alice and introduced her to each and all the ladies curtsied and shook her hand, then felt her breasts and between her legs, before giving her a kiss. Myrna seemed bewildered by it all but accepted it as part of her new life.

"Ladies, this is Natasha. She calls herself a countess but here she has no rank. No status. In fact she has been very abusive to us and, as you can see, she is about to get what is probably the first thrashing of her life. I have no doubt though, and I am sure you haven’t any doubts either after seeing Myrna’s back, she has given or ordered many others to be severely punished. Unfortunately Myrna’s command of our language is not sufficient yet to tell us. Please come forward and introduce yourselves ladies but there is no need to curtsy before her or to be gentle when you feel the smoothness of her skin. It will not be that way for long." Each lady in turn came forward, spoke her name and welcomed Natasha and felt her breasts and cunnie much harder than they had Myrna. Natasha blushed as her body was felt in the most intimate of her places. She even tried kicking but then her weight fell on to her wrists causing pain in her shoulders, shoulders not strengthened by having done any manual work.

Myrna stood to one side but I pushed her in front of her mistress. "Say Hello to Natasha." She said something in her own language and I put her hands on Natasha’s bosoms and squeezed.

"I know titties on her very good," Myrna said slowly, "I know coozie good too." From this I guessed she’d been forced to have a sexual relationship with her.

"Spread her on the bar, belly up," I instructed when Myrna and the ladies had all introduced themselves. "Now Natasha, you’ve been introduced to Alice but not her strap. It has a fiery kiss. Alice is head of the household and is allowed to use it as she thinks fit on any of the maids. She will use it on you anytime she thinks you are not working or are abusive or for any other reason. For tonight’s little show she’s going to give you a full frontal warming so you’ll be ready for when I warm your arse." Natasha’s eyes were now wide with fear and tears were rolling around her ears. "Remove her gag, Alice, then we can hear what a countess squeals like when she is warmed."

As she had done on occasions before, Alice unstrapped the woman’s ankles and gave them to Jack to hold together at waist level. She started lashing the strap across Natasha’s thighs a little above the knees and worked her way up. Her victim was now screaming but Alice was in no mood to stop although I noticed she was holding back with the force she applied. She undoubtedly realised the countess wouldn’t stand as much punishment as a working woman. When she reached the crotch, she ordered Jack to spread the woman and then planted two stinging lashes on her cunnie. Seeing Jack’s cock bulging in his breeches, she asked Charlotte to release it for him and then she carried on along the woman’s stomach and finished by bouncing her ample titties with the strap. Natasha’s cries had now become little more than hoarse groans.

"Give her some water," I ordered and seeing Jack look at me I gave him the go ahead to use her.

"She won’t have any sponge in, Sir." Alice remarked.

"Her husband couldn’t make her pregnant in five years so I think we’ll forget about protecting her. That way we’ll find out if the fault lies with her or her husband." Jack held himself back and ravished her for a long while until his seed was forced out of him and filled her womb. Alice suggested a break for some ale and I prescribed a tankard for everyone. Natasha was sat in a chair and Myrna held the tankard to her lips but she screwed her face up and drank little. No doubt she wanted wine or vodka.

Half an hour later and we were all in a jolly mood to continue. All that is except Natasha. She kicked and protested as she was strapped down to the bar again, this time with very sore flesh making contact with the bar. I thought it wouldn’t be long before she passed out so I resolved to lay the birch on smartly to cover the widest area. I started at the low buttocks and lashed hard and quickly until her arse was raw and then worked from her shoulders down. She didn’t pass out but it was close. We revived her with a little more ale. "Take her to one of the top floor rooms, Jack. Alice will come up to attend to her in a few minutes and then you can have her as often as you like."

I took Myrna still naked to my room and when I undressed and she saw my hard prick she knew what was going to happen to her. However, I waited and just played and fondled her until Alice returned and fitted a sponge inside her. I didn’t want this little beauty pregnant.

"Jack was rogering her again when I left," Alice remarked as I ploughed into Myrna. The girl didn’t seem to mind and was soon thrusting back to me. "I think Jack will sleep with her tonight so she’ll be well fucked by morning. Perhaps we should keep her next real punishment for our Saturday session her which is only ten days away." I agreed.

Alice showed Myrna how I liked to be cleaned and then cleaned the girl herself. Myrna then surprised us by saying to Alice, "Now you like I coosie you." When Alice smiled not really knowing what the girl meant, Myrna set too and very skilfully suckled her breasts and continued down to her cunnie. Alice writhed in pleasure. Myrna had obviously done this many times before.

When were all resting again, ready for sleep Alice asked, "You have to do coosie to Natasha?"

"Yah. I no good, get whip." I would have liked to have pursued that further but her English wasn’t good enough and we were all tired.

"How was she Jack?" I asked next morning.

"Quite tight Sir. I don’t think she’s had a man for some years and never up the arse. I think I’ll open her up there today - unless you want to do that Sir?" I told he could do it but to let me know so I could watch. "She wasn’t very responsive, but maybe she was too sore for that."

Natasha was much subdued when Jack brought to still naked to breakfast. Her body was well coloured and she walked painfully. She would remember her first night here for the rest of her life. I asked Katherine to find her a simple dress and one for Myrna. Countess finery would not be suitable for working here especially as Alice set her to cleaning stoves and Myrna’s dress could be kept for Sunday best. I assigned Charlotte as Natasha’s mentor as I knew she wouldn’t stand for any nonsense and asked her to walk both girls around the house and grounds to familiarise them with the place. Alice took Myrna as part of the kitchen staff.

Later that afternoon, Charlotte came to me and in her forthright way said, "If you please Sir, Jack sent me to say he’s ready to fuck Nat’s arse." I said I would be right there and asked how Natasha had worked that morning. "Well Sir, of course she’s sore but even so she’s not keen on getting her hands dirty and mutters a lot in that lingo of hers."

"Well if there’s no improvement tomorrow, I’ll give you the authority to spank her for minor disobedience. Anything worse and Alice or I will deal with. You may have to be careful though, she likes playing with women." I knew Charlotte wasn’t adverse to woman sex either.

When we arrived, Natasha was bent over the end of the bed and Jack was applying dripping to her virgin bum hole. She cried out every time he inserted his finger and tried to move off the bed. "Shall I sit on her Sir?" Charlotte asked. I nodded. "Thank you. Now I’ll get the best view," Charlotte laughed. As well as getting a good view Charlotte pulled the woman’s bottom cheeks apart and guided Jack’s cock. We all heard her muffled cries as Jack forced his way in and eventually gained full depth. Thereafter he used long steady strokes, forcing his cock in until his balls slapped against her cunnie and withdrawing until the head almost popped out. He took his time and her cries seemed to die down, but in the end Jack shot his load into her bowels. Charlotte moved off Natasha so she could clean Jack’s cock and when it seemed she might refuse, Charlotte squeezed her still tender breasts, causing her to scream and open her mouth. Jack slipped his prick in.

"She wasn’t very willing to clean me in the night," Jack remarked but I guess with enough encouragement she’ll do it well enough before she leaves.

Watching Jack had given me a hard-on too so I bade Charlotte hold her still again. This time the hussy didn’t sit on Natasha’s back but lifted her skirt and slid along the bed until Natasha’s face was in her crotch. "Get your tongue right in there Nat." she ordered and when she didn’t comply again squeezed her titties. "Having big titties might make you attractive to men but they also are good handles," Charlotte laughed as she flipped her skirt back down, covering the woman’s head.

I pushed my prick in quite easily after Jack had not only opened her with his large pole but had lubricated her with his seed. Still she was nice and tight around my shaft and I enjoyed a good long fuck. Part way through my performance Charlotte pulled her skirt up again and once more tightened her grip on Natasha’s titties. "Get that tongue working Nat. I need to come before Sir finishes." I did finish a little before Charlotte but held myself within her bottom until Natasha’s mouth was free.

I saw Myrna was looking shocked at our performance and I took her hand and asked if she had had it in her bottom. When she shook her head, I said we would try it tonight. She looked afraid but Alice assured her it wouldn’t hurt much.’

"That’s the end of that little section," Margaret stated, "Sex in this institution seems to have been a very public affair and perhaps still is."

"Have you had it in your bottom Margaret?" Jim enquired," I’ve never seen Jeremy do it to you.

"Many times. What about you Theresa?"

"No. I have always resisted it. Seems dirty somehow."

"Well, it isn’t really and it did hurt a bit at first especially as my father forced it in. Jeremy is more considerate. Actually if it is done right it is pleasurable. Perhaps we should make you play the countess and let both boys rape your bottom."

"I’ll think about it but the story has made me horny and the boys are hard so perhaps we can use your bedroom? And would you mind if I tried out Jeremy?"

Chapter 29. Craft course

Pennydelset Workhouse

"Experience 18th Century life in authentic workhouse conditions and learn a genteel craft.

Modern life is vastly different to life two centuries ago. Now those who wish to savour the ‘good old days’ can do so in a workhouse built in 1782. As far as possible and still conform to council regulations, we have recreated the rooms as they were in the mid 19th century.

Our en suite facilities consist of a washbasin and jug on a stand and a chamber pot under the bed. We still use the original iron framed beds but have modern mattresses with blankets and sheets.

Discipline is strict. Unfortunately we cannot use the birch or strap that was so readily used in the past but a rigid work regime will be imposed. Inmates will be expected to wear simple work clothes and no make-up. All will be expected to help with housework and do such chores as are necessary in a workhouse. Full board is provided and as far as possible the meals will be similar to those of yesteryear. Only fresh products will be used and everything home cooked

Send for details to:"

"You may be wondering why such a large workhouse was built in a tiny village." Margaret went through her spiel to the six ladies on their tour of the building. "It was built and paid for by Gyppeswick burghers as somewhere to put the destitute women that plagued the streets of the town. They funded it for forty years and at one time there were sixty women here. When the funding ceased and the number of inmates declined, they only used this east wing. The western end which is now private flats was just kept in sufficient repair to prevent major decay." Margaret showed them the workroom, the kitchen and finally the restored punishment room. After explaining the various devices and the sexual nature of some of the punishments she remarked, "If any of you get chalk marks against your name during the week you are here, then expect to pay a visit to this room on Saturday evening and have your bottoms birched." It wasn’t a real threat because the course finished with lunch on the Saturday morning. The party returned to the lounge.

"You were all sent details of the arrangements for your stay and your corn dolly making course. I will introduce you to Sarah Hardwick the tutor later. When I finish this introduction, you will start your workhouse experience and this will continue until after coffee on Saturday when we will have a final one-hour informal session in here to discuss the event. During your stay you will address me as Ma’am and my husband who unfortunately is sorting out a boiler problem at the moment, as Sir. I will address you by your first name. Two of you, Janet and Kathy I see have already flouted the rules by wearing make-up. When you are dismissed you will go to your rooms and wash. You will then report to me in the kitchen in your working clothes before 5:30 ready to prepare vegetables for tonight’s dinner. The rest of you should put on your working clothes but are free to wander around the house and gardens until dinner, which tonight is at seven o’clock. Sally, you will report to me twenty minutes earlier to clear and set the table. Is that understood?" There were several murmurs and one or two questions.

"I asked if my instructions were understood? I expect a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ as a reply. Not a debate. Now do you understand what you have to do?" snapped Margaret.

"Yes, Ma’am," chorused most of the six.

All the group of friends belonged to a craft society in Northwich, forty miles away and had decided it would be a lark to spend a week at the workhouse and find out a little of the life of women in olden times and learn a new craft. Most of them entered into the spirit of the experience. Only Shelly, a forty-four year old seemed to try and buck the rules. She had a bubbly joking personality and giggled when Margaret and Jeremy entered for dinner. Margaret was dressed in a long black dress with a leather tawse hanging from her waist and Jeremy in black suit and waistcoat with a red cravat. "Wow!" Shelly exclaimed, "Looks like we’re in for a hard time on this course girls."

"And I think it will be your bum that feels the strap first," laughed Janet which produced giggles all round.

When dinner finished, Margaret gave out their work rosters for the week. "Breakfast in the morning is 8 o’clock. The two on morning kitchen duty will report here at seven. By the time you come down you will have washed, emptied your piss pot, made your bed and left your room tidy. All bedroom doors to be left wide open for inspection. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma’am."

"Once the washing-up is done, you are free to read or talk until lights out at 10:30. Sorry fire regulations don’t allow us to use oil lamps and candles but we have electrified equivalents. There is no television or radio here and those of you who have brought portables or mobile phones, please make sure they are turned off and not used at all during your stay. This was made clear to you in the brochure. Some evenings after eight, we allow a ‘modern hour’ when you can relax and talk freely to each other and to us. During that hour we will no longer be master and mistress.

Shelly arrived late for breakfast. "I believe Miss, I told you quite clearly the time you had to arrive for breakfast. Did I not?"

"Yes Margaret... er Ma’am."

"You have to forgo breakfast now and..."

"I don’t eat breakfast anyway," responded Shelly truculently.

For a few moments there was silence except for a few nervous giggles from Kathy and Mary. "Well we seem to have a troublesome one here. I think perhaps we will have to use the punishment chair." Only the night before, Jeremy had brought out the heavy oak chair from the punishment room and placed it in the kitchen. "Bend over the back and clasp the front legs."

"Ooow! The strict mistress is going to spank me," laughed Shelly as acted up her part. "Supposing I don’t want to bend over?"

"I’m sure your friends will assist as they don’t want their week spoiled by not having things really authentic. You will help won’t you ladies?"

"Yes, Ma’am." Laughter a giggles from the women.

Still laughing Shelly bent over the back and leaned forward. "Is my botty about the right height for you Ma’am?" However she was a little taken aback when Margaret quickly caught her wrists and fastened them to the front legs and soon after strapped her ankles to the rear.

"Don’t go away Shelly I think we need to inspect your room before we decide on your punishment. Keep an eye on her Jeremy please." Margaret led the way, "Follow me ladies, I will check your rooms at the same time." Sally and Janet’s rooms were tidy. Kathy had to be reprimanded because her door was closed. Mary blushed beet red when Margaret pulled her half filled pee pot from under the bed. "These are self emptying Mary. You empty them yourself."

As everyone anticipated Shelly had not had time to make her bed, tidy the room or empty her pot. Margaret decided to play the severe mistress when they returned to Shelly. She was groaning about the undignified and uncomfortable position she’d been placed in. "Shelly you are a disgrace, not only do you turn up late for breakfast, your room is like a pig’s sty and you have hardly washed your face or combed your hair properly. For arriving late you will receive four strokes of the strap and for not leaving you room tidy you will get two chalks marks against your name. That means four strokes of the birch on Saturday evening. However, because of regulations, I will commute the strapping and instead have the chair with you bent over it, taken into the punishment room and left there with the door locked. You will be left in complete darkness for one hour."

"No! No! Please no. Give me the strap. Don’t be a bitch and leave me like this any longer," begged and pleaded Shelly.

"That language has just increased the time to one and a half hours, Shelly. You were told how to address me. Years ago it would have doubled your strapping."

"Sorry Ma’am. Please don’t put me in the dark. Please don’t leave me bent over like this. Give me the strap. I won’t say anything." Shelly continued to plead. "It won’t happen again."

"Ma’am?" It was Stella who spoke. Margaret knew she and Shelly had the same address and they came in Stella’s car. "It’s alright to give her the whacks. She sort of expected it. We talked about it before we came. I think she was deliberately late. Normally she’s up before me." There were murmurs of "Yes, give her the strap," from the other ladies again accompanied by more giggles and laughter. To them it was a joke but Margaret could also see excitement in their eyes.

Somewhat against her better judgement Margaret asked, "You’re sure you are willing to take eight with the strap Shelly?"

"Yes, Ma’am. Just get it over with."

Turning to the others Margaret went on, "You realise that if I give Shelly a dose of the tawse, you are almost duty bound to receive it to for any misdemeanours of yours?"

For a moment there was silence then Kathy who had booked the week for the group spoke. "I think we should all enter into the true spirit of this week and take our punishments as did the women a hundred years ago. Perhaps I should add a proviso, that because we will leave here at the end of the week and return to husbands and work, no punishment should leave permanent marks or be so severe we have to take time off from our jobs."

"If you’re all sure about this?" Margaret questioned the others, "I can agree with that." The others, some reluctantly it seemed, nodded their agreement. "Jeremy?"

"If they are all agreed, then I don’t see why not, although I am not certain they really know what they are agreeing to. They may wish to change their minds after you’ve dealt with Shelly."

"Ladies gather round where you can see. Most punishments were given in front of everyone as an example to of what could happen to them. The same now applies to you." Margaret raised the hem of Shelly’s skirt and pulled it high over the woman’s back to reveal a plump bottom barely covered by thin cotton knickers. "This is going to hurt Shelly. I know that from personal experience. In fact this is the first time I’ve been on the handle end of the tawse." Standing to one side she cracked it across both of Shelly’s bum cheeks.

"Aaaaghh!!" Even though Margaret hand not put her full force behind the blow it stung Shelly far more than she anticipated.

Margaret raised her arm give take another stroke when Stella stepped forward. "One moment Ma’am. We need to see the result of each strap mark and to be authentic she should take it on the bare bum." Stella yanked Shelly’s knickers down to below her knees. Positioned as she was everyone had a clear view not only of the red stripe but of Shelly’s dark bush, her cunt and arsehole.

"Stella, you bitch..."

"What did I say about your language Shelly?" Margaret snapped.

"Sorry, please no more."

"That will be for Stella to decide when I’ve finished but as you don’t seem very recalcitrant I will put a little more power into the ones I’m giving you."

"CRACK!!" The tawse laid another red stripe over the white buttocks and elicited another scream from the recipient. "CRACK!!"

"CRACK!!" "CRACK!!" Shelly was sobbing now and pleading for Margaret to stop. This wasn’t how she imagined the tawse would feel. During the pause, which Margaret allowed Shelly to recover a little, she looked at the other ladies. All seemed to be breathing heavily and the faces of many were flushed red. By the time she had completed the eight Shelly was sobbing loudly and some of her friends were about to step in and stop any further punishment. Somehow Margaret’s look managed to prevent them and she handed the tawse to Stella.

"Two from you to finish," she ordered. Stella hesitated, uncertain as to whether she should or shouldn’t use the tawse on her friend. Then her mind said, "You’ll never get the chance again," and she laid on two quite light strokes in quick succession. "Undo her ankles Stella please." Margaret undid her wrists and helped her Shelly stand. "It’s over Shelly. Now you know what it really feels like to be punished. Mind you that is far less than some of the strappings I’ve had so think yourself lucky you’ve got off lightly. Your slate is wiped clean and we will do what we can to minimise the pain. Stella will help you to your room."

"While every one is here," Jeremy called for attention, "I think you will all understand this has put a totally new dimension to your week here. Watching you ladies as Shelly received her punishment, I could see you were flushed with, shall we call it ‘excitement?’ Always before we have played pit-a-pat with life in the Workhouse. Today for the first time we approached realism. Ladies you must decide whether you wish to continue with this more realistic week or whether we should revert to verbal reprimands or giving extra chores to you. If you wish it to be real, you are all at risk of being bent over the chair and baring your bottoms for the strap or worse. You have to decide. I suggest that we get this kitchen cleaned up quickly before your tutor arrives and then in the period after lunch and before the afternoon session starts, you all get together in the lounge and agree which way you wish to go. Kathy, you seem to be the leader or organiser of this group, perhaps you would like to act as spokesman for them." Kathy nodded.

Stella led Shelly to her room, laid her face down on the bed and again bared her bottom. Margaret followed a few paces behind carrying a white towel. "Wet this with cold water Stella, and place it over her bottom. Rinse it after five minutes and then I’ll come back with some cream and a couple of Anadin’s. Turning to Shelly she spoke quietly. "The next half an hour will be the worst. After that it will hurt when you move or sit down hard. When the painkillers kick in, try and move about. I’ll come and talk to you again in a bit. Don’t be too hard on me. Remember you asked for it and it could have been far, far worse."

She was heartened when Shelly smiled weakly and said, "I’ll believe you, Thousands wouldn’t!"

Half an hour later, Margaret returned to Shelly’s bedside. "Go to your lesson now Stella. It will start in a few minutes. I’ll stay with Shelly for a bit until she’s ready to move. Guess we’re not being very authentic again. After a little tickle like that, she would probably have been raped and sent be back to work."

"You’re not going to hurt her more, are you Ma’am?" Stella looked concerned.

"No Stella. I’ll bring her down in a bit."

When they were alone Margaret questioned Shelly as to her motives. "You more or less asked for the strapping Shelly, and you became quite wet especially at first. Were you stimulated by it? Tell me the truth now. Remember I have been through it too." She raised her dress and lowered her knickers to show Shelly the now fading cane stripes that Jeremy applied the previous weekend. "I asked or at least acquiesced to having them because I get stimulated sexually by it. It stimulates Jeremy too so we can satisfy each other. What about you?"

"Yes," Shelly said slowly, "Stella and I do it but she’s a bit timid. We only spank or use a slipper but she never seems to want to hurt me like I want it. I didn’t expect you to go as far as you did though. It hurt much more than I expected. Or perhaps I didn’t know what to expect."

"Stella services you afterwards?"

"Yes, or we do each other."

"I’ll service you if you like and then maybe we’ll go down and have a cuppa. That’s not authentic either but still." Margaret gently opened the woman’s thighs and massaged her mound and clit and when Shelly started to moan with arousal, Margaret placed her mouth over the displayed cunt and licked and sucked her to a climax. Later Shelly walked painfully down to the kitchen and then to the workroom where she preferred to stand to work. Her companions greeted her with some concern at first but then reverted to good-natured banter. "What colour is your bum now Shelly?" "Did the little dragon kiss it better?" "Will you want a warm breakfast tomorrow?" Shelly responded with her usual good humour. The poor tutor didn’t really know what to make of it all.

*****

"What have you decided Kathy?" Jeremy asked.

"Can I talk freely, not as an inmate?"

"Yes, this is 2003 now not 1853."

"If we are given reassurances that when we leave here on Saturday, we won’t be permanently harmed or need to stay away from work on Monday we voted 5 to 1 in favour of keeping to the realistic workhouse regime. We felt that the fear of getting punished might add a little excitement to the week and would certainly make it different from all the other craft weeks we’ve spent together."

"Did Shelly vote against it?" Margaret asked.

"No. In fact she argued strongly in its favour. Perhaps she hopes to see others punished like she was."

"I hope she also knows she could receive another dose too," interrupted Jeremy.

"That was pointed out to her. But it was Janet who voted against it. She didn’t want to go with it. I think it was because she has never been beaten and couldn’t bear to show her bottom in public. We pointed out that most of us hadn’t been beaten either and she would have to go along with the majority decision. If she refused any punishment she deserved, the rest of us would be duty bound to assist you in carrying it out. I think she actually wants it but needs to be forced."

"I guess everyone will have to be on their best behaviour now or my strap will get some more use," grinned Margaret.

"That was another point that was raised," Kathy went on, "We don’t know all the rules so we might inadvertently break them. Perhaps you could go through them this evening and until then only heed the ones we’ve been told of so far, Like not swearing and being on time for meals and doing our roster jobs. Also Shelly mentioned there was a journal giving some of the punishments that were carried out here. Perhaps you could allow us to read it and find out what life was really like." Margaret had mentioned the journal to Shelly when she was comforting her earlier but hadn’t mentioned the true nature of the content.

"I don’t think I dare let you all read it," Margaret answered, "Many of you would find it disgustingly pornographic. It was written in code because the practices that went on were not only illegal then, they are today. The Saturday punishments were inflicted in front of guests who raped and used the services of the other woman here and paid for the pleasure so this place was almost a brothel. The master collected the money to help pay the running costs. Perhaps I should just read you some of the less public punishments that Alice used on the women here, perhaps soon after that special chair was made."

"Some of us might like the more salacious bits," laughed Kathy.

"You’d have to lie naked between us in bed for that and have a sore arse and tender titties," Jeremy laughed also but Margaret knew there was a serious invitation included it. Kathy picked up on it.

"Promises, promises!" Kathy giggled.

Chapter 30. The punishment chair

"Ladies," Jeremy started when they were all sitting comfortably in the lounge. Dinner was over and all the chores were done. It was after eight. Modern hour. "From now until bedtime, we will revert to ‘modern mode.’ You can talk freely and we are not Master and Mistress of the Workhouse. Sarah, your tutor is here with us and although staying in the house, she is not bound by our workhouse regulations at any time. If she was you might find a cane or a strap on her desk which she would use to encourage her less apt pupils."

"A strap-on might be enjoyable," commented Sally laughing. The others joined in the joke.

Jeremy smiled and tried to continue. "I think she was a little startled by the events of this morning but she hasn’t run off and is continuing with the course." Laughter. "You asked about life here in the nineteenth century and about the journal that was written at the time. As I told Kathy, I cannot let you read it without knowing a lot more about your sensibilities. Large proportions of the journal are devoted to the sexual use, probably you would say abuse, of the women here and what I am sure you would believe are the excessive punishments inflicted on them. However Margaret has agreed to read an entry to you concerning the christening of the chair Shelly was bent over and chastised in this morning. Josiah Winsberly who was master of the house for about ten years from January 1831 wrote the journal. Alice was his mistress and head of the house staff. Even though this is one of the milder entries, there are explicit descriptions of sexual activities some of you may find repugnant, others I’m sure, will find it titillating and arousing. As it is difficult to expurgate each chapter without re-writing the whole thing, Margaret will read it just as we translated it from this original journal." Jeremy showed them the old journal but didn’t let them handle the rather fragile book. "If any of you do not wish to hear the tale or are likely to be upset by the way the women were thrashed and raped by several men afterwards, please leave now. It will make Shelly’s ordeal seem like a gentle pat on the bum."

No one moved. Margaret began.

‘October 5th 1831

Carsons delivered the new punishment chair yesterday and I was resolved that Rachel Clements would be the one to christen it.’

"Carsons was the village carpenter and he made the bar horse in the punishment room at the local Squire’s expense and then made the oak punishment bench and the whipping frame as payment for taking one of the women as his wife," Margaret explained and then continued with the tale.

‘Rachel is the widow of Clem Clements a farm worker gored by a bull. They lived in a tied cottage on the farm and Dick Pawsey the farmer, needed the cottage for another worker and his family so he threw her out a few weeks later. Homeless she came here with her few possessions but so far she hasn’t really fitted in, She resents not having her own home and being subjected to our rules.’

"Like some of us," smiled Shelly.

‘She’s a portly woman with large bosoms and not used to showing her body to others. It took Jack, two ladies and a few strokes of Alice’s strap before she would strip for her introduction to the others when she arrived. Jack I know has ploughed her cunnie twice but said it was a struggle to hold her and then he’d had to give her a good hand spanking each time before she settled down. Apart from that she has done what she has been told to do. No more, no less, but she always does it sourly and speaks to the other ladies sharply and in a superior way so they are beginning to shun her.

Fridays being bath day here, in the afternoon the copper in the scullery is filled with water and the fire lit. We set the big tin bath in the kitchen and I use it first, then Alice. Jack follows and then the ladies follow in the order that Alice or I determine. As I have written before, I place great store by personal cleanliness and personally inspect every woman while her body is bathed and especially check her genital areas. This no longer bothers the longer term residents, indeed many open their legs wider than needed and encourage me to play with their cunnies.’

"That sounds like an interesting way to bath," interrupted Kathy.

‘Rachel being the latest arrival to the Workhouse, was last to bathe. I could tell she was seething with anger at what I was doing to the others. We added more hot water to the bath as we always do before a new person gets in but she complained the water was filthy from washing all the others. It was indeed somewhat murky but several more at least could have bathed in it so I told her to hold her tongue and get in. Alice’s hand was on her strap, which quickened her response. Katherine was doing the washing on this occasion and had done Rachel’s hair, face and was working on her titties. Rachel’s breasts are in proportion to the rest of her so there is plenty of meat on them but they sag a little. Knowing I like to see a woman’s breasts being moved around, Katherine washed them quite vigorously and held them up for my inspection. I gave the teats a squeeze and Rachel growled between closed teeth but didn’t say anything. I knew she was holding back her anger but didn’t expect her to lash out like she did a few moments later. Katherine continued washing the woman and when she’s finished to the feet, as normal she asked Rachel to stand so she could clean her bottom and cunnie. Reluctantly she did so but when I put my fingers inside the bush covering her mound, suddenly her hand flew out and boxed my ears, sending me to the floor. As I stood a little dazed from the blow, I heard Alice call for Jack.’

"Who was Jack?" Kathy enquired.

"He was the assistant master. A big man. Big built and big in the man department according to earlier accounts," Margaret answered. "A bit slow but loyal to Josiah."

"Will we be bathed in the kitchen on Friday?" giggled Sally.

"And be inspected for cleanliness by Jeremy?" added Mary. There was some general laughter at this thought.

Jeremy smiled too, "You wanted realism and we wouldn’t want you to go home smelling would we? There’s a galvanised bath still hanging in the scullery although I think it is a replacement several times removed from the one used in 1831. The copper still works too. We used it last winter during a power cut."

"As Master of this Workhouse Jeremy, you know you would have to be the first to be washed," Kathy pointed out.

"And Margaret would have to go next," Sally chipped in.

"I suppose tutors go after?" Sarah seemed to be getting into the good humour of the discussion.

"I bags doing the washing," Shelly put her hand up.

"Sounds like you are all keen to show your bodies to each other, or perhaps you do that at other meetings? You sure you are only a craft group?" Jeremy commented, "Perhaps we’ll see on Friday how badly you all smell and decide then on the bathing arrangements. Now let Margaret continue with her tale."

‘When I had recovered a little and Jack held the woman securely I ordered, "Put her in the whipping frame, and shut the door. We’ll leave her to cool down till after dinner." By then I had cooled down a little too and decided not to keep her for birching at the Squire’s the next day but to try out the new chair later that evening. I sent word to Reverend Jenkins and the Barker’s at the orphanage as they were close by and I knew would enjoy the entertainment. I guessed Jenkins would be especially pleased to see one of his congregation naked and whipped.

So we assembled in the punishment room at 8:30. Jack unfastened her from the whipping frame and despite her apologies and pleas we strapped her down over the chair. As Martha had told me, it was an admirable device. It holds a woman with her buttocks at a goodly height and both holes revealed and ready to use. Bent over....’

"Oh my God!" Shelly burst out, suddenly thinking how she must have been displayed to the others.

"Yes, you were well on display Shelly," Stella confirmed, "Both holes revealed and ready to use." Shelly blushed with embarrassment while the others laughed at her.

"Sounds as if I should have arrived earlier," Sarah the tutor laughed, "I missed all the sights."

"You certainly did that," laughed Kathy, "But it might have put you off teaching for the day."

Margaret tried to carry on. ‘Bent over with her hands strapped to the front legs a woman’s breasts hang down and move nicely when her body reacts to the strap or birch. Rachel’s hung like cow’s udders and I could see they would do a merry dance later.’

"I think I ought to point out here," Margaret paused in her narrative, "That even for minor punishments where just lifting the skirt would have been sufficient like we did this morning, the ladies were stripped naked. This was partly for humiliation and partly for the sexual delight of the master and his guests. It seems too that the other ladies living here enjoyed it provided it wasn’t them that were being punished."

‘I pulled on her nipples and in return received a torrent of verbal abuse. "Rachel," I said to her, "You know the rules here do not allow swearing. I think you will now find my toying with your titties is preferable to what I am ordering Alice to do to them now." I nodded to Alice who swung her strap upwards flattening her left breast and eliciting a powerful scream. I could see now why Carsons had made the semi-circular cut-outs in the sides of the chair seat. They were just deep enough to allow the tip of Alice’s belt to clear the seat and still cover a breast.’

"They hit her boobs!" Shelly exclaimed. "I saw those cut-out and couldn’t make out why they were there. It seemed an odd shape for a seat. I wasn’t naked though."

"They regularly seem to have whipped the ladies tits," Jeremy commented.

"That must be so painful." Shelly hugged her chest.

"It is but if it is not done overly hard, it does make you horny," Margaret answered.

"You’ve tried it Margaret?" Shelly asked.

Margaret just nodded and turned back to the journal to stop further questions.

‘I could see now why Carsons had made the semi-circular cut-outs in the sides of the chair seat. They were just deep enough to allow the tip of Alice’s belt to clear the seat and still cover a breast. I wondered if he tested the chair on Janey first. Working alternately from each side, Alice applied three stinging strokes to each pendulous tittie. This really made the woman holler and beg for us to stop. I allowed the other ladies to get a close look and a feel of the reddened titties, which humiliated the woman even more.

I kindly let Rachel rest there for some minutes to recover before starting the real punishment on her arse. "Warm her bum with your strap Alice. Two dozen good ones should do nicely and then I’ll use the birch rods. Her bum’s large enough to take a good thrashing and she has to learn to behave while she is here." Margaret paused. How would you have liked two dozen good ones Shelly?" Shelly shook her no. ‘Alice cracked her strap soundly over the white flesh in front of her instantly changing it to deep red. Rachel bucked and yelled and her titties did indeed dance nicely. The other ladies encouraged Alice to lay it on even harder for they had no love of the woman either. Again we allowed Rachel to have a short rest which gave the onlookers a chance to examine and feel the warmed bottom. Some pushed their fingers into the woman’s holes. I didn’t discourage them. I wanted her to know she was no better than the others here. I could see the Reverend and Jason Barker had bulges in their breeches so I decided to continue lest they shoot their loads early. Alice had done such a good job with her strap I could see I would not be able to apply too many with the birch without breaking the skin or causing the woman to pass out. Still I was determined she would wear the welts from the birch for a week or two. I thought she might possibly take a dozen with the six-rod birch and this proved true. I welted her flesh from about the knees to the top of her bottom and made sure the tips caught her cunnie several times. At first she screamed so loud she almost deafened us but that soon became hoarse groans and after the twelfth stroke she passed out. Smelling salts brought her round again.

As is courteous, I offered my two male guests first chance to roger her and the Reverent Jenkins took her first, thrusting deeply into her each time. His prick isn’t all that large but he rammed it in real hard so his loins slapped forcefully against her arse causing her to cries to ring out once more. Sara sucked him clean.’

"I can see this tale is getting you all horny," smiled Margaret, "So perhaps I should point out the Josiah Winsberly when he came to the workhouse, instituted a rule that women had to suck and clean a man’s cock after sex. However, when a woman had been beaten and then raped like Rachel, he deemed in that condition with tears streaming down her face, she didn’t do a very good job so one of the onlookers performed that service."

"Urgh! Gross!" Stella groaned and looked disgusted.

"It very pleasing to the man," Jeremy said, "And the women didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Certainly it was less painful than refusing."

Margaret again continued. ‘Jason decided her bottom hole would suit him better and asked Alice for some dripping which she provided. He lubricated himself and Rachel’s hole and thrust in. She was very tight and it took several attempts before he gained entry but once in, he too performed hard and fast causing Rachel to cry out. Gwendolyn his wife, egged him on but he didn’t last long before Katherine had to clean him. I decided to go before Jack, as his large prick would make her rather loose. I took her and found her tighter than I expected a widow would be. Perhaps Clem hadn’t been poking his rod in as often as he should. Jack immediately followed me and then we released the woman. Alice ordered Jack to carry her to her room but Gwendolyn stopped her saying, "That woman has milked my husband so he won’t be able to perform with me tonight or at least till morning so she should service me before she rests." I of course agreed and Gwendolyn sat on the front of a chair, lifted her skirt and exposed her cunnie. I pushed Rachel’s face into it and bade her do a good job or she would have be arse warmed again. After a short while Gwendolyn seemed satisfied and pushed her away. Jack then carried the woman to her room and Alice followed to treat her soreness.’

"You got off very lightly Shelly," Kathy remarked.

"It didn’t seem like it," retorted Shelly.

"If any of us are punished this week, will we have to strip naked?" Janet asked.

"And be raped afterwards?" giggled Sally.

"I wouldn’t dare rape any of you," Jeremy answered, "But if you requested the service beforehand, I would oblige. As to your being naked, I think it would add a bit of spice to it. You’ll be showing most of the bits you usually keep hidden anyway, but you would have to decide as a group like you did earlier. It should be decided before anyone gets to be punished. Do you wish to debate it between yourselves or give a show of hands" They decided to debate it.

"Jeremy and I will go and make drinks for everyone and you can discuss it then. One more thing, I can see from your faces that my reading the story has made you horny too. Lesbianism is tolerated here. We will not mind who sleeps with who provided you are down to breakfast on time with your room tidied. Sorry, I’m not loaning Jeremy out. I’ll need him."

"Shame on you," Kathy called as Margaret left the room.

Chapter 31. Kathy in the punishment chair

"Oh shit! Bugger it! Now I’ve fucking ruined it! Sod, sod, sod!" Kathy’s outburst silenced the chatter in the workroom. "All the trouble I’ve had putting that bloody doll right this morning and then I go and sit on the sodding thing! It’s totally knackered now." Moments later as Kathy realised what she had said, she apologised to Sarah.

"We’ll get to see your bum warmed tonight," laughed Sally. The others joined in with their comments and suggestions. "Are you going to let Sir rape you?" "There must have been a dozen swear words in that outburst, you’ll get that many this time." "You voted for being naked for the strapping so we’ll get to see your tits jiggle."

"Quiet ladies!" Sarah shouted above the noise and laughter although she too had difficulty in containing her mirth. "Quieten down otherwise there will be more than one bum being warmed tonight."

"You’re not going to tell Sir are you, Miss Sarah?" Kathy pleaded, "You know all the trouble I’ve had with that piece and then I get it more or less right only to ruin it completely. I’ve broken all the main straw framework now."

"I have to. If you get away with it, the others will expect to as well. You’ll just have to see how nice you can be to Jeremy and Margaret." Sarah replied and then added seeing Kathy was likely to have another outburst, "Calm down Kathy. It will only make things worse it you start making a fuss. You all agreed to this and in fact you were one of those most for it. Go and wash your face and we’ll see what we can do about the corn dolly."

*****

"Come into the office please Kathy. We have a few minutes before lunch. Sarah has told me what happened and I hope you are willing to go along with the punishment same as Shelly did, except you all agreed to be punished nude. Sarah tells me you showed regret for you temper burst and apologised to her. I understand the problems you had and also you have agreed to do the work again starting immediately after you finish lunch and Sarah is willing to help you. Is that so?"

"Yes, Sir." Kathy replied keeping to the spirit of the headmaster pupil relationship.

"You know how we view swearing in this workhouse and the punishment for it. Before I decide on the number of strokes, are you willing to be ‘raped’ afterwards? That could have a bearing on the punishment you get."

"You mean if I allow you to have sex with me, the number gets reduced?"

"Me and any guests I invite and yes, I would take that into consideration. Yes, indeed."

"Do I have to make up my mind now?"

"No, but before the punishment starts. At the moment I am thinking of ten strokes, reducing to six provided I get a satisfactory report from Sarah later today. And you don’t mention any of this to the others. Let them guess what your punishment will be until it is announced after dinner is finished tonight."

*****

"Ladies may I introduce Theresa Harris and her husband Jim who are invited as guests to witness this evening’s entertainment. They are friends of ours and I am sure they will appreciate tonight’s entertainment. Kathy has agreed to be punished in the traditional way for her appalling behaviour this morning. To show you all this behaviour will not be tolerated, I am ordering Margaret to administer six strokes of her strap. All strokes to be delivered to the bare buttocks and applied with such force as to be remembered for a long while." Jeremy stood with the others in the punishment room. Kathy was shaking. Now the time had come for the punishment to begin, she was fearful that she had made a mistake by agreeing to it. In truth there was no reason why she couldn’t refuse point blank but she would lose so much face in front of the others, she would never live it down and Shelly especially would carp on about it for ever and a day.

"I have tried to reproduce the scene, as far as I can, for a punishment entertainment evening described by Josiah Winsberly about one hundred and seventy years ago. Imagine if you will, the atmosphere then. Our electric candles would have been real, flickering and smoky. Even with the few real candles I have alight and the two oil lanterns, and the old iron vent in the wall open you can smell and feel the smoke. Imagine the room with twice as many people crowded in, most gossiping and discussing the impending birchings. Feel the smoke from many more candles and the men’s pipes stinging your eyes. See the group of naked women standing by the wall over there waiting for their turn to be thrashed and raped. Each of them with their hands tied to one of the rings you can see set in the wall. For them the atmosphere must have seemed bizarre and very frightening. They would know they would go to bed very sore that night. They would know too, the onlookers, both male and female would do all they could to encourage the master or mistress to lay on the strokes ever harder. They would know their pain and screams would delight and stimulate the men and even the women to do excessive sexual things to them later. Ladies and Jim please do your best to recreate that atmosphere by cheering on Mistress Margaret when she applies the strap to our miscreant’s bottom."

There was a little applause before Jeremy went on, "The time has come Kathy, please remove your clothes and place them on the chair here." Kathy hesitated, very uncertain now. "Kathy, you agreed to this in front of your friends. I am sure they will assist me to undress you if necessary."

"Yes, we will," called out Shelly, "I had to take more than you are getting." Slowly Kathy did as requested and stood naked in front of them, her white skin showing clearly in the light of the oil lamps. Her skin reddened as she saw the eyes of everyone looking at her. She knew they were looking at her tits but she was quite proud of them. At forty-four years old, they had barely begun to sag. They were looking at her pubic hair and her bottom too but for the moment they couldn’t see her cunt. That would change as soon as she was bent over the chair.

"Over the chair now Kathy," Jeremy ordered

"Nooo," Kathy started

"Refuse and the punishment is doubled," Jeremy whispered in her ear. She bent over and allowed her ankles and then her wrists to be fastened. "There’s no going back now Kathy." Jeremy played with her tits. "I think Mistress Margaret ought to tickle these too for your saying ‘no’ to me just now. Just a couple of light flicks to each Margaret if you will." Margaret brought the strap upwards and caught Kathy’s right breast with two stinging but not severe blows. Even so they were hard enough to make Kathy cry out, Margaret repeated the strapping to the left breast.

Facing his audience again, Jeremy continued with his spiel. "From the tale we read you the other night, you will know gentlemen of that era delighted in punishing the tits of their women, not just reddening them a little like Kathy’s here." He cupped Kathy’s right breast and showed it to everyone, "But thoroughly whipping them with birch rods or with leather whips. A little whipping there makes many girls horny, something I hope has happened to Kathy, but a hard whipping is painful for a long while. You will have an opportunity to feel this pair when the rest of her strapping is over. Now let us move the lamps so Margaret can see the bum cheeks she is to stripe and if you all move round you can see clearly the stripes as they appear. Ladies, feel free to put your hands inside your knickers and masturbate yourself or a friend. Don’t forget to cheer Margaret on."

Margaret took up a position to one side of Kathy’s posterior. "Take note on how well the bottom area is displayed," Jeremy went on, "And notice how white the flesh is now and compare it with the colour it will be later on." Kathy’s body again infused with red as her whole body blushed with embarrassment. She knew everyone was looking into her vagina and could probably detect the wetness. "Look now ladies and gentleman, the colour is changing before even one stroke is applied however the colouring will be much deeper in a few minutes. Ready yourself Mistress Margaret. Move back just a little ladies so she can get a good swing with the strap. We don’t want Shelly complaining her strapping was much harder than Kathy’s."

Margaret raised the strap and was about to bring it down when Theresa shouted, "Wait Margaret. If you are mimicking Alice in the stories and putting on a good display for the onlookers, should you not remove your blouse and do the thrashing bare titted?"

Margaret hesitated, not because she was shy but because Jeremy had used the tittie clamps last night and had tickled them with a small cane. They were still a little swollen and the stripes were clear. "Good idea Theresa," Jeremy agreed, "Show everyone you get treated the same as they do Margaret." A gasp went up when her breasts criss-crossed with fine lines, came into view.

Deciding put a brave face on it, Margaret stood up straight and thrust her breasts forward so all could see. "I can confirm that warming a woman’s tits does make her horny. I can also confirm, although I hasten to add, not from Jeremy’s attentions, that thrashing them has the reverse affect and all you can think about for days is finding ways to ease the pain. Now I think we’ve kept Kathy waiting long enough."

Heedless of her own swinging breasts and remembering the story of Alice’s theatrical performance, Margaret raised the strap high and swung it in a wide arc to crash loudly on Kathy’s unprotected arse. Immediately a loud yell came from the recipient and a broad red mark appeared across both bum cheeks, broken in the centre by the crease in her buttocks.

"My God, Ma’am. Not so hard," shouted Kathy.

"One!" Margaret intoned, ignoring Kathy’s plea.

"Crack!!!" "Two." "Crack!!" "Three."

Kathy writhed and struggled in her bonds but there was no way she was going to free herself. The movements, to the onlookers' delight, just caused her tits to sway and her arse to move sexily.

"Halfway Kathy," Jeremy remarked and then to the others, "As I said earlier, feel free to play with your cunnies and boobs, or anyone else’s for that matter. Remember these sessions were not just for punishment, they were for the titillation of the onlookers and the more titillation the better to provide funds for the workhouse. Tonight though, the show is free."

"Crack!!!" "Crack!!!" "Crack!!!" Margaret applied the last three is quick succession, not bothering to count. At the finish she bowed and was applauded.

"Jim, as you are our guest, as is the tradition you are invited to take your pleasure with her first," Jeremy announced to the throng. The ladies hadn’t been told of the ‘rape.’ Janet started to protest but Margaret whispered that it was okay but she still looked as if she might intervene. Jim opened his flies and let his hardness jut out. Theresa produced a condom from her purse and put it on him.

"Give it to the bitch good and hard dear. She needs it," Theresa exhorted her husband. He needed no second telling. To the accompaniment of comments on his equipment and what he should do with it from the ladies, Jim slipped his cock in Kathy’s cunt and finding her already wet proceeded to fuck her with long hard strokes. Each time his loins hit her bottom so Kathy moaned and cried out.

Shelly started a chant that was taken up by the others, "Ram it ---IN!" "Ram it ---IN!" "Ram it ---IN!" All in time with Jim’s thrusts. However with all the stimulation, Jim didn’t last long and shot his load into the condom teat.

"Which of you ladies is going to offer your services to clean Jim’s prick?" asked Jeremy. There was a perceptible shuffle to the back of the room until Margaret came forward and took the condom off and sucked him clean.

Jeremy meanwhile opened his trousers and unashamedly showed the ladies his weapon. There were murmurs of "Nice one." "Wish my man had one like that." And many other similar comments. "You ought to make sure Kathy sees it," Stella suggested, "She’ll want to know what went inside her." Jeremy did as requested and then tore the foil packet open and covered his prick. Still well lubricated it went in easily and Jeremy used his expertise to vary his strokes and give Kathy some pleasure. It wasn’t long before she climaxed several times in a row and finally Jeremy allowed himself to climax too.

"Who is going to clean me?" he asked fully expecting Margaret would have to perform again. "Perhaps Theresa will volunteer?" and it seemed as if she was about to when Sarah said quietly, "I’ll do it." It was a surprise to everyone.

Sarah didn’t waste any time. Quickly the condom came off and was knotted then her hand fished out his balls. "Please sit down, Sir," she said. When he complied, Sarah took his prick into her mouth and worked it over with considerable skill and obvious enjoyment. Not only did she use her mouth to suck on his shaft, she used her tongue to lick his ball sack.

"Until Sarah has finished, I suggest you feel Kathy’s bum and play with her so that you know what to expect if you misbehave in the next few days." Jeremy’s suggestion was taken up and Kathy soon had four of the ladies fingering her and playing with her tits. This continued for five minutes or so until Jeremy ordered her release.

"Take her to her room Stella please," Margaret ordered, "And I’ll bring towels and stuff to treat her bottom.

"Wait a moment." Theresa voice cut in once more, "The girl has milked my husband dry so he won’t be able to service me tonight so she’ll have to do it." The ladies remembered that part of the story and when Theresa lifted her skirt to reveal no underwear and a bald cunt, they thrust Kathy’s mouth onto it. Kathy being no stranger to lesbian sex quickly brought the already very aroused woman to her climax.

*****

"Knock, knock." Knock, knock."

"Come in," Margaret called out sleepily as she switched on the bedroom light. Kathy stepped in the bedroom, a light robe around her otherwise naked body.

"You said to come and see you if I needed some comfort......"

"Sally not available?" Margaret asked.

"Selfish bitch went to sleep after she got off but I’m still warm and horny as well as sore down there. I hope you meant what you said."

"Get that robe off and get in here then," Jeremy spoke for the first time since she entered. As she climbed over them and lifted the covers, Kathy noticed they were naked too and Jeremy’s prick was soft alongside his leg.

Margaret stopped her as she slid down under the sheet. "Oooh that’s a nice warm bottom and a nice warm cunnie. I think you ought to lay down the other way round so we can have its warmth against our faces." Kathy knew her meaning and slid head first down under the sheets stopping when her lips touched Jeremy’s prick. She felt her legs being parted and a tongue thrust into her cunt. "That must be Sir," she thought as she took his prick right into her mouth and avidly started sucking. Then another pair of lips caressed her tender bottom, kissing and sucking over the tender areas and ending at her arsehole. The tongue entered. At first Kathy was disgusted at the thought of anyone putting their tongue in there but soon the delightful sensations overcame the repugnance and she climaxed again and again. Under the ministrations of her mouth, Jeremy became hard but because he’d cum in Margaret a little earlier and had taken Kathy before that, he didn’t cum again. Kathy was a little disappointed but eventually all of them drifted off to sleep.

Kathy woke first and from her somewhat uncomfortable position head down under the bedclothes, had no idea of the time. She felt Jeremy’s prick hard against her face. "He’s got a piss hard on," she thought, "I wonder if he’ll wake if I suck it again?" For a while she gently sucked, enjoying the feel of a man’s cock in her mouth. Until last night it had been a long time. Sally was nice and they had good times together but sometimes she wanted the real thing. Jeremy moved. The clock showed 4:32. He felt the mouth around his prick and knew what Kathy was doing. As gentle as he was in parting Kathy’s thighs again, the movement woke Margaret. "What’s up Jeremy?"

"She’s horny again and sucking my prick. I think she wants fucking."

"Do it then. I can have you almost any time."

Kathy’s head emerged and they laid her on top of the bed. "I want to watch what you two get up to," stated Margaret as she pulled Kathy’s knees alongside her head. Jeremy pushed his prick straight in. There was no need for foreplay. All the sucking she had done had aroused her so she was dripping wet. As usual he was able to control himself and gave Kathy and long and varied fuck. Kathy had wrapped her legs around his neck and was thrusting back to meet him. Margaret helped by massaging her breasts and squeezing her nipples. Never had she had sex like this. It was out of this world. All too soon Jeremy shot his load deep inside her and they all collapsed is a sweaty tangle of limbs.

"Oh my God, Jeremy. We didn’t use protection." Kathy now back and down to earth was alarmed.

"I’ll douche you after you’ve cleaned him up and I’ve had a little taste of you. You really are a little sex pot." Margaret laughed.

The three dozed for a while until the alarm went and Margaret sent Kathy back to her own room. "Make sure your room is ready for inspection. You wouldn’t want another dose of the strap now would you?"

"I might. I just might if the after service is this good!" Kathy grinned as she left the room.

Chapter 32. Farthing’s ordeal

"Read us another story Margaret, please," Shelly begged. It had been two days since Kathy’s punishment but it was still the main topic of conversation especially during their evening ‘free period’ when they were allowed to be themselves and not inmates of a nineteenth century workhouse. Thanks to Stella, everyone knew Kathy had spent the night with their hosts but no one knew exactly what went on so speculation was rife. During the day everyone behaved themselves impeccably but made up for it during the two hours before ‘lights out’. Bawdy, salacious comments were bandied around but Kathy never revealed what actually happened. Each evening she was made to show her bottom and breasts to her friends so the could see how the colours changed and how tender the flesh was. Stella particularly seemed to like showing her friend's bottom to the others. Shelly too, was by no means shy when it came to revealing her bum. This was no where near as tender as earlier and she could sit with comparative ease.

A frequent topic and perhaps the one found most embarrassing, was having to use the chamber pot. There were bathrooms on each floor but they had been declared out of bounds between dinner and breakfast except for when they emptied the pots or for serious sickness. Any violation would immediately result in a punishment session, which so far no one had risked.

"We want a story!" "We want a story!" "We want a story!" "We want a story!" The ladies began a singing chant and clapping like young children wanting their mother to read to them before bed.

"All right children!" Margaret laughed, "Run and put your nightdresses on so you’re ready for bed afterwards and I’ll get the journal. Nightdresses only. I’ll do the same."

"You don’t wear one!" Kathy stated loudly, "And Jeremy doesn’t wear pyjamas either."

"Well if you want us naked, you will have to be too." Janet and Mary dissented. Kathy turned on them. "You all saw me well and truly butt arse naked. You saw everything and still want to see me at every opportunity. Now it’s your turn." Still the pair were reluctant.

Sarah came up with a compromise. "Let’s all wear a robe with nothing under and when Margaret starts we open them?"

"And when Jeremy gets a hard on, he takes his off and we follow suit," added Kathy and amid much laughter and more ribald comments they finally got the dissenting pair to agree.

*****

"This is quite a late entry in the Journal," Margaret explained. "Josiah seemed to start with good intentions of writing regularly, then it deteriorated into just giving fairly repetitive details of who was punished for the Saturday evening entertainments but there were some interesting later entries when out of the ordinary events occurred. This is one."

‘September 25th 1837

One of the sheriffs brought in a young waif a few days ago. At least then, that is what she seemed to be. She’d been picked up on the green lane not far from here. From her bruised and battered appearance it seemed she had been through a considerable ordeal. Both eyes had been blackened and she stood with some difficulty but she wouldn’t give her name. All Alice could get out of her and then very incoherently, was that three men had waylaid her and her man and killed him and robbed and raped her. They’d stolen their horses. Even from the brief description of the whereabouts of the house and the men, the sheriff’s man guessed the location and a posse raided the house and caught them burying the body. They are now in custody awaiting trial.

{Margin note. December 18th. The three men were hanged in front of Gyppeswick jail]

What remained of her clothing gave the appearance of being a servant so we assumed she was running away with the master’s son. It was later we discovered that the reverse was true. My wife Alice, sent two ladies to heat water in the copper and bring the bath in while we tried to get a name from her and she stubbornly refused.’

"I would add here," Margaret interrupted her narrative, "That although Josiah records in great detail events that occurred in this workhouse, he never mentions his marriage. This is the first of very few references to Alice being married to him. We know she was here when he arrived and became his mistress but for the most part she is just referred to as Alice. Parish church records show he married her on August 30th 1837."

‘From the state she was in, I knew beating her would get her to say more. Through the tears in her clothing we could see bruises and whip marks a plenty. Alice sat her at the table and gave her food and cordial while the water heated and produced a cushion when the woman winced as she sat. Sara and the others tried to talk with her but she remained silent except for short "Please and Thank you’s" when offered refreshment. Even so, I thought her voice more refined than a servant girl would use but knowing their propensity for mimicking their mistresses, I wasn’t overly concerned.

She made little fuss when I asked her to remove her clothes and step into the bath. It was then we saw the full extent of the thrashing she’d had. Most looked as if they had been inflicted with a single tail whip and many were deep enough to have produced blood. Her treatment had been far crueler than any I would have meted out. It was a great shame to see a beautiful young body marred by what would probably be permanent scars. Jake, the sheriff’s man who I summoned to return, was furious and threatened those responsible with dire punishment when they were caught. It wasn’t long before that happened.

The woman puzzled me too. Her skin was fine and her hands soft as if unused to hard work but my questions on that point went unanswered. Alice noticed the dried sperm down her legs and over her pubic hair and took a douche and cleaned her as best she could but it was probably too late to prevent any pregnancy if she was in her fertile period. Alice was worried that some of her wounds might be infected and this proved to be the case.

Katherine found her a light dress and we sat her in my soft chair by the stove although the weather was not really cold. She just stared blankly at the flames. As the ladies moved around her to get to the cooking, they spoke but the girl hardly moved. Occasionally a tear would flow down her cheek but there were no sobs or other cries. At our evening meal she ate a little but still nothing more than simple replies to non-personal questions. Soon all the others ceased speaking to her. Only Alice persisted but she just chattered inconsequentially about life here and then took her on a short tour inside the building but the girl had some difficulty now in walking. Sitting still had probably stiffened her sore muscles. Later she showed her our room and announced she would be sleeping with us that night. For a few moments that seem to startle her but she soon recovered.

There was still a red glow in the fire when we took in the light to ready for bed. "Lady," Alice started and then stopped. "Look here, if you won’t tell us your name I shall have to give you one. One of my own choosing." Still no word from the woman. "Right then, we will call you Farthing, because that was all we found in your dress. A copper farthing. In the morning I’ll introduce you to the others under that name so you have until then to change your mind about telling us." Silence. "Lay your dress over the chair and put your slippers under it. The piss pot is under the bed and I guess you must be desperate, as you haven’t been since you arrived this morning. Use it. Josiah will get real mad if you wet our bed." Naked again, Farthing had no choice but to comply and it soon became clear she had been bottling it for a long while. "You’ll sleep this side, I’ll be in the middle and Joss will take the other. Ignore what we get up to. You won’t be touched, not tonight anyway. If you need me to treat you during the night, just give me a shake."

When we’d all performed in the pot, and climbed under the blankets I took Alice lustily and she cried out her pleasures more loudly than normal. I knew she wanted to provoke a reaction from Farthing, whether good or bad. Still nothing. Nothing until I had turned the light down and the three of us lay side by side. Farthing started sobbing quietly and Alice gently clasped her to her bosom. I heard Alice whispering nothings into Farthing’s ear until I drifted off to sleep. Alice told me my snoring kept them awake a while longer but soon they too slept.

Next day was almost a repeat. Farthing answered to her new name and did such light work as we set her without complaint or murmur but we were still worried over the worsening state of the deep whip cuts. Still she tried to do the things we set even though they were painful. Only a few times did she have to ask how to do a task which puzzled me still more as all servants and children of working class parents would have learned these from a young age.

Alice started her curse that day and I decided to roger her bottom hole before settling down for the night. To facilitate entry I had Alice bend over the end of the bed and entered her without a problem. We’ve done it many times that way. Farthing seemed shocked and was forced to watch because Alice had spread her arms across the bed. She was even more distressed when Alice cleaned me afterwards. I guessed, rightly as it turned out, she been forced to do such things in a most unpleasant way.

Like the previous night, Alice cuddled her and spoke quietly in her ear until the both drifted into sleep. Sometime in the night quiet whispering awakened me and it wasn’t Alice’s voice I could hear. I pretended sleep but although my ears pricked up I could only catch an occasional word. Knowing that Alice would report to me fully in the morning I allowed myself to fall asleep once more.

Next morning it was with some impatience that I waited for breakfast to finish and Alice to set the ladies to work so I could have her alone. She picked up the accounts book which everyone would take as a signal that we didn’t wish to be disturbed.

"I’m very worried about her Joss. Those deep cuts across her back are full of the fire. She didn’t say much about her ordeal but I know who she is and a little of how she came to be here. For the time being I think we should keep it to ourselves." I nodded. Alice continued. "She is Jeanette Everinton, daughter of Lord and Lady Everinton of Balderwick in Lincolnshire. Jeanette fell in love with one of the grooms, a lad named Michael Jacobs. Father was furious when he found them together and dismissed the groom and forbade his daughter to have anything more to do with him. Seems this only made the girl more determined and she would dress as a servant and clandestinely meet with Michael. After nearly being caught together a second time they made plans to elope and get married on the continent. She being only nineteen is still too young to wed here without her parents consent. So they headed for Gyppeswick and planned to take a boat from there. She brought all her jewellery and as much money as she could lay her hands on and borrowed a pair of horses. As they neared us, three armed men sprang from the trees and robbed them and made free with her. Michael jumped at the men to protect her but they shot him dead in front of her eyes. Knowing they needed to make a quick departure from that spot Michael was laid across his horse and Jeanette was dragged and whipped along farm tracks until they came to a house. Here the men abused her, we can guess what she meant by that, for two days. On the third day one of the men took some of her money and rode off and came back with flagons of liquor and they got very drunk. They passed out and Jeanette was able to free herself and make her escape to Pennydelset. One of the sheriff’s men spotted her and brought her here. You know what the sheriff’s men found. That’s about it Joss. What do we do now?"

I thought for a short while before replying. "For the time being, we’ll keep the other ladies in the dark over her identity. I will write a note to Lord and Lady Everinton and depending on their reply, will do what seems best." I wrote the note and went into town and forwarded it by courier. For the rest of the day, Farthing spoke a little more to the others but as Alice cautioned her, still never mentioned what happened or her real name. Some of the open whip marks didn’t seem to be responding to our treatments and we had to call in the doctor to excise and clean them. She took this painful process with some fortitude but afterwards had to be confined to our bed and her opened wounds bathed hourly.’

"I need to get a drink," Margaret put the journal down, took her reading glasses off and looked around. She was the only one still with a robe on!

"We’ll make them," Kathy said as she and Stella stood up.

"Yeah but I’ll need to wash my sticky fingers first after they’ve been in your twat," grinned Stella.

‘That night,’ Margaret continued with the reading, ‘we feared she might be sinking fast. Alice continued to bathe her and put cold compresses on the fiery areas. We kept the light on all night and had little sleep. Farthing became delirious sometime in the early hours. Alice slid herself under Farthing so their two bodies were in close contact, hoping some of her life essence would help the ailing girl. It seemed at least to soothe and comfort her. Her ramblings ceased for a while and then she started to speak with complete clarity and thank us for what we were doing for her. I feared this might be her last chance to speak before meeting her maker. Alice must have thought so too

"You loved Michael Jacobs deeply didn’t you Farthing?" Alice asked.

"Yes. Now he is gone. I will see him soon."

"Have you known him for a long while?" Alice prompted

Farthing lay still for a while and then started talking as if reliving the whole of the traumatic events. I will write these from memory and without all the hesitations and weeping that punctuated her story.

"We grew up together, played together as children. His father was head ostler and when he was old enough Michael worked with the horses too. He would get my horse ready for me and take care of him when I came back. As we grew older and I had a bigger horse he would help me mount and when no one was around he would feel my bottom and he pushed me up. From childhood I had liked him but our more loving relationship started last Christmas. I went into the stables on Christmas eve noon. Michael was there and as soon as I entered and was out of view of the door he produced a sprig of mistletoe and demanded a kiss. The first peck became an ever-longer one and I kissed him back. Eventually we had to part and because of others in the courtyard I reprimanded him for not having my tack ready. However the mistletoe was not necessary when I returned but we didn’t have long. After that things developed and I visited him in the hayloft when I could and at Easter we loved for the first time. It was nice, like you and Josiah. We saw each other whenever we could but in August father caught us loving in the woods. He was very angry and struck Michael with a crop several times and dismissed him from our service. This did not end our relationship. He went to live with an aunt in the village and through the mother of one of our maids, I arranged meetings. Again we were caught and father threatened Michael with jail if he ever so much as saw me. I pleaded, cried and demanded my father let me see him, all to no avail. Mother was no help either although I don’t think she agreed with what father was doing. As punishment I was locked in my room for a week and only allowed out for the Harvest Ball. Father wished to show me off to other more eligible men. So I made plans and slipped away from the ball a little early, dressed in servant's clothes and a cloak and went down the back stairs and out to the stables. When other guests started to leave and there was a lot of confusion with carriages and horses being brought to the front door I took my horse and another and went through the woods way to the village. There I woke Michael and told his aunt we would head for Poleton, which was the nearest port, and get a boat to Germany. In fact we went the other way as my French is much better than my German and from Gyppeswick we could get a boat to Holland and travel down from there to France.

On the way we stayed at small inns with Michael playing the part of a wealthy lad taking a servant girl along for his pleasure.

As you know those brutes waylaid us. Two had pistols and one a sword and a horsewhip. They searched our bags and persons and found my money and jewellery. Michael tried to struggle when they searched his body but they cruelly hit him and knocked him to the senseless ground. Then they searched me. One held my arms behind my back while the other two undid my dress and played with my bosoms and started to touch my womanhood. Michael must has woken up and seen this because her charged the men like a bull but before he reached us the man behind me fired his pistol and Michael fell at my feet, a bullet through his head. I fell upon him and screamed out many times, "Murderers," but they just hit me in the face until I quieted. One of them, his name was Frank said they should get away from where we were and bury the body on the farm instead of leaving it. They dragged me away from him and threw his body over my horse. I was sobbing hysterically and said I was staying in that spot and they should kill me too. The whip man, Jake said, "We’ll probably do that too but we want some fun with you first. When I refused to move he brought that terrible whip crashing down on my back several times. I knew it has cut through my clothes and I was bleeding. He pulled me to my feet and told to walk and when I didn’t move fast enough he flicked the whip at me, as though I was a horse. Before we reached the house I must have passed out because when I came to, I was across Michael’s horse and we were entering the farmyard. Michael was thrown into a barn with the horses. "We’ll bury him when it’s dark," Frank said.

We’d hardly entered the house and my torn clothes were taken from me and all three removed their breeches. I knew what they were going to do and it wouldn’t be nice like it was with Michael but with the horrendous pain in my back I hardly cared. First they played with my breasts although played is hardly the right word. Tormented is perhaps better. Again I must have passed out because when I awoke, I was on my back on the hard table and Jake was thrusting in me. For what seemed hours, I drifted in an out of consciousness. Each time I came to they were abusing me in one way or another. Like you Alice, I was made to take their messy man thing in my mouth but I knew they would cut me again with the whip if I did. Later when I came round I was lying on a bed and the men were drinking and laughing and looking at my jewellery. I guessed one had been to the inn to get beer.

Seeing me awake John, the third man with a fat body, came to me and told me to open my mouth and when I didn’t he slapped my breasts as hard as he could. He continued slapping them back and forth until I cried out I would do it but I wasn’t prepared for what he did then. He forced his pego right to the back of my throat and held my head so my nose was in his hair and then started to pee. I coughed and spluttered but had to swallow most of the foul stuff. The others all laughed and made sport with me and said I would save them going to the outhouse. Thereafter their sport became ever more obscene. By the time they left me tied to the bed for the night, they had each taken me twice more and in my bottom too.

As you might guess I didn’t sleep at all that night, what with the pain in my back and my womanhood and the loss of my dearest Michael. Morning and they came and used my mouth again instead of the outhouse. Sometime about midday I appealed to go to the outhouse, suggesting there would be a foul smell in the room if they didn’t. John took me. I could barely walk but he supported me and then watched while I performed. Throughout the day I was raped as and when and where they felt like it. I was never untied so I soiled the bed but that didn’t seem to worry them. John fed me some toasted bread and some ale. I wondered if they’d buried Michael but they didn’t seem to have been gone long enough for that. I thought maybe they would kill me too when they’d lost interest in my body and bury us together. At that time I thought we would at least be together and in peace." She broke down here and Alice had to comfort her for some time before she could continue.

"Jake left in the evening and came back with bottles of liquor paid for with my money. There were bottles of gin and whiskey and some with labels I did not recognise. They were not used to such strong mixes of alcohol and quickly became drunk. Jake and Frank fell on the floor and lay there in a stupor. John swaying came to me and said I was to sleep in his bed with him like a wife. He released my bindings and half carried half pushed me upstairs. I noticed he took the one of the gin bottles with him. A plan came to me. When we were on the bed he took a swig of the gin and I tilted the bottle a little so more of the fiery liquid went down his throat. He offered it to me and I pretended to drink and cough and gave it back to him and he swallowed again. Now his eyes were glazing and I knew it would not be long before her slept. I took the bottle and held it to his lips and without thinking he took several more gulps before finally falling on to the pillow. Once more I opened his mouth and poured more of the gin down and held his nose so he choked and swallowed. Slowly I made my way downstairs and filled the mouths of the other two sleepers with as much whiskey and gin as I could. Apart from choking they didn’t react much. I found my tattered dress and shoes and left. Not wanting to see what horrors they had done with my lover, I left and tried to retrace my steps to the lane and towards the village. I remember it was moonlight and I could see fairly clearly but walking was extremely painful but I tried to shut it and the events from my mind and blindly carry on. Sometime after dawn a man found me and brought me here." More crying and sobbing followed before she added. "You have written to my father but after hearing what I have done, you are unlikely to get a favourable reply from him."

For the rest of the night she drifted in and out of wakefulness and several times I thought we had lost her but she pulled through. I ordered Henrietta to take over as cook for the day and allowed Alice to sleep alongside Farthing. I lay on a spare bed upstairs after instructing Sara to watch at Farthing’s bedside and apply wet towels to her back and to wake me when the doctor arrived or if there was any change in her condition. She slept most of the day and it was evening before her eyes started opening again. Most of the fever had gone and the welts were losing their heated colour so we hoped the poison was leaving her body. Alice sat her up and spooned some mutton broth into her mouth, which she took readily.

Three days later I received a note from Lord Parham requesting I call and see him and bring the girl with me. Farthing was still far too weak to travel so I went alone and was surprised to be introduced to Lord and Lady Everinton. His Lordship was annoyed I hadn’t brought his daughter even though I explained her weakened condition. Fortunately her ladyship stepped in, "Now Henry," she said, "Let us hear what the man has to say before you start to condemn him." I told the story as I knew it and her ladyship immediately said, "I wish to see my daughter, Henry. If you do not wish to take me in the carriage I will ride back with Winsberly and see her there."

"She tricked us after all we did for her. All because of an infatuation with a stable boy. She deserves to be left where she is."

"I’m going whatever you say Henry. My daughter’s been through a terrible ordeal and I wish to see her. Are you going to order the carriage or shall I ride with the Workhouse Master?" In the end Lord Everinton came and with his faster carriage arrived some fifteen minutes before I. Alice was dressing Farthings wounds as the pair entered unannounced and unrecognised. Alice was about to give him a piece of her tongue when Farthing saw them and simply said, "Father, Mother, you came," and burst into tears. However she turned to Alice for comfort. The sight of their naked daughter‘s grossly discoloured back and blackened bruised face with its distorted nose and ugly breast marks rendered the parents speechless for a while. M’lady crying went to her and held her hand but didn’t otherwise make any contact. When I arrived Lord Everinton was berating his daughter for being a disgrace to the family but Lady Everinton took this for only a short while before telling her husband he was partly to blame and telling him to forgive his daughter for what she had done. "She’s been punished in the most terrible way and she will carry the wounds on her body and in her mind for the rest of her life. If you have the least bit of compassion in you, show it now."

"Yes God punished her. Punished her for being a whore!"

"It wasn’t God that punished her. It was those brutes now in the town jail, Henry."

"Well she is not coming back to my house." His Lordship absolutely refused to budge on that point. "I no longer have a daughter."

"She IS our daughter, Henry and I will not abandon her when she is in need of care and condolence." Farthing was crying into Alice’s breast by saying nothing.

"She left as a servant, she can remain as one, if anyone will employ her. I’m not having her in my house and that’s final Mary."

"She can stay in my cottage in Nettleborough then, dear"

So they argued in front of us till his Lordship partly capitulated. "Very well Mary, she will remain here in this workhouse until the New Year and then you can take her to Nettleborough. They seem to be looking after her well enough and when she’s better she can work like the rest of them do here."

"Give the man twenty sovereigns for the trouble he has taken so far and to pay her doctor’s fees Henry. That is the least you can do."

"She’s got the jewellery and some of the money they recovered when they searched that farm," Lord Everinton countered. It was the first I had heard of it.

"As you well know Henry, that is still in the Sheriff’s keeping. Now give the man the money and leave us for a short while. I wish to talk with Jeanette alone." Reluctantly counted out twenty coins and gave them to me. "Treat her like the rest of them here, Sir. Make sure she works the same as any other servant."

Alice was asked to leave but Farthing wouldn’t allow it and just clung to her even tighter. "Mother, without Mistress Alice and Master Josiah, I wouldn’t be alive. I am better off here than at home. I know they punish the ladies and use them for entertainment as I expect I will be when I recover but there is a kindness as well and all are looked after." I was well pleased by that remark.

"Jeanette dear, we’ll do what your father wishes and leave you here until January. I will come back again and discus with you your moving to Nettleborough." Turning to Alice she said, "Mistress, despite what my husband said you will treat my daughter as a paying guest. The money Josiah has been given will more than cover the costs of treating her with the best care and she should soon have the money and jewellery returned to her. If there are other unforeseen expenses I will see they are taken care of." With that she spoke with Farthing for a little about her ordeal and promised Michael’s body would be returned to his aunt for a proper burial.

October 14th 1837

Farthing is much recovered and we have started her working with the other ladies but only on light work. Katherine is looking after her and is pleased with her sewing. She is making an embroidered dress for Alice. Her money, nearly one hundred pounds, and jewellery is in my safe. We think she is pregnant but no one can but guess as to the father. It may be Michael or one of the brutes that await trial.

[Margin note] May 15th 1838. We received the sad news today that Farthing died at Nettleborough after having a miscarriage. May she rest in peace. I cancelled all work and punishments for the day as a mark of respect.]

Margaret’s eyes were teared when she finished reading and tears were running down the cheeks of others.

"The story was supposed to make us horny Margaret," Kathy stated, "Not make us cry."

Chapter 33. Bath time delights

"Bend over the table Janet please." Margaret put all the authority she could into her voice.

"Oh my God, no, I thought you were outside. You’re not going to..."

"I most certainly am Janet. I would also warn you that if I have to ask others to assist me, they get to give you the same punishment that I do. That means you could get four times as many strokes."

"I was only joking Marg.... Ma’am. I didn’t mean any harm by it."

"And I don’t mean any real harm by using this strap on your bum. Now bend over or do I need to call for help?"

Margaret had gone outside to cut some flowers but found the stems too tough for her scissors and returned for secateurs. In doing so she’d surprised Janet strutting in the kitchen mimicking her voice and actions. We’ll see how well you mimic a person having her bottom tickled with the strap." Reluctantly Janet lay across the table and gripped the far edge. "Hold her still by the shoulders please Mary and you Stella. I don’t want her jumping up after the first tickle." Lulled by the term ‘tickle’, Janet lay quietly and allowed her friends to press her tits to the table. Margaret took the back hem of Janet’s skirt and pinned it high up to her blouse so her bottom was well exposed. It was even more exposed when Margaret pulled the woman’s knickers down and slid them right off. By now the others in the group had gathered around.

"Crack!! Crack!! Crack!! Crack!!" Margaret laid four hard strokes on in quick succession. As the pain hit her nerve centres Janet yelled out and when released rubbed her sore bottom.

"Yeeooww! That hurt. Did you have to hit so hard?"

"You are supposed to thank me for taking the trouble to correct your bad behaviour, Janet."

"Thank you for correcting me Ma’am."

Margaret could see tears were not far beneath the surface of Janet’s eyes. "And I did not strap you very hard that is reserved for those who need restraining in the punishment chair. You will leave your skirt pinned up as it is now so all can see you have been naughty. Sarah please let me know if she tries to cover her bottom or fails to work properly this afternoon." It was now Wednesday and since Kathy’s punishment the ladies had been very keen not to be on the receiving end of Margaret’s strap. Janet had been very unlucky to get caught but at least she wasn’t stripped naked and ‘raped’ afterwards. Still it provided amusement for the others and a topic of comment and good-natured jokes for the afternoon.

"Ma’am, can I speak with you privately for a few moments," Shelly asked. It was Thursday afternoon just before dinner. Margaret led her into the office. "Could I stay here until Monday please? And I think Stella would wish to as well. She does an evening shift on Monday but I only do temp work and am not due in again till Tuesday."

"I have a lace class in on Saturday for the week but there are rooms free. You would have to behave yourselves in a respectable way. I doubt if any other course would wish to go as far as this one has. If word got out, this place would be closed down."

"I understand that, Ma’am. I was also wondering if the chalk marks I earned earlier could be brought forward to Friday evening?"

"You want to feel the birch on your bum?" Margaret sounded incredulous. "You do realise the pain is much sharper and more intense than the strap?"

"Yes, Ma’am. What if I was naughty again in the morning? Like not emptying my pee pot and getting down late for breakfast. Would that earn me a few strokes of the strap as well?"

"Shelly, am I reading you right? You want us to give you a strapping and then the birch. Talk to me freely. Tell me exactly what you think you want us to do without mincing your words. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding."

"Ma’am I want to experience a thrashing like those women did. You to give me a good strapping and then Jeremy with the birch. I want to be raped like Kathy but there is no need for condoms. I had my tubes cut some years ago."

"I don’t think you have any idea of the pain involved Shelly. I doubt you would want to sit before Tuesday. You will be in real agony for some days. Could you take it?"

"That’s what I want to find out. This is perhaps the only time in my life I can find out. I’ve dreamed of being a slave but now I get the chance to find out for real. Will you do it? I know I will probably scream and beg you not to do it but once you start, I want you to go through with it like a real punishment."

"I’ll have to see what Jeremy says but I guess he might want this in writing to save our backsides."

When Shelly again visited the office, Jeremy had prepared a disclaimer for her to sign. He went through it all with her again but she was still adamant she wanted to go through with it. "The punishment you gave me earlier in the week, just whetted my appetite. I know at first there was considerable pain and suffering but when that went Stella and I had a great time. I want to feel helpless and unable to do anything about it." She signed the disclaimer.

"You have until the morning to decide, Shelly. If you’re late for breakfast I will know you wish to carry on with this arrangement. Don’t tell the others. Let them believe it has not been arranged."

"I shall have to tell Stella otherwise she might stop it but she’ll keep it from the others, Sir."

Shelly did arrive late for breakfast and left her half-filled piss pot under her bed. Jeremy ceremoniously put another chalk mark against her name and awarded her six strokes of the strap for later that evening. Apart from Stella, everyone believed the chalk mark was phony because they would be away before Saturday. That was until Jeremy made an announcement at lunch.

"Ladies, there is a slight change to today’s programme. Sarah has agreed that your class will finish an hour early. Most of you will have finished by then anyway. Dinner will be brought forward by one hour also so those of you who have pre-dinner duties, make sure you do them an hour sooner. After the dinner things are away, it will be bath time. Bath time in the old fashioned way. The blinds will be drawn and well bring the bath in here and fill it with water. We will bathe in order of seniority, me Margaret, Sarah, yes she has agreed to this, and then Kathy followed by...." He listed the others alphabetically. To keep things fair, before each one, including me, enters the bath he will draw a card with a name on it. That person will do the washing. Ten minutes per person." There were giggles and laughter at the thought and speculation as to who would most like to wash Jeremy.

"Quiet ladies please. There is still time for more of you to receive a strapping. We have two miscreants to be punished today. Mary failed to leave her room tidy and swore when it was pointed out to her and Shelly who as you know, for the second time this week, failed to get up on time or to empty her pot. Mary will get four strokes of the strap. Shelly’s case is much more serious. She will receive six with the strap. I have also decided to bring forward the entertainment evening. Shelly and Stella are staying on for a few days, therefore they will be here on Saturday but unfortunately so will eight lacemakers so it will be impractical to punish her then. Hence she will get her birching tonight. Jim and Theresa will also be here after the bathing." At this there were murmurs of surprise and some indignation and suggestions that a birching was far too harsh." Jeremy silenced them. "Ladies, I asked for quiet. This is not open for discussion or debate. Shelly has been forewarned of her fate and is accepting it. You wanted realism. Tonight you will get it in full. I suggest that after the teatime chores are done, you all go to your rooms, undress and return to the kitchen for your bath. I will give you a more definite time." Again there were voices raised for and against what was to happen. "Ladies, this is not open to discussion. It will happen. Enjoy the spectacle. You will never see it again."

"Sally!" Jeremy turned the card over and entered the galvanised tub. "Take your robe off Sal," Kathy called, "You don’t want to get it wet." Sally soaped his hair and then worked down his body until he had to stand for her to wash his arse and cock. He was fully erect and Sally made a great show of making sure it was clean. He stepped out and while Sally dried him, Margaret picked a card.

"Janet!" It seemed as if Janet wanted to get her own back for the strapping she’d taken a few days before. She handled Margaret’s tits very roughly during the soaping process but this only caused the nipples to harden and for her mistress to become aroused. This became even more noticeable when Janet washed her cunt and thrust her fingers inside. "Oh, you ARE wet. You’re a horny thing, Ma’am."

Sarah drew Kathy who seemed to want to give Sarah as much pleasure as she could for helping her re-do the corn dolly she destroyed on the second day. Her massaging of Sarah’s breasts and cunt were blatantly sexual and Sarah couldn’t hide her orgasm.

"Guests and ladies. Tonight you are to witness the punishment of two of our ladies." Both ladies were naked and standing with their backs to the side wall, their hands tied to a ring above their heads. Neither had been tied tightly but neither could they free themselves. Mary on the left for untidiness and disrespectful behaviour when it was pointed out. Mistress Margaret will fasten her to the punishment chair and treat that pert little bottom of hers to four spanks with the strap. Shelly’s misbehaviour is much more serious. It is her second offence of the week and it seems we were far too lenient with her on the first occasion. She will be fastened to the bar before we deal with Mary. This will give her time to feel the effects of its shape. My wife will need no reminder of that. I had her fastened down one evening soon after I had the straps repaired when I was called away and came back an hour later. She was not best pleased. We know the ladies of years ago were left on the bar for extended periods before being punished. When we decide she is ready Mistress Margaret will strap her bottom soundly six times to warm it in readiness for six of the birch. I will say a few words about the birch when the time comes. First I will fasten Shelly down and you can see for yourselves how well this apparatus was designed."

Shelly was becoming more and more concerned. She’d expected to be bent over the chair. That was bad enough but to be tortured on that cruel looking bar was going further than she wanted. "No! Jeremy no! I don’t want to go through with it."

"First you will address me properly or the severity of your punishment will be increased. Secondly madam, whether or not you wish to go through with it is not a decision you have to make. I decide that. Come with me." Still protesting Shelly was dragged to the bar and with Jim and Theresa’s assistance, fastened down. "Ladies, I am sure you notice how nicely the shape of the bar parts the breasts and allows them to hang down on either side. Straps or whips used on them would have maximum effect as the breast could not move and would be forced to take the full impact. If you look further along, you can see how neatly the shape parts the cunnie (that’s the term most frequently used in the journal), parts the cunnie lips and the weight of her body presses her clitoris against the wood. For a short while the sensation is not unduly unpleasant but time increases the discomfort to a level that becomes almost intolerable. We’ll leave Shelly for a moment. If her cries distract us, I will bind her mouth. Have a good look Jim and Theresa and then the other ladies can look and feel too if you wish."

Jeremy let them examine Shelly for a few minutes and fielded a few questions as to her safety and whether or not she would be able to take the treatment without going to hospital. "They did years ago, Why not now?" When Janet in particular persisted, he ordered her hands tied to a ring and a gag put on.

"Come now Mary."

Mary’s punishment was an anticlimax, to everyone except Mary. Margaret didn’t go easy with the strap but she wasn’t vicious either. Mary though, thought her bottom was on fire and yelled loudly as Margaret paced the strokes out slowly so the woman felt the full impact of each one. "Sorry Jim, this one’s not for raping but you can feel all you like," Jeremy informed his guest.

By the time all had played with Mary and she had been returned to the wall, Shelly had lain on the bar for twenty minutes but so far had stifled her cries. From her horizontal position she could still see how the strap landed on Mary and knew she had to take more and probably harder strokes. Now she couldn’t believe she had asked for this. She very afraid and believed she could never take the punishment she had asked for without injury but knew he wouldn’t believe her if she pleaded for the beating to be aborted. However, she had to try. First she pleaded it was all a mistake, then she tried yelling and screaming at him. Jeremy silenced her silenced with a gag. "Shelly," he said so all could hear, "You wanted to find out what a real thrashing was like. You even signed a disclaimer to that effect. You told me to ignore all your appeals for clemency. Stella heard you say this. Now you are going to find out what the reality is. You are to receive six with the strap and Margaret’s going to lay them on good and hard so your arse is nice and warm to receive six with the birch rods. We’ll take our time so the bar, which I am sure by now is very uncomfortable, makes it presence known even more when you start to writhe under the lashes." Turning to the others he went on, "Make yourselves comfortable ladies. You are about to witness a thrashing the like that has not been seen publicly in this country for many years." Having said that he winked to reassure them he was talking more for Shelly’s benefit. "Ready Margaret?"

Margaret removed her robe. "Yes Sir. More than ready. This one has been a pain in our arse and now we are going to put pain in hers. Move back a little Sally, I want to get a good swing at this one."

"CRACK!!" The strap landed with a gun-shot loud noise. It was harder than Margaret intended and produced a muffled scream from the recipient and gasps from the audience. A broad red mark appeared across Shelly’s bum. "One."

"Crack!!" "Two." This wasn’t as hard but nevertheless was extremely painful. Shelly’s bladder gave way and urine flowed down her legs an on the floor.

"Crack!!" "Three." Shelly’s water hadn’t ceased when the strap landed causing the piss to spray and cover her bottom and the strap.

"It seems not to have been an uncommon occurrence for a woman to wet herself during a thrashing. Josiah never stopped for it to finish so neither did Margaret," Jeremy explained to his audience. He noticed Shelly’s gag was soaked with her saliva and decided to remove it. "You can cry out all you like Shelly. No one outside this room will hear you and it will not make one iota of difference to your punishment."

Margaret delivered the final three to the accompaniment of loud yells and screams from her victim.

"Give her some juice Stella. It would have been water at best in olden days but they didn’t have straws and drinks then." While, between cries and moans, Shelly sucked on the juice and tried to get Stella to stop the beating, Jeremy explained the birch to the others. "These are actually thin willow osiers which I cut earlier today from the bottom of the garden. In this part of the country they were favoured and readily available. Six seems to be the most common number of rods here and often they were just loosely bound. In this workhouse the job seems to have been given to Dilly who spent most of her life on colliers before becoming a gardener here. Apparently she was adept at binding the rods so they splayed nicely and covered more of a woman’s arse. They were kept in a leather tube of vinegar but that has long since deteriorated. I have kept these in the water butt all day. As you will hear, they make a different singing sort of sound and leave a mass of fine lines across the victim’s bum. If used too hard the tips cut into the flesh and break the skin. Some birchers used to make sure they picked up some of the blood and which made them sticky and tended to pull the flesh and cause even more severe pain. What does it feel like to be birched Margaret?"

"It hurts like hell. It’s like lines of fire stoked by bee stings. You want to scream and scratch and sit in cold water. And you can’t do anything about it. It drives you mad. It’s worse if you don’t know how many strokes you are getting and of course you can’t see what the actual damage is until afterwards and you look in a mirror. Always you feel as if your arse is being sliced up with kitchen knives. Of course, if any of you wish to find out for real, the birch will last far longer than needed for Shelly. Jeremy I’m sure will oblige. Over to you Jeremy."

Jeremy hung his robe over a chair, shook the birch and swung it through the air so they could hear the song it made. "Sounds innocent doesn’t it? We’ll see what Shelly thinks." The scream Shelly emitted when the birch crashed on the already tortured arse left the others in no doubt as to how much it hurt. "No! No! No more. I can’t take it. You are cutting me!" The others could see how true Margaret’s words were. They could see the fine raised red lines. They could see they were painful but there was no blood. Not even from where the tips cut in more deeply.

Ignoring her pleas, Jeremy swung the birch again. The onlookers watched fascinated as the birch descended again and left its painful path across her bum. However, the eyes watched not only the swing of the birch, they took in the swing of Jeremy’s prick. It was not fully hard but was semi erect and moved sensuously as his body moved to deliver each birch stroke. He brought the birch down for the third stroke, hardly hearing Shelly’s cries and pleading. His eyes saw Jim and with his wife on his lap, both naked and with his hands fondling her genitals. Jeremy’s cock twitched in anticipation as he laid on the fourth swipe. Red lines now criss-crossed the whole of her available bottom.

"Two more to go, Shelly. Are you enjoying it? Is it what you wanted?" Shelly didn’t reply in coherent words. The final two were laid on in quick succession.

"In olden days, a woman was always well ‘rogered’ as they put it, afterwards, but as you can see, the way this bar is designed, it would be difficult for a man to gain entrance." Jeremy had to shout to make himself heard above Shelly moans. They thought of that. "Stella would you mind releasing Shelly’s ankles please." Having done so, Jeremy showed them the saddle and explained how it lifted the woman’s bottom enough for a man to enter her. Again he demonstrated by thrusting in his prick and ravishing her hard. "Whether the woman liked it or not was of no concern to the men. They were after their pleasure and I can assure you, fucking a woman whose arse is so tender and warm that she moves and wriggles at every thrust is indeed a very pleasurable experience. I am sure Jim will confirm that when it is his turn." He continued to pace himself until he felt Shelly start to respond and then filled her with his seed.

"As you know from last time, it was the duty of one of the ladies watching to clean the man’s prick. Failure would have meant her having a turn on the bar and a session with the birch, so I hope none of you will refuse when asked to perform this service." He looked around. "I nominate Sally for this honour." She hesitated, then shrugged her shoulders and knelt and took his prick in her mouth and quickly sucked it hoping to pull away quickly but Jeremy held her head and kept it there while Jim took his turn with Shelly.

Sally felt his the cock in her mouth start to stiffen again and wondered if she was going to have to suck him off. It was a long while since she had done that to a man. By the time Jim had finished and nominated Janet to service him, Jeremy was hard again. This time he took Shelly slowly, concentrating and giving her a good time. He knew she was still in extreme pain but from his experience with Margaret, he guessed the fucking would take away just a little of it or at least take her mind off it. She’d already two lots of sperm inside her and was well lubricated and aroused. He thrust slowly and deeply with a corkscrew action and gradually Shelly started to thrust back.

Stella stood close by and watched over her friend. "You can kneel down between my legs and get a better view," Jeremy suggested to her. He noticed Margaret had her head between Theresa’s legs and guessed they would service each other in the absence of their husbands. Shelly climaxed twice before Jim finally withdrew. His cock was immediately captured by Stella who cleaned him without being asked and then gave her friend’s cunt a good lapping until Shelly cried out, "Stop Stella just let me up from this sodding bar." The pain was returning with vengeance.

*****

Breakfast next morning was a quiet affair. Shelly didn’t make it down until nearly the end. Stella quipped, "You must like that birch Shelly. This is the third time this week you’ve been late."

Margaret stepped in. "For understandable reasons, I gave Shelly permission to miss breakfast and I’m sure, as her friend, you will do her chores this morning." To Shelly she asked, "Have you put anything on it this morning?" Shelly shook her head.

"Can we see....?" Sally asked. "We did last night."

"We saw everything of everyone last night," Kathy pointed out.

After the session in the punishment room they had all moved to the parlour. Shelly, still sobbing, was laid on the couch with her bum over the end so everything was plainly visible to everyone. Sperm dribbled from her cunt and trickled down her thighs. You can clean her some more Stella if you wish while I get towels and some cream. Most of the group had donned their robes again but left them open in the front. Theresa went and fetched a carton of wine from her flat and Jeremy found two bottles in his kitchen. Soon they were all happily imbibing. Jim suggested a round or two of ‘pass the parcel’ but instead of the parcel as in the children’s game the group was divided into two and one group was passed around the others. When the girl parcel arrived the recipient could furiously feel and play with any part until the music stopped, which under Jim’s rules wasn’t very often. Only Shelly and Margaret, who was tending her, didn’t participate. Long before the second round, all had shed their inhibitions and were doing the most obscene things to each other. As was to be expected, Jeremy and Jim’s cocks were much in demand.

"Shelly, would you like to show everyone your bottom?" Jeremy asked, "You don’t have to." Shelly slowly lifted her skirt and everyone gasped at the vivid colour of the birch stripes and the underlying purple from the strap.

"Sarah I hope you won’t mind if I don’t sit too much this morning," Shelly looked across at her tutor who smiled and nodded.

"Ladies, your programme for this morning," Jeremy announced. "First, would you please put fresh sheets on your beds and then go to the workroom for your final session with Sarah. After coffee we will meet in the parlour to have a discussion session on the course. Normally we give out assessment sheets and we will do this today also but most of questions will not relate too well to what has gone on here this week so we’ll have an informal discussion until lunch. Then for most of you it is pack up and go. At the end of Sarah’s lesson Workhouse rules are suspended but are in force again now so get to your jobs. I expect Stella and others to cover for Shelly while Margaret gives her a little more treatment."

At the end of morning session, there was a surprising amount of agreement on the value of the course. The pro’s and con’s were talked over and over until near lunch time Kathy stood and asked, "Who would like a repeat of this course if Jeremy and Margaret will let us come again?" Everyone put their hands up. "Who would like it to be the ‘real’ workhouse experience with punishments like we’ve seen?" Again everyone voted for it although Janet hesitated.

Sarah asked if they would like another corn dolly or straw weaving course and if so, could she be a ‘real’ workhouse teacher with a strap like Margaret’s.

"Not another cruel bitch!" laughed Shelly, "None of you will go home without extra cushions." There was general laughter but they agreed.

Jeremy pointed out that what went on at the workhouse during the past week must remain between themselves. "We, and I think you, enjoyed ourselves immensely but if one word gets out, we’re closed down. Next time, we’ll make it a private booking Kathy, and you can hire Sarah. That way I won’t have to advertise it as a public course." Kathy agreed and said she would be in contact with him. So ended what was the most unusual course any had attended.

After lunch, in the peaceful breathing space between two courses, Margaret sat beside Shelly and applied more cream to her bottom. "Do you know," she reminisced to Shelly, "If that miserable old shopkeeper hadn’t moved me out of his doorway where I’d hoped to spend the night and sent me out into the rain, I’d have never met Jeremy and would not be here today. From bag lady to mistress of a workhouse in a few short years."

Finis