Chapter 3
Only Mrs. Belton and the two maids were at home when she arrived. Her father was away on one of his business trips. Her brother, Eric, had gone to Norway with a party from his university. Joan unpacked her bags, put some life into her room, and began to mooch around the house, thinking of Robert. She had not seen him since the last holidays, three months ago.
It was a pity Eric was away, she thought. If he had not been, he could have invited Robert over for a drink. She herself could not. She would have to wait for Eric's return. And in the meantime the burn inside her continued to smolder.
She did not consider the possibility that she would not be able to do what she had determined to do. She was going, in some way, to give Robert a beating, and that was that. She turned several ideas over in her mind, and rejected them. She would find a way, an opportunity, when the time came. It was no use making any plans now. She was quite certain that she would find a way.
The first night at home she dreamed erotically of Robert. She dreamed that they were alone in a ski-hut in the mountains, and she had tied his wrists and suspended him from a beam in the ceiling of the hut. She thrashed him with a very long, and very swishy, cane. Then she slept for a little, leaving Robert swinging there. Then she woke up and thrashed him again.
She was in a state of high emotion when she woke up. She was also a little ashamed of her dream. In reality, she had no idea of doing that sort of thing to him. She intended merely to make him take down his trousers and pants, bend over, with or without an erection, and receive six of her best with a cane. She lay in bed, however, and re-lived the dream. It was very shocking, a little shameful — but extremely exciting.
At breakfast she realized, with a start, that she had no cane. She felt very foolish. What was the good of planning to cane someone if she had nothing to do it with? Ah, but then, she had a riding switch. And, come to think of it, a riding-switch would give a good deal more pain. Her own switch was a long, thin one — a strip of thin steel covered with pleated leather. That would do well enough, until she could buy some canes.
But how could she get Robert into her clutches? Could she just ring him up, say she was lonely, and ask him round for a drink? Yes, perhaps she could. Eric would think she was a bit immodest, but that didn't matter. On the other hand, what would her father think? That mattered a lot.
A maid came into the breakfast room. "The telephone, Miss Joan. Mr. Andover."
Joan's heart gave a leap. She went to the telephone.
"Joan Lyveden," she said as calmly as she could.
"Hello, Joan. This is Robert Andover."
"Hello, Robert. How are you?"
"Fine, thank you. And you?"
"Very well, thank you. I'm afraid Eric is away,"
"I know. It's — it's you I'm ringing. I wondered whether you'd let me come round to see you."
"But of course. Come and have a drink before lunch today. And stay and have lunch." Things were working out magnificently. Providence seemed to be on her side.
"Oh, I say, that's awfully good of you. I'd love to."
"How did you know I was home from school?"
"Eric told me when you were coming. I've been waiting. I came down from the university a week ago."
"Robert, how sweet of you. I'm looking forward to seeing you. Shall we say about twelve." He would be surprised, she thought, to know how much she was looking forward to seeing him. Suddenly she said: "Robert, I've got an idea."
"Yes?"
"What about a ride this afternoon? Daddy left a message that the horses need a bit of exercise. Would you like to take one of them out? We could ride out to the copse and back. What do you say?"
"I'd love to. I'll put on britches then."
"Yes, do. See you about twelve. 'Bye till then."
She hung up the telephone and smiled. That, she said to herself, gives me a perfect reason for having a switch in my hand this afternoon. And the copse is quite secluded. It is as good a place as any for a beating.
They sat on the soft grass under a clump of trees in the copse. Their horses grazed nearby, with their reins looped over a low branch.
Robert was wearing well-cut britches and boots, and looked very handsome. Joan idly smacked the side of her jodhpurs with her switch and looked at him sideways. She remembered that he had looked extremely handsome, too, without any clothes on at all. He was now twenty, but looked twenty-two or three. He had matured early, and nearly two years at the university had given him an air of self-confident manhood.
He turned towards her and lay on his side. "You're even more dazzling then you were last holidays. If you go on like this you won't be safe." He took one of her hands in his. "You're not very safe now, as a matter of fact."
"Robert!" She pretended to be surprised. "But we're almost brother and sister."
"Don't tease," he said quietly. "You know that's not true. You know perfectly well I've always had a terrific yen for you." And you've known it, he thought, since that day you saw me get an erection for you.
She looked at him seriously. "Yes, I suppose I do know that."
He moved close to her and kissed her lips. He did it naturally, without the least hesitation or embarrassment. With his tongue he forced open her teeth. He pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Suddenly she threw her arms round his neck. She began to return his kisses wildly. She hoped he would make love with her. She wanted him very badly.
His hand went to her pullover. He pulled it up and cupped the hand over first one breast and then the other. After a moment he moved it to the belt of her jodhpurs. He fumbled with the fastenings.
She pulled away from him gently. "They're a bit difficult to get down," she murmured, without looking at him. "Let me help. And take down your own."
"I adore you," he said. "You're a wonderful girl. No hypocritical prudery. It's what I expected of you."
"Prudery is stupid," she said, pushing her jodhpurs down to her knees. "If I didn't want you to make love to me, I should tell you so. Since I do want you to, let me help. Jodhpurs are not as easy for you to handle as a skirt would be."
He stood up and searched the surrounding fields carefully with his eyes. "We must be a bit on the look-out. But we seem to be very alone, for the time being." He unfastened his belt and undid all his fly-buttons. He moved close to her again. "Would you take it out?"
She put a hand inside his pants. The feel of his prick, large and rock-hard, made her tremble. She closed her eyes dreamily and caressed it.
He caught his breath and threw back his head and shoulders at the intense, tingling excitement of her fingers. After a moment she drew his penis and testicle-bag through the opening of his pants. She pulled him down beside her.
"Are you a virgin?" he asked. He quickly rolled a french letter on to his penis.
She nodded. "Yes, Robert dear."
"I'll be very gentle," he said. His hands began to move over her breasts and body. He kissed her naked thighs and stomach. She trembled with pure longing.
He was very gentle indeed. It occurred to her that he must already have had a good deal of experience. When her moment of pain came she clung to him, murmuring words of endearment in his ear. And when her orgasm took possession of her she was astounded that the human body could experience such exquisite rapture.
They lay together for several minutes, tightly clasped in each other's arms.
"I want to go to sleep," she murmured drowsily.
"So do I," he said. "But I don't think we'd better — not this time. You've got a lot of blood. You don't want to get it on your jodhpurs'."
"Oh goodness, no!" she said, and sat up abruptly. "I didn't think of that."
"Don't move. Leave it to me." He took a clean handkerchief from his britches and gently wiped away her blood.
She lay back and stared up at the branches of the trees. "I adore you too, Robert."
That night she had another dream in which she gave Robert a beating. She had stripped him naked again and had tied him to a tree in the copse. She gave him a large number of strokes with her riding switch. Then she untied him and they lay down on the soft grass and made love again.
She awoke, tingling. She wondered whether she might just possibly make that dream a reality. Perhaps not in all its details. It would be dangerous to strip him naked in the open country, hidden though they were by the trees of the copse. But she saw no reason why she couldn't bend him over and give him six across naked buttocks before they made love again.
He arrived, as arranged, at twelve. They had sherry on the terrace. He was wearing britches and boots again, for they had agreed to repeat their ride to the copse.
"Robert," she said tentatively. She had better try to broach the subject now.
"Yes, my dear." His manner, since he had made love to her, had changed subtly. It was tenderly possessive, as though she were his wife and he her husband.
She lost courage. "How much longer have you at the university?"
He glanced at her quickly. Her original tone had suggested that she was going to say something else. "Two years. Unless I flunk the exams."
"Oh, you won't do that. I'm sure you won't." Her manner seemed false even to her.
He smiled. "Joan," he said gently. "Out with it. You've got something on your mind."
"Yes," she said. "I have."
"What is it? Are you sorry or angry about yesterday?"
"Good heavens no," she said at once. "Not at all."
"What is it then?"
"I ... I've got something wrong with me. I've got a sort of perverted desire to do something to you."
His eyes opened wide. "Really? What do you want to do to me?"
She paused for about three seconds. "To beat you," she said quietly, looking him full in the eyes.
He stood up abruptly and came to her. His eyes were shining. "Oh God! Is that true?"
"Yes, very true, I'm ashamed to say."
He took both of her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. "Don't be ashamed. It's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. I've got something wrong with me, too! I've got a perverted desire to be beaten by you. What do you think of that?"
She looked into his shining eyes and felt a wave of contentment flow through her. Everything was going to be all right. She would soon be able to assuage the burn. "What an extraordinary thing," she said. "Have you really? I wish I'd known."
"Do you remember that day when you tied Eric and me up and made us crawl naked over the floor in a race to the door?"
"Yes, I remember it well. You got an erection."
He laughed. "Yes, I did. I was so ashamed."
"I liked it."
"I wish I'd known. And do you remember that you pretended you had given us each over twenty lashes with a long bamboo cane? You said we were all covered with blood."
"I remember very well."
"Well," he said quietly, "since then, over all these years, I have dreamed again and again that you actually did beat me. And I have wished — oh, how I have wished! — that it could become true. And now — oh God! — you actually want to!"
"Yes, I want to very much. I've wanted to for a long time now."
He put his arms around her and kissed her. "Oh, Joan darling, I adore you. When will you do it?"
She felt his erection pressing against her stomach. "This afternoon."
"Where?"
"In the copse."
The moment had come. They were sitting again in the copse, and Joan was again idly hitting her jodhpurs-covered calves with her switch. They were both a little embarrassed.
"How many are you going to give me?"
"Six."
"Hard?"
"Yes, very hard. Will you be able to stand them?"
He looked at the switch in her hand. "Hope so — but that thing looks a bit murderous. Tell you the truth, I'm a wee bit scared — now the moment has come."
"I want you to be." Her heart pounded heavily. The moment had come indeed. She stood up. "Come on, then. Take down your britches."
He fumbled with the fastenings and pushed the britches down to his knees.
"Now your pants," she said.
Without a word he pushed his pants down.
His penis, mightily erected, stood out from under his shirt.
She moved to him and took it in her fingers. She caressed it. "I wanted to do this, that first time."
He sighed. "What a lot of time we've wasted."
"Never mind. We're more grown up now. It's better." She let go of his penis. "Bend over now, my Robert. Bend over tightly and take my pain."
He caught his breath, half in fear, and half in excitement at her words. He bent his body.
"Touch your toes, please."
"All right, but wait a. moment." He stood erect. "I want to ask you something."
"All right."
"Will you marry me, Joan — when I've finished with the university?"
She stared at him in surprise. "I should say that that's the only proposal of marriage that's ever been made in the history of the world at such a time as this."
"Exactly. Just before the future wife thrashes her future husband for the first time. I wanted to ask you before you begin the first thrashing."
She shook her head. "It won't do, dear Robert," she said gently. "Wait till you've had the thrashing, and then see whether you want to ask me again."
"I shall," he said positively, and bent over again He put the palms of his hands flat upon the instep of his riding-boots.
She lifted his shirt tails over his back. She ran her free hand lightly over his buttocks. "We shall see," she said thoughtfully, "but if you still feel the same way in about three minutes, it will mean that this is the last time this summer that your bottom will be free from weals. If you can really take these six, and if you want me to go on beating you" — she caught her breath sharply — "oh, my God! you are going to be beaten so much!"
She stood a little to one side and lifted the switch. The burn inside her had become a blaze. She summoned all her strength. At the last moment, however, as the switch was actually flashing down, the thought came like lightning to her mind that, this first time at least, she should not use all her strength. It would be too terrible if she were to kill his perversion by being too impatient. She could use all her strength another time. Just before it was too late she lessened the force of the lash.
He gave a great cry nevertheless, and stood erect, rubbing his buttocks with his hands.
"I should have tied your wrists," she said lightly, wondering at the same time whether the lash had been too hard. "Over you go again. And please don't stand up again till I've finished."
"That was bloody murder," he muttered, but he bent over again at once.
She gave him the next five strokes with much less strength. They gave him a good deal of pain, all the same. And they brought the blood to her head. By the time she had delivered the sixth she was ready to faint from an ecstasy that was terrifying because of its force. She dropped the switch and flopped to the grass with a little moan.
He stood upright slowly. Waves of pain were raging through his body, but he found he was enjoying them in some crazy way. He knelt beside her.
"Joan."
She turned her head to him. "Yes?"
"You told me to wait till you had given me six."
"Yes. What do you think now?"
"Will you marry me when I finish with the university?"
She gave a great sigh of relief. "Dear Robert. I honestly don't know. Let's see what we feel when you finish with it. In the meantime, come on down here and make love to me. Your bottom is probably on fire, but I'm on fire all over. Don't bother to put a french letter on today. From what they taught us at school, I should imagine I must be in a safe period for a few days."
His bottom was indeed on fire, but the pain was pleasant. He found himself wishing that she had given him another six. He dropped on to his knees beside her.
She took his penis again in her hands. It was still mightily erected. "I was afraid that the pain would make you impotent."
"So was I. But it didn't."
"No, it certainly didn't." She caressed the penis with one hand and the testicles with the other. She felt a sudden surge of excitement. "Oh Robert, I want to thrash you so often. Every day. And I want to give you more than six. Will you let me?"
"Yes," he said softly. "Whenever you want. As many as you want."
"Why? Why do you want me to thrash you?"
He lay on his side and put his hands under her pullover. He caressed her nipples. "I don't know. I wish I did. It —it seems so wrong, so depraved — "
"Then I'm depraved too."
"Well, yes, I suppose so. Why do you want to beat me? Can you answer that?"
"I'll try in a minute." She ran the tip of a finger up the front of his penis. She felt him stiffen. She glanced at him and saw a look of pure ecstasy in his eyes. She ran her finger again up and down the front of his penis. "First, I want to understand you. Why do you want to be given so much pain? It is painful, isn't it?"
"Terribly painful."
"Then why?"
He shook his head helplessly. "I honestly don't know. There must be something wrong with me. But there are other men like this, I think. I'm not the only one."
"Masochists. Isn't that the word?"
"I think so. I've vaguely heard something, but I don't really know." He paused. "The only-thing I know is that ever since that day when you tied us up and pretended you were using a long cane on our backs and bottoms ... "
"And making the blood fly."
"Yes. Well, ever since then, I've ached and longed for you actually to do it. But I'm damned if I know why."
She gave his penis a squeeze. "I'm going to do it," she said softly. "Tie you up and make your blood fly."
He caught his breath. "Oh God. Over my back too?"
"Yes." She had a momentary picture in her mind of actually doing it, and the blood rushed to her head. She squeezed his penis again. She wished she could also squeeze his testicles but some instinct stopped her.
"And now you," he said dreamily. "Why do you want to do it?"
She sighed. "I wish I knew. Maybe someday I may. But I've always wanted to tie men up. I suppose I like the ideal that they are in my power, at my mercy. And theoretically I suppose I've liked the idea of thrashing them, while they're so much at my mercy. But, you know, it wasn't until quite recently that I actually got the real longing to do it — the real as opposed to the theoretical, I mean."
"When was that?"
"Last term at school. I was about to cane a girl. I had given her the first one. And then" she laughed a little shyly "I thought of you. The girl was there, you see, bent over and with naked buttocks and so on. And I remembered your own nakedness on that day with Eric, and I suddenly wished that it was you bending over in front of me instead of that girl."
"Did you want to cane her? For pleasure, I mean."
"Yes," she said simply. "Or, to be more accurate, I had wanted to. But the moment I thought of you I stopped wanting to."
"And so?"
"And so I let her off with one I'd given her — and started to wait as patiently as possible for the holidays, and you."
He gazed at her seriously for a long moment. "You know, we seem rather to be made for each other, don't we? You've simply got to marry me."
She laughed gaily. "We'll see. But what I've got to do first is to give you another six. Come on, up you get. Six more of my sweetest best. Up, and bend over."
He felt two emotions simultaneously. Strong sensual excitement was one. It was very exciting to be ordered by such a lovely girl to bend over. Fear was the other. The pain that was to come was going to be dreadful for a few moments. The emotion of excitement was the stronger. As she released his penis he stood up and helped her to her feet.
"Give me my switch, please," she said.
He stooped, picked it up, and handed it to her.
She drew its length through her fingers. Her eyes were shining. She put it to his lips. "Kiss it," she ordered.
He obeyed her silently.
"Now kiss me," she said.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. As his tongue entered her mouth she felt with her free hand for his shirt tails and lifted them out of the way. She began to lash lightly at his bottom with her switch as she returned the passion of his kiss.
She pulled away from him breathlessly after a few moments. "Bend over now."
He bent immediately and touched his toes again.
"They'll be harder now," she said, in a tone that slightly. "Don't get up till I tell you that you can."
"How many are you going to give me?"
"I don't know. More than six anyway."
She raised the switch and brought it down with all her force. She raised it again and, by pivoting on her heel, somehow managed to increase the force. She repeated this twice more. Then she put her free hand between his legs from behind and took hold of his penis. He had cried out piteously. She was very relieved to find that his penis was still stiff. She caressed it for a few moments until she felt it grow even stiffer. Then she let go of it, stepped back, and gave him six more lashes in quick succession.
She fell to the ground with a moan. "Come! Come quickly!" From the first lash she had been gripped by a rapture, a sweet bliss, throughout the whole of her body. She now wanted nothing in the world so much as his penis inside her.
In a blaze of pain, he dropped beside her and quickly undid her jodhpurs. She helped him, as soon as the belt was loose, by pushing them and her panties down around her knees.
He pushed his hands up under her pullover and seized her breasts roughly. She gave a cry of pain and pleasure. He put his penis between her legs. He rubbed its knob against her opening. She moaned. "No, please! Don't do that. Come inside me now. Make love to me quickly. I want to have you now, now now — while I still feel this bliss from thrashing you." He put a hand to his penis and guided it swiftly into her. He gave a great thrust. She moaned again and gripped his shoulders like a woman possessed. "Oh, take me, take me! Be rough!" He thrust again, withdrew and thrust again. Her grip on him intensified in its strength until she felt that she had become a part of him.
And at the moment their orgasms took possession of them, and drained the strength from their bodies.
An hour later they were riding home. They rode at a slow trot because they were both very tired. The trot was extremely painful for Robert. He tried his best, by straining on his leg muscles, to prevent his backside from being touched by the jogging saddle. It was, of course, impossible. He suffered a good deal of extra pain.
"Poor you," said Joan, giving him a sweet smile that made his heart turn over. "It's very painful, isn't it?"
He laughed a little ruefully. "It is, rather. But never mind."
"I'm not minding. I like the idea that it's painful. It's my doing."
"You are a sadist, my God?"
"Yes," she said simply. "I am. And I've only just realized it. What time is it?"
He glanced at his wrist watch. "Half-past five."
"Shall we ride down into Throgmorton? It'll take us only about ten minutes longer. I'd like to go to a shop. They don't close till six."
"All right. Let's go."
She chuckled mischievously. "Do you know what I want to buy?"
"No. What?"
"Canes."
"Oh. Do you, indeed?"
"Yes. I want to buy half a dozen."
He stared at her. "Half a dozen? Why so many?" But he had an idea he knew what her answer would be. His voice was a little unsteady.
"I want to have them in reserve in case I break them over you."
He had been right. "Do you prefer a cane to that switch?"
She hesitated. "I think I did." She held up the switch and regarded it. "This probably gives more pain, but there's something about a cane that I love. Something symbolic. I don't really know why. It doesn't seem to make sense, but there's something clean and — and stark about a cane. I love the idea of a cane over your bottom."
He laughed nervously. "A little while ago, you said my back too."
"Yes, your back too. Nicely and squarely across your shoulders." She caught her breath. "We'd better change the subject or I'll bend you over again straight away. And then we'll miss the shops."
They arrived at the small village of Throgmorton and went to the general shop. Robert stayed outside with the horses while Joan went in to buy the canes. She came out after a few minutes with six very pliant ones of about two and a half feet in length. He eyed them apprehensively as they mounted again and rode off.
"They didn't have longer ones," she said. "It's a pity."
"They seem long enough."
"They're long enough if you're bent over. But I want to tie you up as I did before and make you crawl across the room and cane you as you go. And I need longer ones for that."
"I see," he said quietly. He felt the two emotions again. This time fear was the predominant. He did not very much like the idea of being lashed across his shoulders. No, he thought suddenly. I like the idea very much. But I don't think I will like it when it happens. It will really be bloody murder. It's a good thing that she didn't find longer canes. She won't be able to do it.
"Never mind," she said, raising her switch again and looking at it. "This is a bit longer than the canes. I'll do it with this." She put her feet to her horse's flanks and brought it to a trot. "Come on! Let's give a bit more pain to your poor bottom."
When they got home they skipped tea altogether and drank sherry. Their experiences of the afternoon called for a refreshment stronger than tea.
"I wish," said Joan pensively, "that we could get hold of some handcuffs."
"Good heavens, do you?"
"Yes. Rope is all right, but handcuffs would be so much better."
Robert drained his glass at a gulp and said impulsively: "As a matter of fact, we have some at home."
"Handcuffs?"
"Yes."
"Darling!" She ran to him and put her arms round his neck. "Are they yours? Can you bring them?"
"They're not mine. But I think I can bring them. They're Father's. A relic of his Military Police days. They're in the attic."
"Oh, wonderful!" she breathed. "And you can swipe them without anybody noticing?"
"Yes, easily."
"Will you bring them tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Can I keep them?"
He laughed. "I think you'd better. I mean, I'd better not be carting them backwards and forwards."
She refilled his glass. "Good. Now, drink that up. And then we'll go to the garage."
"What for?" He knew the answer, of course. His heart had given a violent jump.
"For a little more beating," she said sweetly, putting up a hand and caressing his cheek. "I want to try my new canes."
"Oh." He sipped his sherry and wondered whether he had bitten off more than he could chew. The third beating in one afternoon. But it was nevertheless an exciting idea still. "Why the garage?" He knew it was a silly question but he was trying to gain time.
"We don't want Mrs. Belton coming again. She would really have a heart attack this time." She picked up her bundle of canes. "Come along."
They went out of the house to the garage. The little runabout Austin was parked next to the large Bentley. There was enough room in front of the Austin for her to swing a cane. "Bend down here," she said. "But take down your britches first."
"My word!" she said as she saw the weals on his naked buttocks. "That's a very lovely sight." She ran her hand over his flesh. The raised weals felt hard to her fingertips. Some of them had a little dried blood in them. She sucked in her breath in a sudden access of longing. She gave his buttocks a hard slap with an open palm. "They're mine, all mine. And I'm going to create so many more."
She pulled one of the canes out of the bundle. She stepped into position and gave him six strokes with all her strength. Blood spurted on the fourth stroke.
With each stroke he gave a low cry. The cries were sweet music to her ears.
"Now you may stand up," she said. She handed him the cane as he did so. "I want you to take this home with you, this one I've just used. I want you to put it in your bedroom — on your dressing-table or somewhere. I want you to be able to see it from wherever you are in your room. And I want you particularly to be able to see it when you're in bed. And when you look at it you will think of all the other sixes I'm going to give you with these. Will you do that?"
He took the cane in his hands. It was spotted here and there with his blood. "Yes, I will do that. I don't know what the maid will say, but I'll do it."
"You can put it away when you're not in the room. But when you're there I want it to be in front of you. You promise?"
"Yes, darling. I promise."
She drew another cane from her bundle. "Good. Now I'll just give you a quick six with this and then we'll get into the back of the Bentley. Thank goodness Daddy didn't take it with him this time." She put her hand to his penis again. It was still very hard. "Do you think you'll be able to make love to me again?"
He telephoned her at eleven o'clock the next morning. "Are we riding again? Shall I wear britches?"
"No, darling Robert. Don't wear britches today. I have something else planned for you."
When he arrived, wearing a sports coat and flannels, he asked: "What have you got planned for me?" He looked more like a Greek god to her than ever.
"A beating across the floor of my bedroom." She kissed him quickly on his nose.
He swallowed carefully. "Like that time years ago, with Eric." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, but that was in my imagination. This time it will be reality."
"With your switch?" His tone was extremely apprehensive.
"No." She went to a side table and picked something up. With her back still turned to him, she said: "Last night I cut off the handle of one of the canes and bound it with scotch tape to another one." She turned and showed the thing to him. "See. Isn't it rather nice?" She switched it through the air. Because of its length — over four feet long — it made a very ominous, slow hissing noise. "This is going to be much better than the switch. I'd rather it be in one piece, but that can't be helped." She put it down on the sofa.
"And in any case it doesn't matter," he said quietly, looking at it nervously. It looks murderous enough as it is."
"Did you bring the handcuffs?"
"Yes. They're in the car. I left them there because I didn't know where you were going to use them."
She smiled sweetly at him. "You are a darling. Of course you didn't. But I'm going to use them in the house. Will you go and get them?"
He went out of the room and was back within a minute. He had the handcuffs dangling from one of his hands. She gazed at them entranced. He brought them to her. "Here you are."
She took them into her hands. They were shiny and menacing. Her heart gave what seemed to her a complete somersault as she imagined herself putting them on to his wrists. They were so final, so much better than her ropes. Whenever she had tied anyone's wrists she had felt reasonably sure that he could not free himself, but there had always been a slight doubt. With these handcuffs there was no doubt at all. Her domination would be supreme.
"And here is the key," he said. There was a tension in the air.
She took it, again wordlessly. She looked at it in the palm of her hand. It was more than a key to the handcuffs, it was a key to power itself. The power of herself over a fellow human-being, and — what was more to the point — the power of herself over a man. With cuffs on his wrists she could do to him whatever she wanted.
She gazed at the key in her palm a very long moment. Then she looked up at him and gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, dear Robert." She looked at the handcuffs in her other hand. "Come on. Let me put them on you. Let me try them for size, as they say."
"Now?"
"Why not? Then I'll give you a drink. But you can drink it handcuffed, can't you?"
He held out his wrists. She snapped the shining steel manacles over them and pressed them tightly closed. She looked at them, and then at him, and drew in her breath slowly. "I've already beaten you three times, and so you've been in my power three times. But that was all a voluntary thing. Now, you're really at my mercy. Really and properly."
He shook his head. "No, not really. I could still run away."
She laughed. "How far do you think you'd get? I'd trip you before you'd taken three paces. You know that I learned Judo at Wetherby?"
"We all learn Judo at Wetherby. It's supposed to be for self-protection, not for what I'd use it if you tried to run away! But it's still Judo. And you're now completely in my power, aren't you?"
Her manner was beginning to be frightening. "Yes, I suppose so," he said, as casually as he could. "But what about giving me that drink?"
"Of course. Sherry?"
"No — not sherry. Whisky, please. With a little water."
She glanced at him in amusement. "A lot of whisky and a little water, eh?" She went to the trolley and poured out a large measure of whisky for him. "Poor Robert. You're beginning to be really afraid, aren't you?"
His first instinct was to say no, but he changed his mind. "Yes, I am," he said simply. "You are beginning to be a bit terrifying, actually."
She gave a delighted laugh. "What precisely are you frightened of ? I mean, at this moment?"
He shook his hand. "I don't know. I suppose completely in your power, as you say. And be-because these are on my wrists and I'm therefore cause you're obviously more of a sadist than I realized yesterday." He thought for a moment. "Yes, I'm frightened because I don't know exactly how much of a sadist you are." He lifted his glass in his manacled hands and drank deeply.
"Are you afraid that I may lose control of myself — and perhaps kill you ?"
"Oh no," he said quickly. "I'm not afraid of that."
"What are you afraid of then?'
"That you may give me more pain than I can stand."
"But you want me to give you pain, don't you?"
"In my mind, yes. I don't know how much I can stand physically."
She moistened her lips. "We'll find that out as we go along. Now, I'll take off these handcuffs and we'll have lunch. And then we'll go to my bedroom."
"Yes, you said that before. But is it safe?"
"It's the safest place. It's Mrs. Belton's afternoon off, and the maids won't come near my bedroom. We'll just have to be a little careful not to be seen getting there, that's all."
She inserted the key into the lock of the handcuffs. He rubbed his wrists as she removed them. "I wish," she said, "that I didn't have to take them off, but it would give the maids a fit, I suppose, to see you trying to have lunch with them on."
There was a light tap on the door and a maid came into the room on that moment. She was a very pretty girl of about twenty. "Excuse me. Miss Joan. You're wanted on the telephone. It's your father from London." Her eyes widened slightly as she saw shining handcuffs in Joan's hands. Then she saw the long cane lying on the sofa, and they widened much more. She stood aside as Joan, with a murmured apology to Robert, went out of the room, still holding the handcuffs.
Robert felt the girl's eyes on him. With studied casualness he picked up his glass and drained it. The cane on the sofa looked like an accusation.
The girl moved forward at once. "May I fill your glass, sir?"
"Thank you."
"Whisky, was, it sir?" She looked at him curiously. Then she looked again at the cane. Something funny is going on, she thought. A cane and handcuffs!
"Yes please. With a little water."
She poured the whisky and added the water. She brought it to him. There was a light of mischievous awareness in her eyes.
He found himself blushing. He took the glass and turned away quickly.
She had heard that people sometimes use a cane in sex. She wondered which of these two caned the other. It was quite obvious that that had been happening — or was going to happen. It was probably Miss Joan who was the caner. She had always liked to tie people up. It would follow that she might like to cane them after she had tied them up. And so this handsome giant was the victim, was he? And he was blushing furiously. How very interesting! She wished she could see it happening. She also wished that she could assist in some way.
She went to the sofa and punched the cushions. It was an unnecessary action for nobody had yet sat on the sofa. She wanted to have a reason for staying in the room for a few more moments. She picked up the cane and pretended to straighten the covers of the sofa.
"What a long cane," she said lightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "I've never seen such a long one."
He gave a little start. It was not lost on her.
"Er — yes," he said, feeling his blush begin all over again. "I suppose it is."
"It's a lovely one," she said, turning and looking him full in the eyes. I'd very much like, she thought, to use it on you myself. I wish I could say so, but I'd get the sack at once. A pity. But I'd like to lay it over your bottom, I would.
Joan came back into the room. The maid put the cane down on the sofa. She forced the mischievous light out of her eyes. She noticed that Joan was not now holding the handcuffs. "I've just filled Mr. Andover's glass, Miss Joan."
Joan looked at her sharply. "Thank you, Elisabeth. But that will be all now."
The maid went out of the room demurely. They're both rattled, she thought.
"Damn!" said Joan, as the door shut behind her. "Damn, damn, damn!"
"Yes," said Robert. "I see what you mean. She's twigged something."
"Did she say anything?"
"She said she'd never seen such a long cane. She also said she thought it was a lovely one."
"Did she indeed?" said Joan. "Oh bloody damn! We'll have to be a lot more careful in future. And Daddy's coming back tomorrow."
"Is he? Oh!"
She laughed. "Never mind. We can use my bedroom this afternoon, and we'll just have to use the copse after that. Oh hell, though! Eric's coming back next week. The copse may be a bit unsafe with him around." She frowned. It was irritating, now that she had at last found all opportunities, to be frustrated by having nowhere in which she could freely and safely use the opportunities, to be frustrated by having nowhere in which she could freely and safely use the opportunities. She was like a person who has just started to smoke. It was difficult to stop. She wanted to be able to thrash Robert at least once every day until she had to go away to her finishing school. She would have no opportunities there. She had better make the best of them now while she could. "I suppose," she said, "that your own home is out of the question? Too many around?"
"I'm afraid so," he said apologetically. "And our house isn't as large as this. They would be bound to hear."
"Oh well, never mind," she repeated. "We'll find a way. Come on now and have lunch. You'll need to get up some strength for what I'm going to do to you this afternoon."