Chapter 5

For the next few days Elisabeth was very thoughtful as she went about her work. She held some very interesting, and potentially valuable, knowledge. She felt that it ought to be put to good use. What she couldn't decide was what sort of use.

The idea of blackmail crossed her mind briefly. She rejected it at once. Joan had no money other than her allowance. It was unlikely that Robert would have any himself, since he was still at the university. Perhaps it was just as well. Blackmail was a very dangerous game.

But she could perhaps use her knowledge for a different sort of blackmail. Not for money. Just an invitation to join them at the next thrashing.

She caught her breath at the thought. How handsome he was! And how helpless he had been! Manacled and tied and naked — and thrashed across the floor! Her loins began to ache with longing. More than anything in the world she wanted to thrash him herself.

Ever since her early childhood she had had fantasies about being violent with a man. She had been ashamed of them. They had seemed so unwomanly, so brutal. The idea of actually thrashing a man, as opposed to simply knocking him about, had once occurred to her when, at the cinema, she saw "White Cargo" and watched the half-caste girl Tondelayo whipping a negro servant. She had been very excited for a little while, and then she had thought of those dreadful woman who were concentration camp guards in the time of the Nazis. This thought drove away her excitement and brought back her feeling of shame. There was obviously something wrong with her, she guiltily felt. She had better keep herself under control. And her thoughts and fantasies, too.

Everything was now changed, though. She no longer had any feeling of shame or guilt. If Joan had the same desires, if Joan could strip a man and tie him up and thrash him backwards and forwards across her bedroom floor — well, there was no need for any feeling of guilt or shame. Perhaps all women had these desires. Perhaps, after all, they were not so unnatural, so wrong. Joan was a very sweet girl, and she had them ...

How would she go about speaking to Joan, though? How would she bring it up? Could she just go to her and tell her what she knew, and offer herself as an assistant? And threaten to go to Mr. Lyveden if Joan didn't take her on?

She gazed out of the kitchen window thoughtfully. It would need a bit of nerve. But it was the only way.

Joan and Robert came into sight. They were mounted, and walking their horses out of the grounds.

Elisabeth looked at the switch in Joan's hand. "Yes," she thought, "I'll bet you're going to use that on something else than your horse. I wonder where you'll do it. You can't do it in the house any more, not now that your father is back. I wonder where you're taking him. Give him a good thrashing anyway. Take his trousers down and cut his bottom into ribbons." She put a hand to her head. She was dizzy with longing.

"Thank goodness for the copse," Joan was saying at this moment, as she put her horse to a trot. "But I don't know what we're going to do when Eric comes back tomorrow."

"Yes," said Robert, "it's a bit of a problem."

She laughed. "It'll give your bottom a chance to heal, anyway. You've had a lot of thrashings these last few days. And you're going to have another one now. She moistened her lips. "A terrific thrashing. I'm feeling awfully blood-thirsty."

"Oh," said Robert quietly. A chill of fear went through him.

She glanced at him. "Frightened?"

"Yes, rather."

I sometimes wonder why you stand it, she said to herself. I know that I hurt you terribly. I can't see what pleasure you get out of it. Aloud, she said: "But you'll always obey me? However frightened you are?"

"Yes, I'll always obey you. You know that."

"I do. But I wonder why."

"So do I," he admitted, with a slight smile. "It's quite a puzzle. I like the idea of being under your domination, as you call it."

"It's the idea, though, isn't it ? The idea more than the fact?"

"I suppose it is," he said slowly. "When you're actually thrashing me I want you to stop. I make up my mind never to obey you again — never to see you again, in fact. But then the thrashing finishes and the pain goes away — and I begin to like the idea all over again. And I find I love you more than ever."

"Come on, then," she laughed, and put her horse into a canter. "Let me make you love me more than ever."

They arrived at the copse within ten minutes, and dismounted. Joan opened her saddle bag and took out the handcuffs and a length of rope. "Go and get my cane," she said. She put the handcuffs and rope on the ground.

Robert walked to a thick bush and pulled aside some of its foliage. He took out the cane that she had left there the previous afternoon. He brought it to her. She put it on the ground beside her switch. "Take down your britches," she ordered.

He obeyed her at once. Now that the moment had come again, his fear was very strong. His heart pounded painfully. His face was very white.

When his britches and pants were hanging down over his riding boots she went up to him and lifted his shirt. She gave a whistle of something like awe as she looked at his lacerated bottom. "My goodness!" she murmured. "What a picture!" She ran her hand over the weals. "These are all going to open again in a few moments."

She went back to where she left her switch and picked it up. She swished it through the air. "Over you go," she said. "The first dozen. The warming-up." She had begun to think in dozens now. And she always started with what she called a "warming-up", without manacling and tying him. Whether the warming-up was for him or for herself she did not define.

Without a word, he bent and put his hands on the toes of his boots. His heart began to race. There was a dryness at the back of his throat.

She lifted his shirt-tail up over his back. She lashed his buttocks with a great deal of force. On the fourth stroke he uttered a near-scream and jerked himself upright, rubbing his bottom feverishly in a vain attempt to assuage the dreadful pain. She waited patiently. She knew that with the remaining dozens that she was going to give him, he would not be able to stand upright. She was prepared to be lenient for the first few minutes. After a few more rubbings he glanced at her, noticed the implacable look in her eyes, and bent over again. He jerked erect once more on the eighth stroke, groaning with pain. He wondered whether to call a halt to the whole thing now. In a little while she would tie him up, and it would be too late. And she had said she was awfully bloodthirsty ...

She sensed what was in his mind. She stooped quickly and picked up the rope and handcuffs. "Hold out your wrists," she ordered crisply.

He hesitated for a moment. Then he obeyed her silently. The handcuffs clicked over his wrists. She quickly tied his ankles together. "Now bend over again," she ordered. "And put your hands down here." She passed the ends of the rope over the chain of the handcuffs. Then she bound the rope once more round his ankles and made a number of knots. He was now unable to stand erect.

"I have an idea," she said, as she stood up and picked up her switch again, "that you were on the point of disobeying me just then. Well, you can't now!" She raised the switch and continued with the thrashing. She gave him two dozen very hard strokes before she stopped out of breathlessness. He was uttering a succession of moans and piteous whispers.

She sat on the grass, panting. Her body was on fire with exhilaration, her head was swimming. A sweet ache was clawing at her loins.

He swallowed with difficulty and brought some saliva to his mouth. He moistened his lips. "Please," he said. "No more. No more today. I can't stand anymore."

She looked at him dispassionately. "You said you'd always obey me."

"Yes," he said softly. "I did."

"Have you changed your mind?"

He hesitated.

"Well, have you?"

"No. But please no more today."

"But I've only just begun."

"Oh Christ!"

She laughed silkily. "Even if you had changed your mind, it wouldn't be possible for you to do anything about it at the moment, would it? You're at my complete mercy, aren't you? You can't even stand up."

"I could roll over on the ground."

"Do you think that would stop me?"

"It might hinder you a bit."

She smiled. "I wouldn't try it if I were you. Do you know what I'd do?"

"What?"

"I'd lash the back of your knees — till you stood up again."

"Oh." He swallowed in order to ease his dry throat. "But please no more."

She stood up and picked up the cane. "A little more. Just a couple of dozen with this. And then I'll stop for today since you're being a sissy."

She took up her position and lifted the cane. "I'll tell you what. If I break it before the two dozen are given. I'll let you off the rest."

"Oh, for God's sake! Please don't do that."

She paused, her arm uplifted. "What? You don't want me to let you off the rest?"

He sighed. "Don't tease me too. You know what I mean."

"Of course I do. But you must tell me. I want to hear you begging for mercy. You're under my domination, aren't you?"

He said: "Please don't try to break the cane."

"You'd rather have the full two dozen?"

"I — I don't know. You're a devil, you know."

"Yes," she said happily, and swung the cane. "I rather think I am.'

She lashed with all her force. The cane snapped into two pieces on her tenth stroke. She threw the pieces down and sighed. "Pity. I was really beginning to enjoy myself. Still, I'll have to let you off now." She knelt and undid his fastenings.

He stood up shakily. The waves of pain seemed to increase as he came erect. He raised his manacled hands and rubbed his fists into his eyes.

She moved quickly up to him. "What are you doing?" she asked anxiously. She put a hand on his manacles and pulled his fists away from his face. She looked at him closely. Then she sighed with relief. "For one awful moment," she said, "I thought you were crying."

He looked at her curiously. "Would you have minded?"

"Oh darling, of course I would. I don't want to make you cry, for heaven's sake!"

"And yet you want to thrash me so dreadfully."

She sat down again on the grass. She looked up at him, a thoughtful frown on her lovely face. "Yes. It doesn't make sense, does it? I do want to hurt you dreadfully — if it's physical hurt. But no mental hurt. Never that. And somehow, if you'd been crying it might have been something more than just physical pain. Do you see what I mean? After all, you'd expect a child to cry from physical pain, but not a man."

"Yes, I see what you mean, my dear. And I think it does make a bit of sense. You're a sadist in sex, but I don't think you're a sadist in anything else."

"I hope not. That would be really awful. I feel ashamed enough of myself as it is, without that on top of it!'

He knelt on the grass before her. "I can feel the blood getting near my britches again. You'd better wipe it quickly."

"Oh Lord! I forgot." She got up and knelt behind him. She took a large man's handkerchief from her jodhpurs pocket and began to wipe the blood away from his weals. "Just in time," she said.

"It hasn't gone on the britches?"

"Not the running blood. A few splashes have, though."

"I'd better have the things cleaned."

"No, don't do that. We'll go by the stream on the way back and I'll sponge them. They'll come clean quite easily with cold water." She gave a few more dabs to his buttocks. "There. By the time you've made love to me those weals will have dried up."

He grinned at her. "It never occurs to you that you might knock at all that stuffing out of me with your thrashings, does it?"

She glanced at him anxiously. "By stuffing you mean ... ?"

"My ability to make love to you, my sweet."

She frowned. "Have I done?"

He laughed. "No, you haven't. But I'm damned if I can understand why not."

"You said yesterday that the pain stimulated you."

"You didn't thrash me so hard yesterday."

"Oh dear! I didn't think of it." She smiled shyly. "That would have been terrible."

"Because you're in a very sexy condition now, I suppose."

"Yes," she said softly.

He put his arms round her. "It would have served you right, you sadist."

"I'll give you another dozen straight away if you talk to me like that," she said, dreamily.

"I'd better put you down straight away," he said. "I couldn't take any more today. You were a beast, you know."

She put a hand to his hair and stroked it. "Darling Robert. Was I really? I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Anyway," she said unhappily. "It's the last thrashing you'll have for a bit. With Eric home, we shan't be able to come here again."

"We shall, but we'll have Eric with us."

"Yes." She looked at the two pieces of broken cane a few yards away from her. "We'd better be careful to clear away the evidence before we go this afternoon." She looked into his eyes. "I've waited long enough to ask this. Do you still love me?"

He raised his eyes. "Of course I do. But why did you wait?"

"For the pain to go away. You said you don't love me when you're being thrashed."

"I didn't say that."

"You said you make up your mind never to see me again."

"That," he said forcefully, "is a totally different matter. That is just fear and cowardice."

She lay down on her back. "And you don't want to go away from me now?"

He began to unbutton her blouse and jodhpurs. "No darling, I don't. I love you."

"And I love you. But I must make some plan to be able to thrash you again before very long. I must think of something." She hutched her hips upwards to help him slip her jodhpurs down to her knees.

He lay over her, putting his hands to her naked breasts. "You're terrible. Quite, quite terrible." He fondled her breasts for a moment and then put his lips to them.

She took hold of a handful of his hair and tugged it gently. She felt his rock-hard penis creeping towards her wet vagina. She moved her position slightly and opened her legs wide. The penis nosed up against her. She began to tremble. It gave a little thrust. She gasped with pleasure. It entered her vagina about an inch. It withdrew, and thrust again ...

"Oh, Robert," she murmured. "I wish I had an assistant at this moment. Some lovely girl who would be whipping you as you make love to me. You would go so very far inside me then."

The penis gave a great thrust and slid deeply into her.

He raised his head for a second. "You don't need an assistant, do you? Isn't that far enough?" The penis thrust again, and then again violently.

"Oooooh," she breathed. "Yes, that's nice. That's very far. But I want it further."