Sadopaideia (1907)

Sadopaideia:
Being the experiences of
Cecil Prendergast,
undergraduate of the University of Oxford,
shewing how he was led through the
pleaseant paths of masochism to
the supreme joys of Sadism

1907

CHAPTER 1

THE INTERRUPTED BOSTON.

I first met Mrs. Harcourt at my College Ball, my last term at Oxford. She had come up for "Commem" to chaperon the cousin of one of my chums. Only the blessed ceremony of marriage gave her this right, for she was still well under thirty. I learnt from Harry that she was a widow, having married an elderly and somewhat used-up brewer who most considerately died quite soon after marriage, having, I have every reason to believe, decidedly shortened his life by vain, though praiseworthy, attempts to satisfy his wife's insatiable appetite.

She was a little woman, beautifully made, with magnificent red-brown hair, the fairest possible skin, a bust that was abundant without being aggressively large, a neat waist with splendidly curved hips, and in a ball dress-discreetly yet alluringly cut-she fired my passion at once.

Harry was very epris with his cousin and so was only too glad for me to take Mrs. Harcourt off his hands. We danced one or two dances together. She had the most delightful trick in the Boston of getting her left leg in between mine now and then. At first I thought it was an accident, but it happened so repeatedly that I began to suspect, and my old man began to suggest that more might be intended. At last I felt what seemed a deliberate pressure of her thigh against my left trouser. John Thomas responded at once, and I, looking down at my partner, caught her eye. There was no mistaking the expression. She gave a little self-conscious laugh and suggested that we should sit out the rest of the dance. Now I had helped to superintend the sitting-out arrangement and knew where the cosiest nooks were to be found. After one or two unsuccessful attempts, when we were driven back by varying coughs or the sight of couples already installed (in one case a glimpse of white drawers showed that one couple had come to quite a good understanding), I succeeded in finding an unoccupied Chesterfield in a very quiet corner of the Cloisters. Here we ensconced ourselves, and without further delay I slipped my arm round my partner's back, along the top of the couch, and, bending down, kissed the bare white shoulder.

"You silly boy," she murmured.

"Why silly?" said I, putting my other arm round her in front so that my hand rested on her left breast.

She turned towards me to answer, but before she could speak my lips met hers in a long kiss.

"That's why," she said, with a smile, when I drew back.

"Kisses were meant for lips, it's silly to waste them on shoulders."

I needed no further invitation. I pressed her close in my arms and, finding her lips slightly parted, ventured to explore them just a little with my tongue. To my great joy and delight her tongue met mine. My hand naturally was not idle; I stroked and squeezed her breast, outside her frock first, and then tried to slip it inside, but she would not allow that.

"You'll tumble me too much," she murmured as she gently pushed it away. "I can't have my frock rumpled, people would notice. Take that naughty hand away."

As I didn't obey, she took it herself and placed it with a dainty little pat on my own leg above the knee. "There it can't do any harm," she added with an adorable smile. She was going to take her own hand away, but I held it tight. I drew her still closer to me and kissed her again and again, my tongue this time boldly caressing her own. She gave a little sigh and let herself sink quite freely into my arms. By this time the old proverb that "a standing prick has no conscience" proved its truth. My right hand released hers and I took her in my arms, my right arm this time encircling her below the waist, with the hand clasping the left cheek of her bottom.

Modern dresses do not allow of much underclothing and I could distinctly feel the edge of her drawers through the soft silk of her frock.

"Oh, you darling," I murmured as I kissed her. By my taking her close to me, she naturally had to move the hand which had gently held mine. It slid up my leg and at last met John Thomas, for whom my thin evening-dress trousers proved an altogether inadequate disguise. She gave a little gasp and then her fingers convulsively encircled him and she squeezed him fondly.

That was enough for me, my hand slid down her frock and up again, but this time inside. It found a beautifully moulded leg ensheathed in silk, dainty lace, the smooth skin of her thigh, and at last soft curls and the most delightfully pouting lips possible to imagine. My mouth remained glued to hers, her hand grasped my eager weapon, and I was just about to slip down between her knees and consummate my delight when the lips that I was fondling pouted and contracted, and I felt my hand and fingers soaked with her love, and I realised that her imagination had proved too much for her, and that while I was still unsatisfied, she had reached at least a certain height of bliss.

She pulled herself together at once, and just as I was unbuttoning my trousers she stopped me. "No, not here," she said. "It's too dangerous, and besides, it would be much too hurried and uncomfortable. Come and see me in Town, there's a darling boy. Now we must go back and dance. This naughty fellow," she added, playfully patting my trousers, "must wait." She then got up, arranged her dress, and, giving me a lovely kiss with her tongue, led the way back to the ballroom. I followed, but do the best I might, John Thomas took his revenge on me by weeping with disappointment, which made me extremely sticky and uncomfortable, and but for Mrs. Harcourt's invitation to see her in Town, my evening would have been spoilt.

CHAPTER 2

AN AFTERNOON CALL

I "went down" next day, and on arrival in Town I lost no time in calling on Mrs. Harcourt at her little house in South Molton Street. When I rang at the door, it was opened by a very neat though not particularly pretty maid, as I thought. She had, however, quite an alluring little figure and a perky naughtiness in her face which is perhaps more fascinating even than mere beauty.

"Is Mrs. Harcourt at home?"

"I will see, sir, will you come this way. What name shall I say?" She showed me into a delightful little morning-room, very tastefully furnished, and disappeared. She did not keep me waiting long, but returned and said:

"Will you come this way, sir? Madame is in her boudoir. Shall I take your hat and stick?"

She took them from me and turned to hang the hat on the stand. The pegs were rather high, and in reaching up she showed the delightful line of her breast and hips and just a glimpse of a white petticoat underneath the skirt.

"Is it too high for you? Let me help," I said.

"Thank you, sir," she said, smiling up at me.

I took the hat over her shoulder and hung it up. She was between me and the hat-stand and could not move until I did. I lowered my arm and drew her towards me. She looked up at me with a provoking smile. I bent down and kissed her lips, while my hand fondled the delightfully plump breast.

"You mustn't," she murmured. "What would mistress say, if she knew?"

"But she won't know," I answered as my hand went further down to the bottom, which her tight skirt made very apparent.

"She will if I tell her," she smiled. "You naughty boy," and she playfully patted my trouser leg as she passed me.

"Which, of course, you won't," I said lightly, as I followed her. She laughed rather maliciously I thought, though I didn't pay much attention at the time. I had reason later, though, to remember it.

We went upstairs and I was shown into a lovely room where a log fire was burning, although it was no colder than most June days in this country. There was a splendid deep low couch, or rather divan, for it had no back, facing the fire, covered with cushions, which took my eye at once, and I mentally promised myself what should happen on it. My expectations fell far short of the reality, as will be seen. Mrs. Harcourt was sitting on a low chair near the couch. She was in a delightfully fitting tea-gown, cut fairly low at the neck, with very loose sleeves. It clung to her figure as she rose to greet me, and being made of chiffon with a foundation of pink silk, it gave one the idea at first that she was practically naked.

"Bring up tea please, Juliette," she said to the maid, who disappeared.

"So you have found your way here," she said, coming towards me with outstretched hand.

The room was heavily scented with perfume, which I learnt came from burning pastilles, and she herself always used a mixture of sandalwood and attar of roses. As she approached me her perfume intoxicated me, and without saying a word I clasped her in my arms and pressed long hot kisses on her lips. To my intense delight I found she had no corsets on, and her supple body bent close to mine, so that I could feel every line of it. My hands slipped down and grasped the cheeks of her bottom as I pressed her stomach close against my trousers.

"You rough impetuous bear," she smiled at me. "Wait till the tea comes up." And she disengaged herself from me, playfully slapping, as she did so, John Thomas, who was naturally quite ready by this time for anything. "Oh, already," she said as she felt his condition. "I told this naughty fellow at Oxford that he would have to be patient, and he must learn to obey."

Tea appeared most daintily served, and on the tray I noticed a delicate Bohemian-glass liqueur carafe and two liqueur glasses.

"Do you know Crème de Cacao," said Mrs. Harcourt. "It's rather nice."

She poured out tea and then filled each liqueur glass half full of the dark liqueur and poured cream on top. "A votre sante," she said, touching my glass with hers. Our fingers met and a thrill ran right through me. I drank the liqueur off at a gulp and leant towards her.

"You greedy thing," she laughed. "That's not the way to drink it. No, no, wait till we've had tea."

As I tried to get her in my arms: "Naughty boys must not be impatient," slapping John Thomas again and somewhat harder this time.

I sat back on the couch and drank tea rather gloomily, Mrs. Harcourt watching me teasingly. At last she put her cup down and, reaching for her cigarette box, took one herself and offered me one, and leant back in her chair looking at me with a smile.

"It's a shame to tantalise him so, isn't it?" she said at last. I did not answer, but jumped up and threw my arms round her, kneeling in front of her, and covered her face and neck with kisses. She tossed her cigarette into the grate and undid the silk tie of her gown. It fell back and showed all she had on was a dainty chemise of the finest lawn and a petticoat. My right hand immediately sought her left breast, and pulling it out I kissed and sucked the dainty nipple, which responded

at once to my caress, stiffening most delightfully. My left hand then reached down to the hem of her petticoat and began to raise it.

I felt her right arm round my waist and her left hand began to unbutton my fly from the top. Before she had time to undo the last button John Thomas leapt forth ready and eager, but she slapped it and pushed it in again and undid the last button and fumbled for my balls and gently drew them out. I drew back a little from her and lifted her petticoat right up, disclosing the daintiest of black silk openwork stockings with pale green satin garters, and above them filmy lawn drawers with beautiful lace and insertion, through which the fair satin skin of her thighs gleamed most provokingly. At the top there appeared just between the opening of the drawers the most fascinating brown curls imaginable.

I feasted my eyes on this lovely sight, undoing my braces and slipping my trousers down. Her hand immediately left my balls and began to fondle my bottom, stroking and pinching the cheeks while she murmured, "You darling boy, oh, what a lovely bottom."

I was eager to be in her, but the brown curls fascinated me so much that I could not resist the temptation to stoop down and kiss them. I was rather shy of doing this, as I had never done it before, and though I knew it was usual with tarts, I was not sure if it would be welcome here. Judge of my surprise, then, when I felt Mrs. Harcourt's hand on my head gently pressing it down and heard her saying, "How did you guess I wanted that?"

She opened her legs wider, disclosing the most adorable pussy, with pouting lips just slightly opening and showing the bright coral inner lips, which seemed to ask for my kisses. I buried my head in the soft curls, and with eager tongue explored every part of her mossy grot. She squirmed and wriggled with pleasure, opening her legs quite wide and twisting them round me. I followed all her movements, backing away on my knees as she slipped off the chair, until at last, when she drenched my lips with love, she slipped on the hearth rug. Then, as I

could scarcely reach her with my tongue in that position, and didn't wish to lose a drop of the maddening juice, I disengaged my legs from hers and knelt down to one side so that my head could dive right between her legs. This naturally presented my naked bottom and thighs to her gaze.

"You rude naughty boy," she said, smacking me gently, "to show me this bare bottom. I'm shocked at you."

Her hands again fondled my balls and bottom, and I had all I could do to prevent John Thomas from showing conclusively what he had in store for her.

I had no intention of wasting good material, however, and was just about to change my position so that I could arrive at the desired summit of joy when I felt her trying to pull my right leg towards her. I let myself go and she eventually succeeded in lifting it right over, so that I was straddling right across her, and we were in the position I knew quite well from photographs, known as sixty-nine.

My heart beat high. Was it possible I was to experience this supreme pleasure of which I had heard so much? I buried my head between her thighs, my tongue redoubled its efforts, searching out every corner and nook it could find, and just as it was rewarded by another flow of warm life I felt round my own weapon, not the fondling of her hand, but something softer, more clinging, and then unmistakably the tip of a velvet tongue from the top right down to the balls and back again, and then I felt the lips close round it and the gentle nip of teeth. This was too much, John Thomas could restrain himself no longer, and as I seized her bottom with both hands and sucked the whole of her pussy into my mouth, he spurted forth with convulsive jerks his hidden treasure. When the spasm was over I collapsed limply on her, my lips still straining her life.

CHAPTER 3

AN AFTERNOON CALL

(CONTINUED)

I was aroused quite soon by her pushing me off her chest.

"Get up," she said, "you are crushing me." We both got up and stood for a moment looking at each other. Then she felt for her handkerchief and wiped her lips. I tried to take her in my arms.

To my surprise she pushed me away. "Go away," she said, "I don't like you."

"Why, what's the matter?" I asked.

"Matter!" she replied, and she seemed to be working herself up into a temper. "Matter! You horrid beastly boy, how dare you come in my mouth?"

"I'm sorry," I said, "it happened so quickly and I-I-I thought you wanted it."

"Wanted it! How dare you?"

I tried again to put my arms round her, but she wouldn't allow it.

"No, get away, pull your trousers up and go." And she turned to ring the bell.

I sprang to her. "Don't send me away," I said. "I'm sorry and I won't do it again. Forgive me. Let me stay a little and forgive me."

"Let you stay," she laughed. "What's the use of your staying? Look at yourself."

And she pointed to poor John Thomas, very limp and drained dry and looking very ashamed of himself.

"Oh, he'll be all right again in a little time," I said. "Come, darling, let me stay and show you how much I love you," and I managed to get one arm round her and drew her to me. She let me kiss her but kept her lips quite shut, so that I couldn't get my tongue into her mouth. Her body was quite stiff instead of yielding, as before. I grew bolder and caressed her breast and began to pull up her petticoat again. She seemed to take no notice for a minute or so, and then, just as I had uncovered her thighs and was feeling for the soft curls of her mount, she quietly pushed my hand away, detached herself from my arms, and said quite calmly, "Well, if I let you stay, you must be punished for your rudeness. Will you do exactly as I tell you and submit to any punishment I may inflict?"

Now I knew nothing at that time of flagellation. I had heard of old men needing the birch to excite them, but beyond that I knew nothing. So I said, "Punish me in any way you like, only let me stay and prove to you how sorry I am and how I love you."

"Very well," she said, "get behind that screen," pointing to a large Chinese screen that stood in the corner. I obeyed and she rang the bell.

Juliette appeared. "Take the tea things away and bring me my leather case."

I thought I heard a chuckle from Juliette but was not sure. After a little while I heard her come in again and whisper something to her mistress. "Yes, very," replied the latter.

Then came more whisperings and I heard Mrs. Harcourt say, "Oh, did he? Well, we shall see."

She then told me to come out, and I obeyed. I must have made rather a ridiculous figure, as my trousers were still down. Mrs. Harcourt, however, did not seem to show any disposition to laugh. In fact, she looked very angry indeed. I went towards her, but she stopped me with a gesture and said, "You promise to do everything I tell you."

"Anything," I said.

"Very well. Turn your back to me and put your hands behind you."

I obeyed.

She opened the case and took something out, I could not see what, and then she came to me. I felt something cold touch my wrists and heard a snap. I tried to move my arms and to my surprise I found I could not. She had in a moment very deftly handcuffed me. I was too surprised to speak.

"Now kneel down," she said.

"What for?" said I.

"You promised to do everything I told you," she repeated. I knelt down awkwardly enough, with my hands fastened behind, just in front of the big couch. Then Mrs. Harcourt took a large handkerchief and blindfolded me. I didn't like the look of things at all, but said nothing.

"Now," said Mrs. Harcourt to me as I knelt there helpless, "you have been a very rude and dirty boy and you must be punished. Are you sorry?"

I was just about to answer when "whish," something whistled through the air and I felt as if a hundred needles were pricking my bottom. I could not help an involuntary cry. I heard a sigh of pleasure, and felt a hand on my neck, pressing me forward onto the couch.

"Are you sorry, eh?" she repeated, and again the smart cut across my bottom.

I had never been birched in my life. At school a tanning cane was used, but I could easily guess what was the weapon she was using.

"Will you speak? Are you sorry?" she repeated, and again the rod descended. I tried to escape but my hands' being tied hampered me, and though I could and did kick lustily, her hand on my neck managed to prevent me escaping altogether.

"Keep still," she said, "or I shall get Juliette to help me. Are you sorry?" At that moment in one of my struggles the birch just caught my balls, causing excruciating pain. "Yes, oh yes," I shouted.

"Will you ever do it again?"-whish-whish.

"No."

"What was it you did? Confess your fault."

Silence on my part. I felt too angry and ashamed to say. "Will you confess?"-whish-whish-whish.

"Oh yes, I will."

"Well, what was it?"

"I came in your mouth."

"And what else?"-whish-"what else?"

"I don't know."

"Didn't you say you thought I wanted it?"

"Yes."

"Well, confess then."

"I said I thought you wanted it."

"Ah!" and again the blows fell allover my bottom. The burning pain got worse and I struggled and wriggled and kicked so that I at last got away from her and managed to rub the handkerchief away from my eyes and swung round and looked at her.

I never saw such a change in any woman. If she was pretty before, she was lovely now. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks were flushed, the exertion of plying the rod had caused one shoulder strap of her chemise to break and one breast was just exposed.

I looked at her with adoring eyes. I couldn't help it. Angry and hurt as I was in my dignity and elsewhere, I could not but feel admiration and-yes, even affection. She met my eyes.

"Well," she said, "why have you turned round? I haven't finished yet."

"Isn't that enough?" I said. "I've said I'm sorry and confessed my fault."

"Haven't you any other faults to confess?"

"No!"

She rang the bell. I exclaimed, "You're surely not going to let anyone see me like this?"

She made no reply and the door opened and Juliette appeared.

"Juliette, come here," she said. "You see this gentleman here; now repeat before him the accusation you whispered to me just now."

Juliette looked at me with a malicious smile (I remembered that smile) and said, "When I was hanging the gentleman's hat up in the hall, he offered to help me, and then he kissed me and felt my breast and tried to feel my pussy through my skirt."

"You little cat," I said.

"Is that true?" said Mrs. Harcourt. "Answer me," and the birch fell across my thighs as I lay twisted on the couch. It flicked up my shirt-tail and exposed John Thomas to the salacious gaze of Juliette. I was too ashamed to speak.

"Will you answer me!" and again and again came the cutting strokes, one of them just catching poor John Thomas nicely.

"Well, if I did, she did as much to me," I muttered.

"Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Harcourt, as Juliette darted a vicious look at me. "Well, we can investigate that later. Get the bands, Juliette."

Juliette went to the case and produced a long band of webbing-working on a loop and, before I knew what she was about, had slipped it round my ankles and drawn it tight. Now I was indeed helpless.

"Now Juliette," said her mistress, "as it was you who were insulted, it is only fair for you to punish him."

They turned me over face downwards and turned up my shirt.

"Oh, he's had some already, I see," said the maid.

"Yes, a little!" said the mistress. "He can do with some more."

"How many!" said Juliette, taking up the birch. "We'll see."

Then the pain began again. Blow after blow, cut after cut, until my poor bottom felt as if it was on fire. I wriggled as much as I could but couldn't do much. My motions, however, must have pleased Mrs. Harcourt, for she said, "Wait a moment, Juliette, we mustn't be too hard. He shall have some pleasure as well as pain."

She got round to the other side of the couch, raised my head, which was buried in the cushions, and, bending down, whispered to me, "He's a naughty boy, but I love him, so he can kiss me if he likes."

She then pulled up her clothes and presented her pussy backways to me which I could just reach with my tongue. "Now Juliette," she said, "not too hard, and cleverly." I did not feel at all anxious to justify her wishes, but to my surprise the birch fell now in quite a different way. Instead of the slashing cuts which had made me writhe and smart, the blows simply warmed my bottom. Of course now and then it touched an extra sore place and made me flinch, but for the most part the twigs seemed to caress, and the tips of them, curling in between the cheeks, gave me a delightful sensation, and I felt John Thomas answering in a way that surprised me. I forgot my resentment against Mrs. Harcourt and my tongue roamed about her lovely pussy and even went higher and caressed the other "fair demesnes that there adjacent lay" and which presented themselves to my eyes, a proceeding which evidently pleased her, for she opened and shut the cheeks of her bottom, and at last with a quick side twist and a final plunge she forced her pussy right against my mouth, and murmuring, "That will do, Juliette," she smothered my mouth and chin with her delicious cream. She then got up and with Juliette's aid undid my bonds. I lay still, too excited to move. I felt her arm round my neck, while her other caressed my bottom. "Poor boy," she said, "did it hurt very much?"

I turned round and kissed her. I couldn't help it. All my rage and feeling of insult seemed to have disappeared.

"That's right," she said, nestling close to me. "So the whipping did him good! It didn't go on too long though, I hope," she added, quickly pulling up my shirt and looking at my John Thomas, who by this time, after the last part of the birching, was nearly bursting. "No, that's all right. Come to me, darling."

"But Juliette!" I said.

"Oh, never mind her ... Still, perhaps she had better go," she added with a peculiar look. "Juliette, you can go, I shall want you in a quarter of an hour."

Juliette looked very disappointed, but had to go.

"Now, darling," said her mistress, "come to me and love me, and say you forgive your cruel mistress for hurting you." She unfastened the band of her petticoat and let it fall. Then she stepped out of it. Her tea-gown was wide open, and, as I have said, one shoulder of her chemise had broken, so she was practically naked to the waist.

She went to the chair again and sat down right on the edge, lying right back so that her bottom jutted just over the edge. I knelt before her and found her pussy was just at the right height for John Thomas.

Her legs went over my shoulders and I gently placed him in position and began work.

I have never known such an expert in the art of love. Every conceivable motion and twist of her body she used. Her eyes flickered with passion, her lips drew my tongue right into her mouth, while her hands led mine allover her body. She murmured words of love and desire, mingled with pity for my poor bottom. At last she said, "He was a very naughty boy, but it was a shame to cut him up so badly. Never mind, someday perhaps he will have a chance to retaliate." Then the final paroxysm came on and we were both dumb. My motions, which had been slow at first, grew quicker. She plunged and writhed, twisting her legs round my neck and raising her bottom to meet my strokes, until at last, with a half-sob, half-groan, her legs fell down from my shoulders and I poured into her eager womb a deluge of my love.

CHAPTER 4

AN AFTERNOON CALL

(CONTINUED)

We remained motionless like that for a few moments, our lips glued together, our bodies held close to each other. Then Muriel said, "Now I'd better ring for Juliette and towels and water."

We got up and she pressed the bell. Juliette appeared. It was too late now for any modesty on my part. Juliette had seen all I had to show her, so what was the use of pretence. "Hot water, towels, and soap, Juliette," said her mistress. The maid turned to go. "Oh, yes, and some special cream for the poor bottom," she added with a smile.

Juliette disappeared and her mistress turned to me and said, "Let's look at the poor little bottie. Turn round, is it much cut up? Look for yourself." She led me to a mirror fixed down on the wall. I looked over my shoulder. Certainly my poor bottom showed distinct marks of the birch. The skin had not been actually cut, but there were red and violet marks interlaced criss-cross allover it. Also, it was very tender to the touch.

"Poor boy, what a shame," said Muriel. "Still, it will do him good and teach him not to be naughty again."

I smiled a little ruefully. But she flung her arms round my neck and said, "Oh, I love you, darling, every bit of you, and I love your poor dear bottom most of all."

Juliette entered at this moment with a tray on which were a sponge, a silver rose-bowl, some soap and towels, and a pot of cream.

She put them on the table and her mistress turned to me.

"Juliette will wash you," she said. Juliette approached me.

"Will you stand here, sir, please," she said, pointing near the table. I did so. She took John Thomas in one hand and held the bowl in the other. Then she plunged him into the water, gently drawing the foreskin back while she gently rubbed the glans with her fingers. Then she put the bowl down and, taking the soap, soaped him well and sponged him thoroughly, washing all the bush and between my legs. Then she took the towel and thoroughly dried all the parts. "Turn round, please." I turned round. She lifted my shirt and performed a similar service to my bottom. Finally she took some of the cream and rubbed it on the tender places. A delicious cool feeling came over me and all the smarting disappeared. She then raised my trousers, buttoned them, and turned to her mistress.

"Madame is ready?"

"One moment, Juliette," said the latter. "Just now you accused Mr. Prendergast of taking liberties with you and you punished him for it."

"Yes, madame," said Juliette.

"What was it you said he did?"

"He kissed me and felt my breast and tried to feel my pussy."

"Quite so. Now Mr. Prendergast did not deny that but he said something in reply. What was it?" Juliette turned pale.

"Answer me." Still no reply. Muriel turned to me. "What was it you said?" she asked.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," I said, for now the pain of the whipping had passed away I did not feel revengeful. "Never mind what I said."

"But it does matter and I do mind. If I'm not mistaken you said she did as much to you. Am I right?"

I looked at Juliette. She gave me a frightened look.

"Muriel, dear," I said, "never mind that, forget it."

"Oh, I'll forget it in due time," she answered. "Now,

Juliette, answer me. What did you do? You know you had better speak the truth ... When Mr. Prendergast kissed you, did you kiss him back?"

"Yes," in a whisper.

"Did you do anything else?"

Juliette glanced at me. "I just patted his leg and said he was a naughty boy."

"Oh, and what part of his trouser leg did you pat? Show me?" Juliette timidly patted me again. "I thought so," said Muriel sternly. "I guessed as much. So you complained to me that Mr. Prendergast kissed you and tried to feel your pussy, though you at the same time kissed him and tried to feel what he had. Well, you have punished him for his rudeness. Isn't it only fair that you should be punished too?"

I interposed. "No, Muriel, it was my fault, I began it."

"I'm glad you realise that, Cecil, it shows that your whipping did you some good. But I must be the judge of what is proper behaviour in my servants. There was no need for her to imitate you. Now Juliette, don't you think as Mr. Prendergast has been punished, it is only fair that you should be so too? Eh?"

"Yes, madame," said the poor girl.

"You see you have only yourself to blame," went on Muriel. "If you had not told me what Mr. Prendergast had done, I should have known nothing about it and you would have escaped. Now get ready."

"What, before Mr. Prendergast?" stammered Juliette.

"Of course, he was punished in front of you, in fact by you, so it's only fair that he should have a share in your punishment."

The tears rose to Juliette's eyes as she began to undo her belt. The skirt slipped off to the floor. The petticoat followed it. She stepped out of them and stood in her chemise and drawers with downcast and blushing cheeks.

Muriel went to the case and took out a fresh birch.

"Go to the couch. Kneel down." Juliette started and then rushed to me and, flinging herself at my feet, sobbed out, "Oh, sir, I'm so sorry I told on you. Don't let her whip me. I'm sorry I whipped you."

I felt awkward. I was not naturally cruel and I did not bear the girl any grudge. At the same time I felt a keen desire to see her naked bottom and to see her wriggle under the birch. I lifted her up and said I would do my best to persuade her mistress.

The latter was growing impatient. I went to her and begged her to let the girl off lightly. She laughed and said, "All right, I'll stop when you tell me to."

29 I then led Juliette, still weeping, to the couch. She knelt on the edge of it and buried her face in the cushions.

"Lift up your chemise and open your drawers," ordered her mistress. She did as she was told, disclosing two white globes of which no lady need have been ashamed. A dark shadow just between them gave promise of a beautiful dark forest in front. As she was kneeling on the

couch and not on the floor as I was, her bottom was raised higher than her head and the skin stretched quite tight.

"Now," said her mistress, "I'll teach you to tell tales of my guests when you yourself are equally guilty," and whish whish-whish came the birch on the plump cheeks. Juliette sobbed and cried and nervously contracted her bottom to meet the strokes. "There, there, there, and there," went on her mistress, "will you kiss visitors in my hall again, and try and pat their privates? Will you, will you?" The blows descended in quick succession, now on one cheek, now on the other.

Juliette bounded up and down, but did not, as I did, kick about. She knew better. At last two cuts more vigorous than the others and rather lower down were too much for her and in desperation she had to move her legs.

"Ah," said Muriel exultantly, and quick as lightning she rained a shower of blows in between the thighs, reaching with the ends of the twigs the pouting lips of the pussy that Juliette's struggles disclosed.

Juliette shrieked and, letting her body collapse, tried to cover her poor bottom with her hands.

Muriel looked at me. Till then, for the life of me, I could not have interposed to stop the whipping, but now I managed to stammer, "That will do," and Muriel dropped the birch and fell into my arms.

John Thomas had grown greatly excited by the scene, and taking no thought of Juliette, who lay moaning and twisting on the couch, I pushed Muriel on her back beside her and mounted her. Our course was quicker than might have been expected, seeing that I had already done my duty twice that afternoon. I suppose the excitement of seeing Juliette birched and the heating effect of being birched myself had a great deal to do with it. Anyhow, Muriel and I both swam together in a perfect sea of bliss before many moments had passed. Juliette, perceiving that her whipping was over and that other things were

happening, sat up beside us and began to dry her eyes with her chemise.

Her mistress, noticing this, said, "Well, I'm afraid you can't feel Mr. Prendergast's affair now, Juliette, it's too busy; but he can feel your pussy quite well," and she took my hand and pushed it towards Juliette's thighs.

The latter did not dare to resist and I soon found the secret grotto I wanted, and, pushing my fingers well in, gave her some slight gratification in return for her whipping. When we had finished and had got up, Muriel said, "You will have to wash Mr. Prendergast again."

"May I do it my own way?" said Juliette.

"If you like," said her mistress, "but I don't expect you'll get any good from it." To my surprise Juliette knelt down before me and began licking and sucking my limp weapon, but though John Thomas wept a little, I had done too much that afternoon to be able to give any real performance, and after a while she gave it up as a bad job and began to dress herself.

Muriel laughed and I felt a little ashamed, but I promised myself that before long Juliette should have a taste of my quality in more senses than one.

"Come again soon," said Muriel, as she kissed me goodbye most lovingly, and I promised I would without fail. As Juliette was showing me out, I said, "Well, if I kiss you now, will you tell your mistress?"

Her only answer was to put up her lips, and when my lips met hers she pushed her tongue right in my mouth while her hand clutched my old man convulsively.

"You tell her l've kissed you," she murmured, "and then she will make you whip me yourself. I'd love to be whipped by you. I'd suck and kiss you while you were doing it till you dropped the birch with faintness."

Before I could reply she had opened the door and I found myself in the street.

CHAPTER 5

AN INOPPORTUNE ARRIVAL

When I reached home I tried to analyse my feelings and realise what had happened. I could barely believe it was true. It seemed like an impossible dream. Here was I just down from Oxford, aged twenty-three, submitting to be whipped like a naughty boy on my bare bottom by a woman whom I had only met once, and in the presence of another girl whom I had never seen before I called on her mistress. More than that, I had poked and "kissed" the mistress and had been "kissed" by both mistress and maid. Still more, neither woman was a whore in the usually accepted sense of the word. The one was accepted as chaperon for the cousin of my best pal and evidently mixed in quite good society. The maid to all appearance was eminently respectable. No. I couldn't believe my own experience. It was only when I sat down to think things out that my sore bottom brought the truth palpably home to me. I jumped up with a cry and rushed upstairs to my bedroom, locked the door, and in a twinkling had my trousers down and was investigating my bottom in the looking-glass. Gad! but I was marked. Long lines of purple and red showed criss-cross all over both cheeks, with here and there a spot of bright red where the buds on the birch had broken the skin. I got some ointment which I used for soreness after rowing and gave myself a liberal dose.

Then I washed John Thomas, who was looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, dressed myself and went downstairs. My feelings were difficult to analyse. Shame, anger, and a wish for revenge fought with each other. At the same time Muriel's charms were ever before me, and at moments John Thomas made gallant attempts to persuade me that the afternoon was worth everything. Juliette's bottom also rose before my eyes white and plump and round, quivering under the blows of the birch, opening and shutting between the strokes and showing glimpses of the dark pouting lips of her pussy-that pussy which I had felt and found so responsive to my fingers.

What were her last words? "I should love you to whip me." By Gad, I thought, why not? Surely it was worth risking another whipping

myself to get the chance of making those lovely cheeks flinch and squirm. And then Muriel! What a gorgeous poke. How her tongue had caressed my old man. How her pussy had drawn every bit of life from me! Yes, undoubtedly I must call again.

So I argued that night. But next morning doubt and nervousness came over me again, and eventually it was quite a week before I rang the bell again at the little house in South Molton Street.

Juliette opened the door and smiled when she saw me.

"Madame was wondering why you had not called," she said.

"She is rather angry with you, sir, in consequence, I fancy," she added with a meaning look. "She does not like to be neglected. But she is not at home now."

"Can I come in and wait?"

"Oh, yes, sir, if you like."

So I went in and shut the door. She led me into the little morning-room and for a moment we looked at each other. Then without any delay or explanation, we seemed to fall into each other's arms, our tongues met, and our right hands dived straight between each other's legs. John Thomas rose at once and I found Juliette's soft little pussy already dribbling with expectation. I urged her gently back to an armchair and, kneeling before her, placed John Thomas in the haven where he would be. Her bottom lifted itself to meet him and we came together in a mutual flood of love.

"Tell me, Juliette," I said when we had finished, "does Muriel whip you often?"

"As often as she gets the chance," she said with a wry little smile.

"But why do you submit," I said, "and how did it begin? It isn't usual for maids to be whipped."

"I'll tell you someday," she answered. "It's too long a story for now. Besides, she's very good to me and I get more pleasure with her than I should anywhere else."

She cuddled close to me and fondled John Thomas, who evidently enjoyed it.

"You said something to me as I was going away last time that puzzled me," I said after a minute.

She blushed a little.

"Come," I said, "do you really like being whipped?"

"Don't you?" "No, I'm damned if I do," I answered with a laugh.

"Oh, you will in time. I don't always. There are different sorts of whippings. I didn't like being whipped the other day by Muriel in front of you, for she was wicked and jealous. But you, when I whipped you, didn't you like it? Wasn't it different to the whipping Muriel had given you?"

"Yes," I said reflectively, "it certainly was different."

"Well," she went on, "if I like a person I do like him or her and want to do all and everything to please. With Muriel, for instance, when she's nice and wants me"-she blushed a little as she said this-"I'm willing to submit to anything. I know she wants to see my nakedness and watch my bottom wriggle, so I do all I can to gratify her, but when she's angry and only wants to punish me, I hate her and want to hurt her."

"Haven't you ever whipped her?"

"Good Lord no! That's not her game, she's no Masochist. I only wish she were and I had the chance. I'd pay her back. But she's much too strong for me, and besides, I'm different, I don't like giving pain and she does. It's only when I'm angry with her."

"Hm," I said.

"What are you thinking of?"

"I was thinking, well, I don't know much about this matter, but I know this. I'd love to get my own back for my last call here. Now you and I together, eh? Couldn't we master her?" Her eyes gleamed, then dropped. "She'd kill me," she said. "Oh no. I'd see she did not do that. I'd make her promise to bear no malice and I don't think she would. If she did, I'd see you came out all right. The worst she could do would be to turn you out, and then you could come to me. I am looking for a flat to settle down in and should want a housekeeper, eh?"

"Oh, that would be lovely," she replied.

"But you haven't answered my question. Would you really like me to whip you?"

"Try," was all she answered. And before I knew what she was doing she had slipped off the chair and pulled up her skirt and petticoat above her waist behind, showing her dainty drawers.

"Sit down there," she said, pointing to the chair she had just left.

I obeyed her. She then laid herself across my knees, face downwards with her head towards my left arm, and pulled her drawers open behind, showing the beautiful curves of her bottom, the cheeks of which stood out like two lovely white moons, though still slightly marked from last week's whipping.

"Now smack me and see if I like it."

I gazed at the snowy globes with the shady valley between. Just at the meeting of her legs a few tendrils of dark hair showed themselves, promising other, more secret delights.

I smacked her lightly with my hand. It was more of a caress than a blow.

She lay still.

Smack-smack-smack, and my fingers crept between her legs.

"No, not yet," she said, "I want you to smack me."

I humoured her and I smacked both cheeks quickly till they began to grow pink.

"Harder, harder!"

I smacked more severely. Her bottom became appreciably warmer.

"Harder still," she said, "harder!"

I did as she said, and my own hand began to tingle. The joy and lust of domination began to grow in me. After one or two really hard blows, she shifted slightly and heaved her bottom, opening her legs a little. I gave her several harder smacks. She sighed and wriggled. I stopped.

"Go on," she said at once.

"But I'm hurting you."

"I want you to hurt me," she murmured fiercely. "I want you to hurt my bottom. Can't you see it growing red and hot? Hurt me, hurt me."

Her passion, though I didn't really understand it, fired me, and I took her at her word. Blow after blow fell on her plump cheeks and at

length her sighs came quicker and quicker and became more like gasps. Her bottom heaved and opened and contracted, her legs parted and I could see the lips of her pussy parting and closing again as if eager for satisfaction. Desire now took full possession of me and I smacked her as hard as I could, seizing every opportunity of making my hand reach the more hidden and secret retreats. It was a strange and maddening delight to me. After two or three blows on her firm bottom I felt my fingers strike the softer lips of her pussy. Once or twice I managed to reach that delightful spot with my finger tips while my palm just managed to get between the plump cheeks. This seemed to madden her as much as it did me. She flung her legs apart, pushing up her bottom, keeping it as wide open as possible. She muttered inarticulate cries, and at last after several blows which hit both marks full, she sank down heavily on my knees, imprisoning my hand between her thighs, which closed on my fingers like a vice. I felt her pussy throb and throb again and then a warm flood spread allover my hand. I raised her up and held her close in my arms.

"You darling," she murmured, "take me, I am yours utterly."

Her hands slid down and with feverish haste unbuttoned my trousers.

John Thomas, as was only to be expected, was rampant. "Give him to me," she half-sobbed.

"How would you like him?" I asked with interest, for I had not forgotten how she had asked to be allowed to wash it in her own way.

"Any way, so long as he is in me ... in front, behind, any way, I don't care. I'm yours, all of me. Take all of me, darling, my master!" and she threw herself at my feet, embracing my legs, half sobbing and writhing with unappeased passion.

I lifted her up to her knees and she seized my affair with her lips and, flinging her arms round my bottom, began to lick and suck it with avidity.

"Oh, so that's the way you entertain my guests in my absence, is it?"

I turned hastily. There stood Muriel. She had evidently just come in. Her latch-key was still in her hand. She was holding the door open.

CHAPTER 6

THE TABLES ARE TURNED

Juliette collapsed on the floor with a cry of terror. I stood stock-still like a fool.

Certainly I must have presented a ridiculous figure, trousers unbuttoned, a rampant engine well exposed. "Get up, you," said Muriel to Juliette, going to her and touching her with her foot. "You," turning to me, "can either go or stay, but if you stay..." She paused ominously.

"I'll stay," I said, for I had an idea.

"As you please. I see I have arrived in time," looking at my open trousers. "So you can ... but ... I rather think you will be sorry."

She led the way upstairs, and I found myself again in the boudoir.

Juliette was already there, shaking with nervousness. "Where are the cases?" thundered Muriel at her. "Did you think I had you up here to talk to you?" and she suddenly gave her two swinging boxes on the ears.

The poor girl hurried out of the room.

"Muriel," I urged, "don't be too cruel to her. It was my fault chiefly."

"Don't you fret yourself, my man, you'll get all you want." Juliette reappeared carrying the leather case which I recognised.

"Both cases, you fool," said her mistress. Juliette gave an even more terrified cry than before, but did not dare to argue.

She went out and came back with another, similar case. Muriel unlocked the first. "Undress yourself," she said; then to me: "And you tie her hands with this," giving me a long piece of webbing. "I must take my corsets off or I shan't have freedom enough for my arm."

Juliette tremblingly undid her skirt and let it fall, and waited.

"Everything," said her mistress, "didn't you hear?

Everything, or it will be the worse for you." Juliette then undid her blouse and took it off. A dainty camisole appeared. That was removed. Then the petticoat. Then the little corsets were undone and she stood simply in chemise and drawers, the lace frills of the latter peeping alluringly below the hem of the chemise. Her trembling hands groped under the chemise, she pulled the string and the frilly little legs fell round her ankles. She stepped out of them and stood waiting.

"I thought I said everything!"

A crimson flood invaded the poor girl's cheeks and neck.

"You needn't pretend to such modesty," sneered Muriel. "A girl who will kneel down to kiss a man in a sitting-room needn't be shy of stripping naked before him in a boudoir, especially when there is another woman to protect her." Juliette lifted the chemise and began to pull it over her head. I saw first her thighs appear, beautifully shaped and moulded like towers of ivory, then the dainty little bush, still dewy with our mingled love; next a sweet rounded little belly, smooth and firm. I noticed the dainty waist line and, above, two perfect pear-shaped breasts with bright red nipples standing out firm and bold, though all support had been removed. As she raised her arms above her head, I saw the silky hair in her armpits, matching the thicker curls of her bush.

Then the chemise slipped off her wrists and she stood a slight timid figure, perfect, desirable and appealing. I heard a sigh of appreciation from Muriel. "Now tie her wrists together," she said to me.

I had to obey. She watched me as I fumbled with the webbing.

"Now stretch her on the couch."

I bent her down as she had been bent down the other afternoon.

"No, not that way. She must be crucified."

"Madame," stammered Juliette.

"Silence," hissed Muriel as she placed some cushions across the middle of the couch, forming a ridge.

She then dragged Juliette to the couch and flung her face downwards so that the lower part of her belly and the top of her thighs rested right on the cushions. This naturally raised her bottom and thighs, making her body form a very broad inverted V.

"But what's the meaning of this?" she said as she saw the cheeks of the poor bottom still blushing slightly from my recent smacking. "Do you mean to say you've dared?" she went on, turning to me. "Oh, you, just wait."

She said no more but took hold of Juliette's right ankle and pulled the leg towards the edge of the couch. Then, stooping down, she caught hold of a silk cord that was fixed to the side of the couch, evidently for that purpose. It had a running loop at the end. This she slipped over the girl's foot and drew it tight. She then pulled the other leg as far apart as possible and fixed that in the same way.

Poor Juliette was now perfectly spread-eagled. Her arms were above her head tied at the wrists, her head was buried in the couch. Her bottom was raised, as I have said, by the ridge of cushions and seemed to invite the lash, and her wide-opened thighs revealed the mossy lips of her pussy, still slightly open. There she lay, a piteous little figure, all white. The only contrast was her dark hair, slight silky tendrils in her armpits, the suggestive shadow between the cheeks of her bottom, the soft curls between her legs, and last of all, showing up vividly against the whiteness of her skin, her long black silk stockings, just a study in black and white, no touch of colour anywhere, for she wore black

garters. I feasted my eyes on the lovely vision. How could anyone, I wondered, hurt such a dainty graceful creature?

I looked at Muriel. Her eyes showed clearly that she was by no means insensible to the alluring picture. But there was a gleam of fierceness as well as admiration in her glance.

"Now," she said suddenly, "I must get rid of my corsets. I shan't be long. You can admire the dainty darling's white skin while I'm gone. There won't be much white left after I've finished with her," and she went quickly into her bedroom, leaving the door open.

Now, I had decided to stay in the hopes of carrying out my scheme of vengeance on Muriel, and I had no intention of assisting at the punishment of Juliette. But when I saw the preparations and how helpless Juliette was rendered by her bonds, I began to doubt the possibility of succeeding in my object. Though no doubt I could have mastered Muriel by brute strength, there would probably have been a struggle, and Juliette's help would have been of the greatest use. All the time Muriel was pinioning Juliette my mind was working quickly, but I hesitated to make any attempt to seize her, preferring to wait until the last moment.

Now, however, that she was out of the way I saw my chance. Quick as thought I sprang to Juliette's wrists and began to loosen the knots. She raised her head, gave a little cry of surprise and fear. I put one hand on her mouth and whispered, "Keep quiet and pretend to be still tied. Remember what I said downstairs. Now is our chance. Keep your hands just as they are, till I tell you. Then free your feet and help me."

I had only just time to loosen the knots and replace the webbing so that it still looked tight, and to get away from the couch, when Muriel appeared. She had put on the tea-gown again, with the loose sleeves. I was standing by the table when she came in, looking at the open case which contained the birches. There were four different sizes.

"Looking at my little ticklers?" she smiled. "There are some more in here," and she opened the other case.

Then I understood Juliette's cry of alarm when Muriel told her that she wanted both cases.

There were no birches in this one. Two or three canes of varying thicknesses, a couple of old-fashioned ladies' riding whips-not the modern hunting crop, but whips of long flexible whalebone with lashes at the end-a whip of seven knotted cords, very fine, but looking very wicked, and last of all a sort of birch made of wire, the ends of which were bent at right angles.

"Pretty, aren't they?" said Muriel, laughing. "They'll come in later. We'll begin with this."

She turned to the other case and selected a long pliant birch, weighing it in her hand and swishing it in the air. Now was my opportunity. As she turned from me to the couch and the prone girl waiting, I suddenly flung my arms around her, pinioning both arms tightly to her side.

CHAPTER 7

THE FASCINATION BEGINS.

She was completely taken by surprise. She had scarcely time to gasp out an exclamation of anger. "Juliette," I cried as she struggled violently in my arms.

Juliette quickly got her wrists free and, reaching down, got her ankles from the loops. Then she ran to me as I was holding the squirming, kicking Muriel.

The latter was like an eel. She kicked, she bit, or tried to, but my arms were tight round her middle, and as she had taken off her corsets, my grip crushed her ribs and gradually winded her.

Juliette, avoiding with difficulty the kicking legs, managed to get the band of webbing round first one wrist and then the other and draw it tight. My grip had not relaxed and in a comparatively short time Madame Muriel's wrists were bound together.

She still grasped the birch and all the time was pouring out indignant and angry expostulations. There was no trace of fear, however, as yet. Pride, rage, and hate showed in every glance and tone.

When Juliette had finally and satisfactorily tied her hands, I dragged Muriel to the couch and pushed her onto it. She sat and glared at me, out of breath and exhausted.

Her tea-gown had come unfastened at the waist and fell apart. Except for her stockings and shoes, she was absolutely naked. She evidently had intended to have a perfect field day. Well, she should not be disappointed.

I turned to Juliette with a smile: "Well, what shall we do to her? How shall we begin? You know more about these things than I do."

"Spank her first; the hand will prepare her bottom nicely for the birch," said she. "Shall I hold her down for you?" "No," I said, "I'll hold her and you can begin. Come along, Muriel dear. This is a little different from what you intended, isn't it? It will be a new experience for you, eh? Will you turn over of your own accord or shall I help you?"

She made no answer, so I went to her and took her by the wrists. She dragged her hands away and suddenly, bending down, seized one of my hands with her teeth and bit it hard. "You little devil," I shouted, "you shall pay for that," and I brought my other hand heavily down on her ear and cheek. The force of the blow knocked her head on one side and made her release my hand. With a quick twist I turned her over and held her face down on the couch, her legs hanging over the side. Juliette stood at one side of her and, dodging the kicking, plunging legs, proceeded to deliver a shower of smart smacks on the plump cheeks and thighs.

The blows fell at random, here, there, and everywhere, with no direction and without much real effect, as Muriel was dodging too much. After a minute or so Juliette stopped and looked at her palm.

"It's hurting me more than her," she laughed, "we'd better begin seriously. Put her as she put me."

I pulled Muriel further onto the couch and managed to get her belly and thighs over the ridge of cushions, and then leant heavily on her back, while Juliette with great difficulty secured one leg in the silk loop.

All this time Muriel was struggling and shouting: "I won't be tied down, I won't be whipped. Don't you dare to touch me, or I'll pay you for this afterwards."

I took no notice, but when her legs were firmly secured, I pulled the tea-gown up over her shoulders as far as I could and said, "Yes, it's a little different to what you intended, isn't it? Instead of you feasting

your eyes on our naked bodies and enjoying the sight of our bottoms reddening and writhing under your blows, it's your nakedness we are going to look at, it's your bottom and thighs that are going to blush and quiver. Are you looking forward to the treat? Come, answer me."

"I'll kill you," she hissed.

"Oh, no you won't, you're going to beg my pardon, to beg both our pardons, in fact, and thank us for showing you your proper place. Now Juliette, will you begin? I'll enjoy the scene for the moment."

I kept my left hand pressed on her back and with my right I stroked the beautiful loins and bottom and thighs, which lay bare to my touch. If Juliette had made an alluring picture with her dark hair and clear white skin, her mistress easily rivalled her. She was a little the plumper of the two and fairer, and whereas Juliette's colouring was pale, Muriel's skin was flushed slightly with pink. Their two bodies made a delightful contrast.

The idea struck me of comparing them, and when Juliette came back with a birch I asked her to lie beside her mistress for a moment so that I might see both their naked bodies together. She obeyed at once, and I revelled in the lovely vision. So lovely was it that I could not resist the temptation but took out my old man and was about to make good use of the favourable position of the two girls. But when Juliette saw what I was about, she stopped me.

"That will come later; business first," and she got up and stood by the couch, raising the birch in the air.

"Now madame," she said, "just a little gentle correction for your impudent bottom. How do you like it?" as the twigs fell right across the left cheek. "You are so generous with it to others, you ought to be grateful. Is it nice? nice, eh? nice nice? ...Oh, you're sulky, are you, you won't speak, won't you, we'll see about that. Answer me at once, will you? at once-at once." The blows fell quicker and quicker, but Muriel

made no sound. She lay practically motionless with her head buried in the couch. Her flesh flinched each time the blows fell across her bottom, but she made no cry or any sound.

"Still obstinate," said Juliette, "we won't allow that and must persevere." She came round to the other side and proceeded to visit the other cheek. Then she went lower and cut across the thighs, but though Muriel's contortions grew more convulsive, she still kept silent, until at last one blow of the birch curled right between her legs and a stifled cry of pain escaped her lips.

"Ah, I thought I should succeed before long," said Juliette, as she rested for a moment. "Will you begin now, sir?"

I took the birch, or what was left of it, for the twigs had broken off at every stroke.

What a change now in Muriel's bottom. No longer was the skin clear and pink and white. An angry red flush covered the centre of both cheeks, from which ran lines of red and violet which disappeared round the legs and cheeks towards the hips.

"Now Muriel," I said, "Juliette has finished for the moment. It is my turn now. I am going to give you a lesson in behaviour towards your guests. How do you like that, and that," as the swift strokes fell. "Will you answer me?" I went on, as she still remained dumb, and the blows redoubled. "There!" said Juliette, pointing with her finger between the cheeks of Muriel's bottom and the legs stretched wide open. "That will make her speak."

I followed her advice and gave three crashing blows that cut and curled along the inside of her thighs and reached the hidden lips of her pussy.

It evidently proved effective. Shriek after shriek came from Muriel as she twisted and writhed.

"Not there, let me go," she cried. "Oh, oh, oh. No, don't, don't, no more," as the blows fell again.

Hysterical sobs shook her whole body. I stopped whipping her and said, "Ah, you've found your voice have you? Well, are you going to behave better in the future?" "Oh, yes, yes!"

"And do you like being whipped," I went on, "and is it as nice as whipping others? Do you like showing your nakedness and your bottom to Juliette and me?"

She only sobbed in reply and I thought she was punished enough and was going to release her when Juliette noticed what I was doing and stopped me.

"No, no, not yet, she hasn't had nearly enough. Don't you remember, she said I was to be crucified? Well, I know what that means, I've had some." She went to the other case and brought out the two riding whips and a couple of canes and gave me one of each. I dropped the stump of the birch and waited.

"Now madame," she said, "you've shown me more than once what you call crucifixion. I hope I shan't forget your teaching. Let me see. This comes first, doesn't it?" and she brought the cane heavily across both cheeks of the quivering bottom.

A shriek of pain from Muriel. She raised herself up and twisted herself to one side to avoid the blow. I had left her when I had finished birching her, so that she could move freely, except that her hands and feet were tied.

"By Jove, that seems to touch the spot," I said, "how do you like that, dear? It seems a little more effective than the birch. What does it feel like? Come, tell me."

Muriel only groaned and writhed convulsively.

"Come, answer me, or can't you quite tell from one cut? Does that make it clearer to you?" and I brought the cane heavily down about half an inch below the livid weal left from Juliette's blow.

A positive howl of anguish came from Muriel. She raised her body and twisted about as if she was on fire.

"You mustn't move about like that. Not only are you making a most indecent exhibition of yourself but you are doing no good. Come, what is it like? Is it nicer than the birch or do you miss the tingling twigs?"

Still no reply, but sobs and moans. I grew impatient. "Will you answer?" and I made the cane whistle through the air, but didn't touch her with it. Her bottom shuddered with apprehension.

"Oh, it's awful," she gasped, "it's like a bar of hot iron burning into my flesh."

"Ah, well, you're going to have quite a lot of those hot bars. In fact, your bottom will be quite a gridiron before we've finished with it."

"Yes, but she mustn't plunge about like that," said Juliette, "or we shan't be able to get a pretty pattern on her bottom and thighs. She likes pretty patterns, I know, for she has often shown me the designs she has traced on me after she has finished. There's nothing like neatness and finish for any work. If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing well. That's what you often say, isn't it, madame?" she sneered. Muriel didn't answer.

"Ah, she's lost her voice; we'll find it for her in a minute. Will you help me, sir?" She seized her mistress' wrists: "There should be a cord here. As you say, sir, there is no use in countenancing any more indecent exposure than is necessary."

She found a cord at the head of the couch similar to those that fastened Muriel's ankles. She fastened it to the webbing round the wrists and

drew it tight. Then she took up the cane again and went back to her former position.

"Will you, please, stand opposite me, sir, and take your time from me? Don't hurry and be careful how you place your blows. There should be room for a dozen a side, I should think."

She measured carefully with her fingers the distance from the dimples just above the cheeks, where the plumpness began to swell, down along the thighs to just above the knees.

"Yes, she can take twelve easily, I fancy. Will you try to keep an accurate distance between each cut just as you have already?"

She pointed to the two livid blue marks, which contrasted with the untouched skin between them.

"Now," she said, raising the cane and bringing it down just below the dimples at the top of the cheeks. An angry red line appeared and another shriek from Muriel.

I raised my cane. "Just there," said Juliette, pointing just below.

Crash fell the cane. Another yell.

"What, more hot iron?" sneered Juliette.

Crash fell her cane just below my mark and crash my cane followed hers.

"Don't hurry," she insisted. "We've only got a dozen each. It will do none of us any good; she won't be able to appreciate each separate cut and we shall be finished before we have begun. It would be a pity for her not to realise the care we are taking to do the thing properly."

"Shall we count the strokes out loud, then we shall be more deliberate," I said.

"Let her count them to us," said Juliette. "Let me see, that makes four. Four, do you hear, madame? Now please call the others."

I took hold of her hair and raised her head. "Do as you're told. That was four. Count the rest. What comes next?" I pulled her head right back. "Five," she gasped in terror.

"Five it is," said Juliette, and again the cane fell.

"Oh, mercy, mercy," moaned the victim.

"Go on counting."

"Six."

I let go of her hair and, carefully directing the cane, brought it down just below Juliette's last mark. We had just reached the summit of the rounded hillocks and the cane fell full on the firm flesh.

"Ah, God," said Muriel, "I shall die, you are killing me." "I'm not dead," said Juliette, "and I've had more than this from you, and I haven't got so much fat to protect me as this," she added bitterly, rubbing her hand down over the wounded flesh. Muriel shrank under the touch. "Well, we are waiting, madame. Hadn't you better continue? The sooner it's over, the better for you."

"Seven!" gasped Muriel, and the seventh blow fell.

"Eight." I followed. "Nine. Oh, finish, finish, for pity's sake."

"Now, you're too impatient! Is it so nice that you can't wait? Well, there you are then, as you seem to want it."

"Ten, eleven, twelve." The blows had now reached the thighs, softer and more tender than the plumper cheeks. The cane gave quite a different sound and a still more piercing shriek came from Muriel. She tried with all her strength to drag her feet from the loops and bring her thighs together. But the cords held firm and she could only contract the muscles of her thighs, which rose and fell again on the ridge of pillows. Her hands clutched convulsively at the webbing and relaxed. Her head rolled from side to side. Her whole body heaved.

"Perhaps we may as well finish by ourselves," said Juliette, who seemed to be growing excited. I must admit that I myself felt a growing impatience. I wanted to strike and strike again at this helpless flesh, and my next three blows were rather at random.

"Steady," said Juliette, "don't spoil the gridiron."

"That's better, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four."

"There, look, it could not be better, one could write music on those clefs."

She stood resting on the cane, panting slightly. Muriel had stopped shrieking; only moans and hoarse choking sobs came, shaking her whole body.

I looked at Juliette. To tell the truth I was rather frightened lest we had done too much. I must have shown this in my face, for she laughed. "Oh, don't be afraid, we haven't half-finished yet, she can bear lots more. But we must shift her for the finale. Isn't it a lovely picture, though?" and she traced the straight lines with her fingers in a fierce joy.

"Ah, madame, do you remember the first time you crucified me? I haven't forgotten. How you laughed! It's my turn to laugh now, isn't it? You didn't think then that Juliette was to have the chance to write her name on your naked bottom, or you mightn't have been so keen on showing me how it was done."

She went to the loops which fastened the legs and took them off. "Now turn her over on her back," she said to me. "Perhaps she would rather display her breasts and belly than her hinder parts." I went to Muriel and pulled her towards me. She made no resistance. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were wet with her tears, her whole body shook with gasping sobs. I rolled her over on her back and Juliette quickly refastened the legs. When she felt her bottom resting on the cushions, she started and screamed with the pain and tried to turn over again, but she was too late. Juliette had secured the ankles.

"Now, madame, for the real crucifixion." She pulled open the tea-gown at the neck and displayed all her mistress' charms.

There she lay outstretched for sacrifice, her breasts standing out firm, her belly raised by the ridge of cushions on which her bottom rested, while her legs, stretched as wide apart as possible, showed all her sex.

Scarcely a mark of her chastisement showed from our present point of view, only between her legs a few marks of the birch showed and the lips of her pussy seemed swollen slightly and flushed.

She presented altogether a maddening spectacle to my eyes, which wandered over all her body. Her position was ideal for any form of attack and I couldn't resist the temptation of putting my hand between her legs and investigating the gaping lips of her pussy.

Juliette watched me jealously. "Do you want to be in her? I should wait till to-morrow, but you can go on doing that if you like while I finish the crucifixion. It won't interfere with me. In fact, it will make it all the more amusing. She will have two different kinds of tickling at the same time."

My fingers began to probe the soft clinging lips of Muriel's pussy, while Juliette flicked the nipples of her breasts with the lash of one of the riding whips. She stood at the head of the couch and Muriel's white body lay stretched between us. Under the gentle persuasion of my

fingers Muriel's sobs and groans gradually changed into sighs. Her thighs contracted, little twitchings and spasms ran over her smooth belly, evidently the pain of the whipping had not taken all sexual feeling from her.

"Tell me when she comes," said Juliette eagerly, as the little lash flicked here and there with a sort of wicked caress. "Now," I said as I felt the lips of Muriel's pussy contract, and her bottom heaved with convulsive thrusts and her thighs contracted and imprisoned my hand.

I was not prepared for what followed. Without a word of warning, Juliette lifted the whip above her head and brought it heavily down on her mistress' body, straight up and down between her breasts, causing a long straight weal starting from the valley between her breasts, crossing the navel, and ending just above the dainty brown curls of the bush where the lash cut the skin and a few beads of blood appeared. Muriel's sighs and moans of passion changed to a shriek of agony, but Juliette paid no heed. She stepped to one side and again brought the whip down on the unprotected body, but this time across from side to side, just across the breasts. Another weal appeared, making a perfect cross. I felt Muriel's body grow suddenly limp. I looked at her face; it was deadly pale. She had fainted.

How beautiful she looked there, with her arms tied above her head, her eyes closed, her mouth partly open, her head drooping, the purple lines of the cross showing up on her deathly pale skin, her firm plump legs stretched this way and that, revealing the beautiful mossy curls and soft lips of her pussy, still dewy with the involuntary sacrifice to love. I looked to Juliette to see what she would do and went to unfasten the loops.

"Oh, she'll come round all right," said Juliette, "you needn't worry. I've had lots worse from her than that. Don't untie her yet."

"I won't have her whipped any more," I said. "We've given her quite enough. Get some water and bring her round." Juliette went to the

bedroom, and I chafed Muriel's hands and cheeks. Her eyes slowly opened and she looked at me. I was prepared for anger and resentment, but instead of that I only saw submission and appeal.

"Cruel, cruel," she murmured. "How could you be so cruel?"

I bent down and kissed her lips. "I'm sorry," I answered, "but you had to learn who was master. Have you learnt it?" Her eyes said yes and I kissed her again.

Juliette came back with smelling-salts and cold water. Her mistress' eyes glowered as she saw her approach. I saw the look. "Now there must be no resentment against Juliette," I said. "Let her help you to bed and take care of you, and I will call and see you to-morrow."

"No, don't let her come near me," said Muriel, "I won't have her. You take care of me," turning to me, "I want you." "You will do as you are told," I said firmly, for I realised it was the only way to keep my new found sovereignty. "Now Juliette, kiss your mistress and be friends."

"Let me help you, madame," said Juliette, "you know I have always let you help me when you have whipped me."

"We will both see to you," I said. "Juliette, get the bath ready."

I undid Muriel's bonds and gently raised her up. She could not bear to sit on her poor bottom, but hung round my neck and across my knees, the picture of abject submission.

"Oh, my lover, my king," she murmured, "you have won me, you have mastered me. I am your slave, I love, I worship you."

Juliette came back to say that the bath was ready, and between us we carried Muriel into the bathroom, which led off her bedroom, and laid her in it.

Juliette took the soap bowl and, making a lovely lather, prepared to cover her mistress with it. Some of the soap splashed on me.

"You'll get your clothes spoiled," she said, "you had better take them off."

I did as she suggested and in a minute or two was as naked as they were. We soaped Muriel all over and then Juliette produced a flask of some sweet-scented oil which she gently applied to the poor scorched bottom and thighs. She dried her tenderly and laid her on the cool sheet. Muriel gave a little sigh of fatigue and closed her eyes. I took a towel and began to dry myself. Juliette was putting things straight, going here and there quickly as she replaced bottles and soap and brushes.

It might have been Ancient Rome-Rome of the Empire. This marble bathroom, myself a young patrician, and Juliette a slave-girl attending on my wants.

I watched her slim form everywhere, my desire growing hotter and hotter, until at last she stooped down with her back to me to pick something up from the floor and in so doing showed me all her lovely bottom and the darling little pussy pouting out between her thighs.

I did not say a word, but silently came behind her, caught her round the hips and thrust John Thomas between the lips which were ready and eager to receive him.

She gave a little start of surprise, then a pleased laugh. "You silly impetuous boy. Why not wait until we can be comfortable?"

But I was far too eager to wait and began working in and out with vigour.

"Cecil," called Muriel, "where are you? I want you."

"I can't come for the moment, I'm busy. I'll be with you in a minute."

"But I want you now. What are you doing?"

Juliette chuckled. I made no answer, but went on working. I was just finished when I saw Muriel's reflection in the glass standing on the floor.

"I thought as much," she said.

I had finished my work and turned to face her. Juliette also turned coolly and faced her mistress.

I could not help comparing this interruption with the other, earlier one that afternoon.

"What are you doing here?" I said. "Go back to bed. Do

you want another whipping?"

"I wanted you," she said humbly.

"Well, I was busy, as you see. I'll come to you in a minute, in fact, we will both come."

She darted a look of hatred at Juliette.

"None of that," I said, "I won't have it. You must be friends with Juliette. Go and kiss her at once."

She hesitated.

"Go and kiss her at once, or shall I fetch the whip?"

"Oh, no, no," she shuddered and went slowly towards Juliette.

An idea struck me. "Kneel down," I said, "and kiss those other lips of hers. You said you wanted me. Well, you'll find some of me there. Kiss her and thank her for whipping you." It was lovely to see the conflict of pride and fear in Muriel. She gave Juliette and me a quick glance and then, sobbing, knelt down before her maid's naked body and pressed her lips on the thick curls.

"Say what I told you to say," I urged.

"Thank you, Juliette," she sobbed stammeringly, "for whipping me."

It was too much for her and she bowed her head and wept.

Juliette's pity was moved. "Oh, Muriel," she said, as she gently raised her mistress, "don't be angry with me, forgive me if I hurt you."

She raised her to her feet and the two women fell into each other's arms.

"That's right," I said, "now we will go to bed."

CHAPTER 8

THE TURNING POINT

Looking back on my life, I date my conversion-as an evangelical person would express it-from that afternoon. Until I met Muriel I had really no knowledge or experience of the vagaries of vice. My life, till then, had been absolutely normal. Apart from the usual pseudo-sodomy of a public school-Masturbatio intra Nates, as Krafft-Ebing styles it which practice I discarded and despised on going up to Oxford, I had simply sought women for straightforward fornication. Naturally certain subtleties of pleasure had been learnt, but until I had suffered at Muriel's hands and had been able to retaliate, I knew nothing of the intense, though recondite, delights of domination and humiliation. I realise on careful introspection that I had always a natural bias towards Sadism. Even as a small boy I played the game of "school" with my little sister, with the natural consequence of "whippings." I remember also, when on a holiday in Derbyshire at the age of fifteen, finding a book in the rooms where we were staying, in which there was a whipping chapter. The orphan daughter of a poor curate became a "town apprentice" to the wife of the local doctor. Her mistress ill-treated her and one day, finding her sweet-hearting with some man, gave her what was called a "workhouse supper.

The description of this thrashing with a strap at night on the bare bottom gave me, I remember, a terrific erection, and in spite of relieving myself in the usual way of a boy of fifteen, I had that night my first wet dream when the scene of the story was vividly re-enacted in my sleep.

Anyhow, whether naturally disposed that way or not, I went home that afternoon triumphant and elated. I had achieved my object of getting even with Muriel and had, at any rate for the time being, subdued and dominated her, and the joy of possession was far surpassed by the gloating satisfaction I felt at the thought that she was my slave, subdued and humiliated.

My desire towards her for the future was no longer sexual intercourse but domination, subjection.

In this spirit I hastened to see her the next day. Before leaving her I had given her strict instructions that she was on no account to retaliate either in deed or even attitude towards Juliette for the humiliation and crucifixion of that afternoon. I had also told Juliette that if Muriel attempted anything of the kind she was to tell me at once, and that for her own sake she was on no account to submit, or it might be the worse for her. "I am going to be your master," I said, "just as I am going to be hers, and I will have no one sharing my power." Determined therefore to keep my new-won servants, I arrived at the house next day. Juliette as usual opened the door. She was rather pale and her eyes were slightly red. I asked her what was the matter. "Muriel has been cruel to me," she said.

"But I thought I told you you were not to submit."

"I couldn't help it. She has been my tyrant too long, one cannot break one's bonds in a minute."

"What did she do? She couldn't have done much. She was too exhausted."

"Oh, she slept after you left, and during the evening she woke up and sent for me. I found her much recovered though still stiff and sore. She at once went for me for betraying her into your power and vowed that even though she might not be able to get even with you, I should pay for my treachery. I told her what you had said, and how you had ordered me not to submit, but she would not listen. I resisted all I knew, but she is very strong, much stronger than I, and you don't know, you can't know, what it means to have been in a woman's thrall for years as I have been. Luckily her experience of the afternoon had shaken her so much that she fainted before she had done much, but look!" She lifted her skirt behind, bent down, and pulled open her drawers. There were about a dozen livid weals right across her bottom.

"What did she do that with?" I asked.

"With the riding whip. She was going to use the wire birch, she threatened me, but the excitement and exertion of this was too much and she fainted."

"She shall pay for it," I said. "But you-I told you you were not to submit to her. How dared you disobey me?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"Sorry! Couldn't help it! Yes, you will be sorry and you'll learn to help it. Take me to her."

She looked frightened at my words, but led the way upstairs to Muriel's room.

Muriel was in bed, looking rather pale but very lovely. Her hair was loose about her shoulders. She looked up as I came in and smiled with pleasure.

"Oh, Cecil, I was hoping you would come. I am longing for you."

"Hm," I said, "are you? What is this Juliette has been telling me? I thought I told you you were not to retaliate on her for your punishment of yesterday and now I find her with a bruised bottom and she says that but for fainting you would have done more."

"Surely I can punish my own property? I know I am your slave, but surely in my own house I am mistress."

"Your property, you mistress? You may have been before yesterday, but now, I have learned what power means and thanks always to you, you must remember-you are both my property, you obey me. If I give you permission you may perhaps be allowed to correct Juliette, but not without my permission, nor in my absence. Do you clearly understand

that? Juliette, go and get the cases. I had better fix this new system in both your minds."

Juliette obeyed. Muriel turned white and began to sob.

"You are not going to whip me again, surely. I'm sore all over still from yesterday, you could not be so cruel."

"Oh, there must be lots of places left. Let me see." And I pulled back the bed-clothes quickly before she had time to see what I was doing. Her night-dress had worked up and she was naked from the waist down. "Ah ... well, the bottom and thighs certainly are fairly marked, but the back and calves are untouched. Turn over. Yes, I thought so. Why, there's lots of room."

Juliette returned at this moment, carrying the two cases. Muriel hastily tried to cover herself.

"Oh, modest, are you?" I laughed. "A little late, isn't it? Now Juliette, I have been telling Muriel what I think about her conduct to you, and she will have to pay for it. But you have been disobedient too and must be punished. You said you would love to be whipped by me. Well, your wishes shall be gratified. You had better undress, not altogether though, or you may shock Muriel's modesty. Stay a moment, I have an idea which will prevent any false shame on her part. Give me that webbing."

I took the webbing and tied Muriel's left ankle to her left wrist and her right ankle to her right wrist and then rolled her on her back.

She submitted as if in a stupor.

"There now, she can't see you, Juliette, and no matter how much she may gather you are exposed by the sound of my strokes, she must realise that she is far more indecently exposed herself. Besides, she will be in a most convenient position for punishment. Now go on undressing

yourself." Juliette looked a little frightened, but at the same time there was a look of expectancy in her eyes, which gloated over Muriel's nakedness. I took a birch and all the time Juliette was undressing, I was tickling Muriel's pussy, which was stretched open owing to her position, with the tips of the twigs.

When Juliette had taken everything but her chemise and drawers off, I stopped her. "That will do for the present. Turn the chemise up over your hips."

She obeyed. "Now bend down here," pointing to a spot at such a distance from the bed that her face would just reach Muriel's bottom and pussy as she lay spread-eagled on the side of the bed, "and put your hands on your knees. Now," said I, "I am first going to tan you as we did at school. Listen, Muriel, and think how you will like it when your turn comes. You can lie patiently there for the present."

I exchanged the birch for a cane, and swinging it back with a full sweep of my arm, I brought it down with full force across the half-open drawers. The force and surprise of the blow drew a cry from Juliette and impelled her forward, so that her face knocked against Muriel's bush. The latter uttered a cry of alarm.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I didn't know Juliette was so close. It startled me."

"Oh, she's quite close. She can see all you've got to show, can't you Juliette?" "Yes, sir."

"Well, tell us what you can see. Listen, Muriel."

"I can see Muriel's bottom and her belly and her ... her..." She stopped.

"Her what?" I insisted. "Her pussy?"

"Yes..."

"Well, tell her so."

"I don't like to."

"Oh, don't you. Does that make you want to?" and I gave her a vicious cut with the cane.

"Don't, oh, don't."

"Well, say it."

"Muriel, I can see your pussy..."

"Inside and out?" I asked.

"Yes, inside and out."

"There, Muriel, you hear that? What is the good of pretending to be so modest when you are showing your pussy, even the inside of it, to your maid and me. Why, we can see right inside you. We can see your clitoris there"-and I touched it with the tip of the cane-"we can nearly see your womb, I expect."

"Oh, untie me, and let me go. Whip me if you want to, but don't keep me tied up like this."

"Oh, you shall be whipped right enough, don't you worry. There's plenty of time. Still, if you're impatient we'll lay in now; move aside, Juliette. Now look out."

I lifted the cane, made it whistle in the air. I saw Muriel contract the muscles of her thighs and buttocks to meet the blow and, to tantalise her, brought the blow down about two inches from her body. She gave an involuntary cry. "What's the matter?"

"I thought the cane was coming. I heard it whiz in the air." "Oh, disappointed, are you? Well, things are always nicer when you get them when you don't expect them." A vicious cut of the cane pointed the "expect" and Muriel shrieked with surprise.

I turned to Juliette, who was still bending down.

"Now, to go on with you. How many have I given you?"

"Two."

"Two. Ah, that leaves two more. We were only allowed to give four at school."

Whack, whack came the cane, and with each blow Juliette's face was buried in Muriel's mossy curls.

"Now take your drawers off. We will see what the cane has done. Now, lie on your back beside Muriel in a similar position to her."

There were four clear red lines across the white cheeks, in spite of the protecting drawers.

I looked at the two distended bottoms conspicuously displayed on the edge of the bed. They looked so quaint that an idea struck me.

I went to the dressing-table and found a pair of hairbrushes.

Then I sat on the bed between the two girls and began to play, as it were, the side drums on their bottoms. I kept time to a mad silly sort of rhyme, something like this: Mu ri el, Mu riel, I will tan your bottom well. Ju liette, Ju liet te, I will see you don't forget, accentuating the alternate syllables with blows of the brushes, using alternately the backs and bristles of the brushes.

I varied the force of the blows also so that they never knew what the next blow was going to be like. I brushed the hair on their pussies, now softly so that they wiggled under the lascivious caress, now fiercely as if I was scrubbing a brick, which made them squirm with agony.

Getting tired of this I again addressed myself to Muriel.

"You asked me just now to untie you and whip you, didn't you? Well, I'm not so sure that I won't do as you ask. The position is a little tiring I expect."

"It's awful ... My legs and arms are gone to sleep. Oh, please untie me."

"Juliette, you may untie her, if you like. Now go and stand in that corner with your face to the wall and wait until I am ready. Don't dare to look round. Juliette, take off her nightdress and your own chemise and drawers. That's right, now go and stand beside her."

I took a birch from the case and the whip of knotted cords.

"Now," I said, "I am going to whip you both for disobedience. I ordered you, Muriel, not to attempt to retaliate on Juliette for your whipping of yesterday, and I told you, Juliette, that you were not to submit to her if she tried it on. So both of you deserve and will get this," and I brought the birch heavily across both bottoms one after the other. Juliette only flinched, but Muriel's bottom was so sore that she involuntarily placed her hands on her burning cheeks. "Take those hands away," I said, cutting them again and again. "If you don't I will tie you down ... Now, will either of you disobey me again?" Whish-whish came the birch across Juliette's thighs.

"Oh, no-no-never," she sobbed.

"Will you," to Muriel as I stepped across and laid the birch across her loins and calves, which were comparatively untouched. She sobbed

and shook her head. "Answer me." "No, oh, don't whip me so low down," as the birch caught her on the back of her knees.

"Oh, don't you worry, you shall have enough higher up in a minute or two. Now, Juliette, I'll finish you off. Come here, kneel down facing me."

I got her head between my thighs and laid into her with the birch right up and down both thighs and cheeks of her bottom. Occasionally I directed a blow right between the cheeks, so that the tips of the twigs curled right into her pussy. She screamed and writhed and plunged, imploring mercy.

"Do you hear that, Muriel," I said. "That's nothing to what you will get in a minute. Perhaps you are getting impatient, eh? Well, there's something to go on with."

I could just reach her with the birch and let her have one cut and then came back to Juliette, whom I had kept tightly pressed between my knees. My blows had caused all her bottom and thighs to flush a dark red, on which the weals from Muriel's riding whip and my own tanning stood out across in darker colours. "There's quite a pretty lattice work across your behind, Juliette dear. I didn't know I was such an expert at designing. Have you had enough? Do you think you will be disobedient again? Well, we will just make sure." And I delivered a regular hail of blows everywhere as quickly as I could, until I was out of breath. Juliette's cries increased. She wriggled and twisted this way and that, but the relentless rod found her every time. Blood began to show here and there where the skin had been broken and even began to trickle down her legs. The birch twigs flew all over the room and at last I had only the mere stump left in my hand. Then I relaxed the pressure of my thighs and she fell forward on the floor, twisting and groaning and her hands instinctively going to her lacerated bottom to protect it from further assaults.

All this time Muriel had been standing as I told her, with her face to the wall, a picture of apprehension. She knew she was within reach of my arm and so did not dare to move or look round.

I turned to her. "Now, Muriel, come here. It's your turn." She turned and came towards me with appealing looks. "Go down on your hands and knees," I ordered, "and pick up those broken twigs. We can't have the room in this state. The sooner you finish the job, the better for you." I threw away the birch and took up the knotted whip with the five lashes and to start her gave her a moderately hard blow on her flanks. She gasped and went down as I had told her, hastily picking up the bits of twigs here and there. It was a most fascinating sight in its shameless nakedness and humiliation. She crawled and grovelled allover the floor, trying to avoid my blows and at the same time to pick up the twigs as quickly as possible. I pursued her everywhere, taking care at first to avoid the parts still sore from yesterday's whipping. All across her back and flanks the lashes fell. Now they curled over her shoulder or cut into her armpits. The tender flesh below her ribs received many, the knotted ends reaching round to her stomach. Livid weals began to appear and at last she flung herself at my feet, her hands full of twigs, imploring my pardon and protesting that she would never disobey me again. She even begged Juliette to plead for her to me. I allowed myself to be persuaded, and told them to see to each other's comforts, but warned both of them that if ever I found them disobedient again there would be worse punishment in store for them.

I then prepared to leave them, for though the whippings had excited me, I had no desire, as I had the day before, for any actual sexual enjoyment.

"You are not going, Cecil, are you?" pleaded Muriel.

"Surely now you have punished both of us, you will be kind and give us what we want," and she came close to me and, like a suppliant, looked imploring into my eyes. Juliette also sent appealing glances at me.

I pretended to misunderstand her. "Haven't you been whipped enough?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, but I want-I want-"

"What?"

"Well, if I must say it, I want you in me," she blushed and stammered.

"No," I said sternly, "you don't deserve it and I'm not going to satisfy your lusts. Still, you can both, as a favour, kneel down and kiss the God Priapus, whom you worship, but nothing more."

I undid my trousers and let loose the object of their adoration and let them both approach one after the other. To humiliate Muriel, I told Juliette to come first, which she did on her knees. I did not allow her to stay too long, but made her give place to Muriel. She knelt eagerly before me and, embracing me round the hips, kissed and licked the rampant head. Human nature was too strong, and I deluged her face and neck with spurting jets of my strength. But I had no pleasure from this, as compared with the delight I had experienced while flogging their subjugated bodies.

CHAPTER 9

I SETTLE MY KINGDOM-JULIETTE'S STORY.

If I date my "conversion" from the previous day, I may quite well look on this afternoon as my "confirmation." Until then I had been a man just with ordinary desires. Now physical union with a woman became quite a secondary consideration with me. The fascination of domination held me, and though, of course, I had both Muriel and Juliette as my mistresses, that was more for their pleasure than my own. For myself I was their master, they were my slaves. I quickly settled my kingdom, and as a first proof of my position, I demanded and obtained a latch-key. With this I was able to make surprise visits, but I will say this for Muriel, she gave me no cause for jealousy. She was quite content, for the time at any rate, with me, and although she admitted that it was quite a surprise to her to find herself submitting to any man, still she loved me for mastering her-or so she said. With Juliette, however, she was quite different. She did not exactly bear malice, but she evidently meant to get her own back. She was, however, quite aware that I would not tolerate any sly vengeance; I had made that quite clear to her; but I could see that she meant, on the first opportunity, to pay Juliette out. Nor had she any intention of giving up the autocratic sway she had wielded for many years. She put this quite frankly to me one evening. "It's all very well for you, Cecil," she said, "you have mastered me-much to my surprise, I admit-still, you have mastered me, and I love you for it. But with Juliette, it's different. I've always had her as a subject; when we were at school together she fagged for me, and I used to whip her if I wasn't satisfied with her."

"At school together?" I repeated.

"Yes, didn't you know?"

"No, Juliette said she would tell me someday how your domination of her began-that was that afternoon you caught us in the morning-room and got caught yourself," I added maliciously. "But she said it was too long a story to tell then."

"Well, shall we have her in and tell you now?"

"If you like."

She rang the bell, and Juliette came in. "Juliette, Cecil says you promised to tell him how we got to know each other. Sit down and do so now." She was sitting on my knee with her arm round my neck.

Juliette hesitated. "Go on," said Muriel. "You haven't forgotten Clifton and South Parade? Let me see, it was Maude Jeffreys who began it, wasn't it?"

"Who was Maude Jeffreys?" I asked.

"She was a beast," said Juliette, and she stopped.

"Go on," I said.

"I was only a little child about eleven, and she was fifteen. I hated her and so did most of the girls. She was so strong, though, that they were afraid of her. All the bigger girls at school had little girl friends-mignons they used to call them-who used to fag for them and ... do other things."

"Oh," I said.

Juliette blushed. "Well, Maude couldn't get anyone to be her mignon till I came, and no one took me up-you were away that term, Muriel, with scarlet fever-and all the other girls had their mignons, so she seized on me. I knew nothing at all then about things. I had come straight from home. Maude told me to fag for her, and as I saw the other girls of my own age fagging for the other big girls, I took it as a matter of course. They all seemed to like it, and got sweets and petted in return. Sometimes, too, the bigger girls called their mignons to them after the lights were out and I used to hear kisses and soft words of endearment. I thought nothing of that, I only wished someone would

pet me ... but not Maude, I never wanted her to pet me, she was such a beast ... she didn't wash, ugh!

"One day, after I had been at school a week, one of the bigger girls had cause to complain about her mignon. Something or other had not been done to her liking, and when we went up to bed, I was surprised to be told not to undress at once. The other little girls evidently knew what was coming. The culprit was brought into my room-I slept in the biggest dormitory, with most of the little girls-and after a lecture from her senior, she was told to 'go down.' She was quite undressed and bent across a bed. Then her senior took a little cane out of her box and gave her about a dozen smart cuts on her little behind. The child sobbed and got up and went back to her own room. I was stupefied, but the rest of the girls seemed to like it and to take it as a matter of course. I was told I could now undress, and did so, feeling very nervous and uncomfortable. When I was in bed and the lights were out, I heard Maude calling me. I went over to her bed.

'Get into bed with me,' she said, 'I want to talk to you.' I did so very shyly. 'You saw Elsie get whipped?' 'Yes.' 'Well, that's what happens to naughty girls here, so be careful. If little girls don't do as they are told, their seniors whip them. How would you like me to whip you?' 'Oh, Maude, please.' 'Well, mind you don't deserve it.'

"I didn't like the turn the conversation was taking and moved to get out of bed, but Maude put her arm round me. "'No, you are not to go yet. You've never been in bed with any of the other girls, have you?' 'No.' 'Ah, well kiss me, kiddy.' I didn't much want to, but I did as she said. I was surprised to find not only her lips but her tongue meet my lips. I drew back, but couldn't get away. Her hand moved down and began to pull up my night-dress. I could feel my cheeks burning with hot blushes. 'You've got quite a nice little bottom for your age; it will be rather nice to smack.' 'Oh, Maude, don't ... it's rude.' She laughed. 'Give me your hand.' She took it, and before I knew what she was doing, placed it between her legs. 'Don't take it away, but do as I do.' She pulled my night-dress right up and roughly put her hand between my

legs to ... oh, how ashamed and frightened I was. 'Oh, don't, please Maude, don't,' I said, and tried to take her hand away. 'Silly little fool, do as I tell you.' But I was too upset and burst out crying. 'Shut up, you idiot, or you'll be sorry. You shall pay for this to-morrow. Go back to your own bed.' I crept miserably back and sobbed myself to sleep. "The next evening Maude told me not to get into bed until she told me. She then called the other seniors together and explained the case, while I stood in my night-dress. She was not popular, but the rule at South Parade was strict. A senior had an unquestioned right to punish her mignon, and though they didn't like her, the other seniors, for their own sakes, would not encourage insubordination in a mignon. Besides, as I learnt afterwards, they all used their mignons as Maude had tried to use me, and would not listen to any frightened protests on my part. So I had to bend over the bed, as I had seen the other little girl the night before. Maude borrowed a cane and, lifting my night-dress, gave me ten hard cuts on my poor little behind. Oh, the pain and shame of that first whipping. I shall never forget it. I sobbed and twisted and kicked, but Maude held me down with one hand quite easily. All the time she was whipping me she was jeering at me. 'Isn't it rude, eh, Miss Modesty? Fancy showing your nakedness to the whole dormitory.'

"When she had finished she said: 'Now go to bed and come to me when the lights are out.' I crept into bed, and, soon after, the lights were out. I didn't move, but soon heard Maude calling me. As I didn't answer, she came across to my bed and roughly pulled down the clothes. She turned me over on my face and pulled up my night-dress and began whipping me again. I screamed but she kept my head pressed down into the pillow, which muffled the cries. She must have given me quite twenty or thirty before she stopped. 'Now, will you come to my bed?' I was too hurt and frightened to resist any more and followed her miserably, and did all she told me to do.

"Oh, how I hated doing it, and hated her for making me. I was too young to get any pleasure myself and, as I said, she didn't wash."

I laughed-I couldn't help it, and so did Muriel.

"It's all very well to laugh, but it was beastly."

"I expect so," I said. "But go on."

"Well, things went on like this. Maude was always getting into rows with her head-mistress, Mrs. Walter, and after getting punished herself used to get her own back on me. At last one day she was caught cheating in form and the whole school-there were about twenty of us-were summoned to the big schoolroom. I knew Mrs. Walter used to whip the girls, though up till then I had escaped, and the whippings were in private. This time, however, Mrs. Walter came in to us and read us all a lecture on dishonesty and then called Maude out before all of us, and, after lecturing her, sent her away with the French mistress to get ready for punishment. She then told us to go into the punishment room. I had never been in this room, known as the Vale of Tears among the girls, before. It was a large empty room right at the top of the house. The only furniture it contained was a cupboard, a long narrow table with broad straps on each side hanging down, a sort of vaulting horse, and a moveable scaling ladder fixed to one of the walls. There were forms round the side of the room, on which we girls sat and waited. After a minute or two, Mrs. Walter came in with the other mistresses. She rang a bell and the door at the other end of the room opened and in came mademoiselle leading Maude. The latter was a curious figure. She was naturally fat and lumpy, and her present costume did not improve her appearance. She wore a flannel dressing-gown, hind part in front, her face was blotched with fright, and she could barely walk. She looked such a ridiculous figure that in my astonishment and nervousness I giggled.

"'Who laughed,' said Mrs. Walter at once. I stood up trembling.

"'Did you laugh?' 'Yes, madam,' I stammered, 'I didn't mean to ... but Maude looks so funny.' 'Hm, she won't look funny soon. Let me see, you're a new girl.' 'Yes, madam.' 'Oh, and you have not been present at a punishment before? Well, let it be a lesson to you. Come here, Miss Jeffreys.'

"Maude approached and stood trembling. 'You were detected trying to copy your French exercises from the girl next to you.' 'Yes, madam.' 'Very good, you know what to expect?'

"She signed to the French and Second mistresses, who took hold of Maude and led her to the table and laid her face downwards on it, so that her legs hung over at one end, buckling the straps which hung on each side tight across her back, one just below her shoulders, one across her waist, and one just across her hips. Mrs. Walter had gone to the cupboard and taken out a long cane. She came back to her victim and undid the dressing-gown. I realised now why it was backside front. As the buttons were undone, so it fell apart on either side, showing that Maude only had on a chemise. This was raised as high as possible and Maude's fat coarse behind fully exposed to view. Madam raised the cane to the full sweep of her arm and the first cut fell. I have never heard such a yell as came from Maude's lips. A second cut fell just in the same place, followed by another shriek. The elder girls smiled. Maude was notoriously a coward. But Mrs. Walter went on methodically with the whipping, taking no heed of the cries. Only when Maude began to kick, she said, 'Keep still, or you shall be tied.' But Maude's legs continued to fly about, making a most indecent exposure. At last when she had given ten cuts, each of which had left its mark, Mrs. Walter drew back and signed to the two mistresses and pointed to the horse. They wheeled that into the middle of the room, undid Maude, and led her to it. They bent her over it, and while one of them fastened her wrists to the two legs on one side, the other stretched her legs apart and tied her ankles to the other two legs. All that we girls could see was Maude's bottom wealed by the cane and her legs and what was usually hidden between. Mrs. Walter now put back the cane and armed herself with a long birch. If the cane had made Maude yell with pain, the birch made her scream. But Mrs. Walter took no notice. Down came the birch on the fat cheeks, until they were all crimson and purple. Quicker and quicker fell the blows, until at last most of the twigs had broken off and only a stump was left in her hands. Then she stopped and the mistresses undid Maude, who could scarcely stand, so shaken and weak with sobbing was she.

"'Will you cheat again?' 'No, madam,' she stammered, kneeling down. 'Very good, take her away.'

"That was the first whipping I saw at South Parade. We were dismissed and I noticed that most of the seniors retired to their studies with their mignons. I was congratulating myself that I should be free from Maude for some time; the whipping would, I thought, keep her mind busy. But I was disappointed.

"'Maude wants you, Juliette, in the dormitory,' said a small girl. I didn't dare not to go. I found Maude in bed sobbing. 'Oh there you are, you little beast, are you? So you laughed at me, did you? Well, I'll pay you out for that, my girl, when I'm fit again. Now I want you to put some cream on my legs; you'll find some on my dressing table.'

"I found some cold cream. Maude turned over on her face.

'Pull the clothes down, and put it on, and mind you be gentle.'

I didn't relish the task of anointing her behind, you may be sure, but the sight of her behind and battered flesh pleased me much. She lay and moaned the whole time, muttering abuse of Mrs. Walter, until I had finished. That night she left me alone, she was too stiff and sore, though she had to show her behind to the whole dormitory (that was a custom of South Parade, and not even the biggest girls escaped doing it after a whipping). But the next night ... I had to pay for laughing at her and she made me do everything to her, ugh."

"Everything?"

"Yes, not only fingers ... I had to ... pah."

"Poor little girl, but it didn't last, did it?" said Muriel.

"No, thank goodness, you came back and won me from her."

"Won you?"

"Yes, that was a custom at South Parade. No senior could take a mignon from another senior unless she won her. Sometimes seniors exchanged mignons by agreement, but usually if a senior fancied a mignon she had to fight for her and win her. Oh, it was quite a formal affair. The Bedroom was cleared, a ring was formed, the mignon was perched naked on a chest of drawers, and the two combatants, also naked, fought with knotted towels which they flicked at each other. No wrestling or holding was allowed. I shall never forget that fight for me. There was that fat ugly Maude with her coarse skin and dark thick hair, while you, darling, looked so frail beside her. Oh, I did hope you would win."

"Well, what happened?"

"Oh, I won," laughed Muriel. "I'd had experience at home with my brother George. He'd learnt the game at school and used to practice on me in the holidays."

"Oh, did he?"

"With our night-gowns on, of course, you naughty boy. Well, I'd learnt the trick of wetting the end of the towel and I could aim much better than Maude. I was quicker on my feet too, and she was such an awful coward. She nearly gave in after I had touched her once or twice on the thighs, and at last when I got in a special cut of my brother's, right between her legs, she howled out: 'Oh, take the little beast, I don't want her,' and went to bed."

"Yes, and you have had me ever since, haven't you?" said Juliette, flinging her arms round Muriel. "I loved you then and I love you still, in spite of your cruelty to me sometimes."

"But how? ... Why?..." "You mean, how does Juliette come to be here?"

"Ye-es, and..."

"And what?"

"Well, she was at school with you ... but..."

"Oh, you mean you thought she was my maid. Oh, that's your mistake. She told me when you called that she was sure from your manner that you took her for the maid, and we agreed to keep it up as long as we could. No, she's my companion really. Tell him how it came about, Juliette."

CHAPTER 10

JULIETTE'S STORY

(CONTINUED)

"Well," said Juliette, "my father died suddenly and we were left awfully poor."

"You must begin long before that," said Muriel. "It began with my leaving South Parade. You see, Maude never forgave me for winning Juliette from her and tried all she could to pay us out. There was no other little girl left without a senior, and no senior would share her mignon with her, as was sometimes done. She didn't tell about the games at night in the dormitory, for that would have brought down on her head the vengeance of all the seniors, for we were all tarred with the same brush, and she was an awful coward. But she hated us both; Juliette because she could never get her to make love to her gladly, and me because she saw Juliette was quite eager to do anything to, or for, me. So things went on for about a year, until one hot summer's day in the garden I couldn't wait till night, and Juliette and I were having quite a nice little 'Flirtation' on the grass, which was rather long. Maude must have spotted us and told Mrs. Walter , for we were suddenly startled in each other's arms by her voice: 'What conduct is this?'

There she stood looking down on us. 'Get up at once, Juliette, do up your drawers; go and wash your hands and then come to my room.' When we got there, she stormed at us, and talked about expelling us publicly. But I wasn't afraid of that."

"Two hundred pounds a year each," sniggered Juliette.

"Precisely. So she jawed a lot and at last said that in consideration for our parents, and the disgrace, etc., she would let us off with a flogging, but we must never do it again, would we promise? Oh, yes, of course, we would-and we never did-in the garden. She asked us if the other girls did the same sort of thing, and, of course, we said no, and then she asked me how I knew of such things. I said a servant at home. 'I

expected as much,' she answered. Looking back now, I, of course, realise she was one of us herself, for she gloated over the details and her eyes glowed as she talked. Anyhow, we got our whipping-a private one, because she did not want to publish our disgrace and get the matter talked about, for fear of putting ideas into the girls' heads."

"Was the whipping severe?"

"Pretty well, I'd had plenty in my time; she loved whipping me, she told me later, after I left school."

"She spanked you, didn't she?"

"Yes, she always spanked us little girls. She used to put us across her knees, turn our clothes up, let down our drawers, and use her hand or the back of a hairbrush. My word, it hurt, too, I couldn't sit down for over a week with any comfort."

"But we paid Maude out, didn't we?"

"How was that?"

"Oh, that evening we held a court martial in the dormitory. We bribed the maid not to turn out the gas for half an hour, and we tried Miss Maude. Naturally all the seniors were eager to punish the sneak, and she was condemned to run the gauntlet and to be whipped by her two victims. It was fun. Picture this kid of twelve," pointing to Juliette, "laying into the fat behind of a girl of eighteen. 'I can't hit hard enough,' she nearly sobbed in her excitement, 'I can't hurt her enough.' I think, however, she managed pretty well, for Maude wriggled as we held her down. Then I had my turn; and at last she had to run naked three times up and down the dormitory between two lines of girls armed with canes. She was marked all over from her shoulders to her knees, both back and front, for she fell down more than once, and the blows never stopped. She didn't dare tell, however, and left at the end of the term, and so did I."

"Before the next term began, Juliette's father died, as she told you, and when I heard of it, I got my mother to have her to stay with us, and be taught by my sister's governess. When mother died, and I was married, I still kept her with me as my sweetheart and companion-my old fool of a husband suspected nothing-and here we still are."

"And she still lets you..."

"Whip her? Yes, habit is strong, and she never became a senior with a mignon of her own."

"I rather like that duel idea," I said. "I'd like to see one."

"I daresay you would, but there's no mignon to fight for ... unless..." and she looked at me.

"Unless what?"

"Unless you play the part of the mignon, yes, that would do. You be the mignon and Juliette and I will fight for you.

Come on, Juliette, undress him and perch him up ... We'll put him on the piano."

They seized hold of me laughing and I let them strip me and stood on the baby grand piano, while they quickly took off their own clothes and got a couple of towels from the bedroom. The account of their school experiences had quite excited me, and I should have made quite a good scarecrow in a Roman garden.

There was certainly no inutile liguum about me, what there was was utilissimus in the highest degree.

They pushed the furniture back so that there was a clear space. "Ready?" said Muriel. "En garde." They held the towels in their right hands, crouching slightly forward. "No hitting above the belt," said

Juliette. Muriel answered with a flick which just missed Juliette's right thigh. Quick as lightning Juliette flicked her towel upwards and just caught the brown curls.

"Little cat, that's the worst of teaching other people tricks." She dodged and feinted and at last, seizing a favourable opportunity, made her towel curl round Juliette's left cheek with a resounding smack.

"Oo," said Juliette and she clapped her hands to the place.

"First blood to me," cried Muriel. Juliette said nothing but kept a wary eye on Muriel, lightly swinging the towel to and fro. Muriel feinted here and there and at last made a vicious cut at Juliette, but missed and overreached herself. That was what Juliette was waiting for. As Muriel stretched forward, she brought her towel twice in rapid succession straight up between her legs. Muriel sprang back out of reach and rubbed

herself. Then, springing forward, she rained a perfect hail of blows on Juliette, caring nothing for the other's attacks. She parried with her left arm and flicked here, there, and everywhere. Her quickness of wrist and eye surprised me. At last two cuts, one after the other, curled quite round between Juliette's cheeks, and as the latter retired, she followed them up with a couple of backhanders, both of which reached between Juliette's legs in front.

"Enough, enough, I give in," cried Juliette, who was quite out of breath.

"Come on, Cecil, you're mine."

I jumped down.

"Get the cases, Juliette."

"What," I said. "Do you think you're going to whip me?"

"Mignons always are whipped ... Do let me, just this once ... you can whip me afterwards if you like ... Besides, this is only a love whipping."

"No," I said. "I tell you what. We'll have a triangular duel. I'll take the two of you on, and whoever gets the first cut home shall give his opponent five cuts. Towels or birches, you can choose your own weapons."

"Towels for me," said Muriel, "they're longer."

"Birch for me," I said. "Now, come on." I waited for their attack, and, as I expected, I easily dodged Juliette and parried Muriel's flick with my birch and, before she could recover, flicked her with the twigs between the legs.

"One, get down on the couch, Muriel."

She obeyed. "Not too hard, dear." I gave her five moderate cuts and she got up.

"Round 2," I said. This time Muriel was not so eager; she kept a wary eye on my birch, so that I could not get her towel entangled in it. Juliette kept me busy flicking here and there. At last I thought I saw an opening and cut at her; I missed and quickly both towels came round me, one on each side. Muriel shouted for joy.

"Come on, Juliette, it's our turn now." I could not in honour refuse or resist, but with as good a grace as I could, lay down on the couch and took my five strokes from each of them. Neither of them tried really to hurt me, but made the birch curl wickedly between the cheeks and thighs.

"Round 3, now look out Juliette." She was evidently enjoying it and laughed. Cut and parry followed each other for a minute or two. I dodged this way and that and at last, more by accident, I fancy, than anything else, managed to flick Juliette's thigh. It was only just a graze,

but it counted. She received her five strokes and wriggled with pleasure and pain.

We were all of us out of breath with laughing and the exertion. I threw myself into the chair. Muriel collapsed on the couch beside Juliette. The latter put her arms round her and hugged her. They certainly made a lovely picture with their bodies closely entwined. I sat and watched them, but the sight of their naked bottoms proved too much for me, and when I saw Juliette's right hand steal down between Muriel's legs, I got up softly and took the webbing from the case. Muriel's eyes were shut and Juliette lay half on top of her kissing her, her fingers very busy. I reached over them and before they knew what I was doing I had slipped the webbing underneath Muriel and tied them tight together. "You naughty children," I said in a gruff voice. "I'll teach you. You're not at South Parade now." And down came the birch on Juliette's plump little cheeks. She kicked and squirmed and, turning away to avoid the blows, brought Muriel's bottom into sight as she turned with her. I was not slow to take advantage of this new field of action.

"Mind my knuckles, though," said Juliette as one cut reached between Muriel's legs.

"They shouldn't be there." Muriel was now on top, and getting most of the blows. She had also got her hands round Juliette and was busily untying the knot.

She succeeded at last and, jumping up, saw to the case. "Come on, Juliette, we'll pay him out for that trick." They both seized birches and made for me. I had my work cut out to avoid them, and we all chased each other round the room slashing and cutting at each other with all our might. Very few of the blows proved effective, and at last, worn out with laughing and the chase, we all fell on the couch helpless. Then a less fierce but not less tiring orgy ensued, ending as usual in the bath. This, by the bye, was built on the Roman plan of white marble with steps leading down into about four feet of water. It was a hobby of

Muriel's husband, and was quite big enough for three or four people at the same time. It was more like the "plunge" at a Turkish bath than the ordinary bath of to-day. The only drawback to it was that it took rather a long time to fill, and the water was never really hot. Still, as Muriel used to say, it was usually hot enough outside in her boudoir and it was good to have something to cool one.

CHAPTER 11

JULIETTE'S STORY

(CONCLUDED)

"So, Juliette has been with you ever since she left school," I said to Muriel after we had bathed and Juliette had gone to get tea.

"Yes, she came home to me, as I told you, to work with my young sister, and when I got married to Anthony, I had her with me as my companion and sweetheart, though Anthony never suspected that, and if he had, I shouldn't have cared."

"But she's not a virgin, and she never married, did she?" "Ah! Now that's rather a tragedy, though it has its funny moments. Would you like to hear about it?" "Rather!"

"Well, we have long gaps in our family. I've one brother twelve years older than myself and one sister six years younger, and that's all. George was married when I left school and Elsie was quite a child, younger than Juliette. But I had a cousin Harry, just about Juliette's age, two years older, to be exact. He stayed with us one holiday when he was about seventeen. I was, of course, grown up and had 'come out.' Anthony was beginning to hang round, but he hadn't definitely proposed to me. Juliette and I were sweethearts, then as now, and though we did not share bedrooms, our rooms were next to each other, and you can imagine we spent most of the time in each other's arms. Harry evidently suspected our goings-on, as you will see, and he was as hot as you make 'em himself. But he was very clever. I never had the slightest suspicion, till the discovery. We used to be quite free and easy together. I used to tease him terribly, and delighted in seeing him grow uncomfortable and change his legs and move about on his seat. He told me afterwards that he didn't dare try any games on with me, although he wanted to badly. I was too grown up for him to tackle. But one night he saw Juliette going to my bedroom after we had all gone to bed, and he listened at the door. Our rooms were quite away from Mother's, and, as we never thought about Harry suspecting, we made no attempt to moderate our voices, and our exclamations of pleasure. He stood and

listened at the door and heard everything, and I can assure you there was a good deal to hear. Luckily there was no whipping that night, or the sequel might have been different, but you can imagine he heard enough to leave no doubt as to what we were doing. Anyhow, the situation was too much for him, and, as he told me, he played a lone hand by himself on the mat outside and then, growing nervous lest he should be discovered, retreated to bed, where his sleep was not as undisturbed as it might have been.

"Looking back after the denouement, I remember that he looked most intently and meaningly at us the next day, but at the time I paid no attention to it. We played our usual game of hide-and-seek in the twilight in the garden, with the usual kisses for forfeits when caught. He certainly kissed me with more meaning than usual, but nothing more. With Juliette, however, he was much bolder, for she told me that his hand became very venturesome and once even tried, when he caught her, to investigate her most secret charms. Of course, at that time she was wearing shut-up drawers, so he couldn't get much satisfaction. She was very excited when she told me, and by no means as angry with him as I thought she ought to have been. I grew quite angry and jealous and threatened her with a whipping if she let it happen again. She promised she would not, but I determined to watch. "That night I was prevented from my usual delights with Juliette by the ordinary periodical disability we poor women are cursed with, so Juliette knew it was no good coming to me. I was so angry and jealous, though, about her letting Harry take liberties with her, that I couldn't sleep, and I decided that I would give Juliette a whipping-not severe-but enough to relieve my feelings and to warn her as regards the future. So I got out of bed, took a birch from my trunk, where I always kept one safely locked up, and went to Juliette's room.

"When I got to the door I was thunderstruck at hearing voices. 'Oh, don't, Harry, you're hurting me ... no, don't ... you can't get in, it's too big ... use your fingers ... no ... no ... no, I can't bear it ... you're tearing me in two ... oh ... oh.' I burst into the room and switched on the light. What a sight met my eyes. I could see nothing of Juliette, except her legs, which

were wide apart, with the knees in the air, and between them Harry's back and bare legs, with the pyjamas round his ankles, moving vigorously up and down. Before he had time to stop I rushed to the end and brought the birch as heavily as I could down on the heaving buttocks. 'You cad,' I cried, 'get off, how dare you violate that child?' He sprang off and away and I saw at a glance I was too late. Juliette's legs and mount were all red with blood, the damage had evidently been done. But I was just in time to prevent still worse mischief, for as he stood shamefacedly before me, great jets of his manhood spurted from his arrogant weapon. This was, of course, the first time I had seen a man in this condition, and I was naturally very excited. In fact I felt the bandage I was wearing was soaking with a different fluid from that for which I was wearing it. But I was too mad with anger and jealousy to pay much attention to that at the moment. I went to the door and shut and locked it and then turned to Harry, who was stooping to gather up his pyjamas. Juliette was still lying on her back, but she had turned her head away, covering her face with her hands and sobbing. "'Now, what have you to say for yourself?' He remained mute. 'I shall tell Mother of this the first thing in the morning, but that won't do much good. Juliette's ruined, you've taken her virginity, if you haven't seriously injured her. What reparation can you make? It's absurd to talk about marriage, you are both far too young. You beast, you cad,' I raved at him, 'how dare you corrupt an innocent girl?' 'Not so much of the innocent,' he broke in. 'I'm sorry I took her maidenhead. I never thought she would have one.' 'What do you mean?' 'Well, I listened at your door last night, and heard what was going on there between you and Juliette, so you see it's no good coming the innocent over me. And what's more, Miss Muriel, if you tell Auntie about me, I'll split on you two.' "'I don't know what you mean,' I said, 'but anyhow, she wouldn't believe you. We should both deny it, and that wouldn't do you any good. You would be sent home and if I know anything of Uncle Harry, you'll have the finest thrashing you've ever had in your life. Now I'll tell you what I'll do. I don't want any scandal. If you'll submit to be punished by me and promise faithfully not to do that to Juliette again-why, you might have given her a baby if I hadn't come in-and to marry her, if she will have you later, when you are in a position to marry-well,

I'll say nothing to Mother. If you refuse, I go to Mother at once.' 'You punish me? How?' 'With this, and a cane I've got. I mayn't be as strong as Uncle Harry, but I'll do my best.' 'I'm not afraid of you,' he laughed, 'you can do what you like to me, and as for Juliette, I'll promise both those things.' 'Very good,' I answered, 'come here.'

"I led him over to some hooks which were on the wall and made him catch hold of two of them. I found Juliette's stockings and tied each wrist as tightly as I could to a hook. His pyjama trousers were still round his ankles, and the short jacket, strained up by the position of his arms, left his bottom well exposed. 'Now,' I said, 'we'll see whether I can do any good,' and I rained a volley of blows with the birch all over both cheeks. He stood the punishment stoically, and I grew vicious. I became more deliberate, choosing my spot for the cuts carefully, and at last, one or two proved more efficacious, for he wriggled a bit and said, 'Here, that'll do, Muriel.'

"I laughed, 'Do? I've not begun yet.' I noticed that the birch was getting worn-out and, looking about me, saw Juliette's riding whip lying on the chest of drawers. It was a dainty little thing, quite light, but made of whalebone, bound with silk. I put down the birch and picked up the whip. The first cut right across both cheeks was evidently a surprise. He gave an involuntary cry of pain. 'Here, what's that you're using?'

"He turned round to look as another cut fell just where the first had fallen. 'Here, I say, that's enough.' 'Enough? Not half; I'll teach you to rape virgins. If I can't repair the injury, I'll make you suffer; your blood shall help to wipe out Juliette's. There, there, there, and there. Don't you wish you had chosen Uncle Harry?' He made no attempt now to conceal his pain. 'You'll cut me to pieces, you cat. Oh, oh, oh God,' as a very vicious cut curled by chance between his plunging, kicking legs and flicked the hanging bag. His cries of pain spurred my energy. I redoubled my blows and his cries of pain and rage changed to sobs and appeals. 'Muriel, please no more; you'll cut me to bits; let me off now; I swear I'll marry Juliette. I'll never touch her again, Muriel, darling, for God's sake; oh, my God, have pity. Mercy, mercy, mercy.' "Juliette had

somewhat recovered, and was sitting up watching the scene, frightened but excited. She had never seen such a whipping before. She joined her entreaties to his. 'Oh, Muriel, don't hurt him too much. Look, his bottom's bleeding.' She came to me and tried to stop me. I cut her across the bottom. 'Don't you interfere, your turn will come next. I'll teach you to have a lover.' She ran back to the bed, and I turned again to Harry. Certainly I had been severe. I must have given him over fifty cuts and his poor bottom and thighs were a mass of weals. Here and there the skin was cut, and there were little trickles of blood oozing down the skin. I felt just a little frightened, so I put aside the whip and took up the birch again. It had quite a different effect to what I expected. It must have hurt, but after the first few blows, Harry's cries changed in tone. Deep ahs and ohs followed each cut, but he no longer kicked and squirmed, he moved his loins backwards and forwards, just as I had seen him on the bed. I was interested and looked to see what he was doing. To my surprise, his weapon was rampant again and by his plunging he seemed to be trying to swing it up and down; his eyes were half-closed. In my curiosity I reached out my left hand to touch it. I just put my hand round it. 'Oh, you darling,' he murmured and plunged vigorously. Again the thick jets of life burst from him and he collapsed against the wall, hanging by his wrists.

"I was startled and not a little frightened, so I untied his wrists. He fell on me with his arms round my neck, sobbing and calling me his queen. He slid down on his knees and, bending down, kissed my feet, uttering all the time words of love and homage.

"This attitude completely conquered my anger. I raised him up. 'That will do,' I said, 'we won't think any more about it. You can go to bed. Now, Juliette, for you.' "'You're not going to whip Juliette?' 'Certainly I am.' 'No, you mustn't. It was all my fault. If you think she deserves punishment, punish me again for her. I'll bear hers as well as my own, if I can.' He knelt down again and, flinging his arms round my legs, kissed my feet passionately.

"For the first time in my life I realised the ineffable joy of the woman dominant. I delighted in the subjection of Juliette, but she was only a girl and my mignon. But here was a man, or at any rate a boy, absolutely subservient to me. I looked down on him as he grovelled before me, gloating over him, and exulting in my power. 'Very well, then, Juliette shall escape for the present. You shall bear her punishment, and her humiliation. Take those pyjamas off.' He did so. 'Now kneel down before me there, and beg my pardon and ask me to whip you.' He knelt down humbly. 'Forgive me, Muriel,' he sobbed. 'Go on ... ask for your punishment ... ask for it.' 'Please whip me,' he stammered. 'Where?' I insisted. He looked up at me. 'Wherever you like.' 'Oh, shall I flog your manhood?' His hand instinctively clasped his sex, protecting the tender parts. 'Oh, no, not there.' 'Where then? On your bottom?' 'Yes, on my bottom. See, there it is ready for you.' And he bent forward pushing his bottom out, waiting for the strokes. 'Kiss my feet, then, and keep still.'

"I brought the remnants of the birch straight up and down between his cheeks six times, and at each blow he clasped my legs and kissed my feet ardently. His hands clutched convulsively round my calves, and when I stopped and raised him slightly, he did not let go but slid higher, pulling my night-dress up, until when he stood on his feet he had pulled it right up and held my naked body close to him. Our lips met in a long and passionate kiss. He was still sobbing from the pain; inarticulate words of adoration came from him and his touch was reverent though caressing.

"'Don't touch me there,' I said suddenly, as his hand fell from my waist to where the bandage was fixed between my legs. 'Why not, my queen of women? I worship every bit of you.' 'No, you mustn't, you ought not to have seen me like this.' But it was no good, I could not stop him. His eager hand dived beneath the bandage and penetrated right into my most secret parts. He had not long to wait. The excitement of flogging him and his adoration had set my whole body on fire, and within a minute I drenched him with my life and love. I leant forward and kissed him frankly and lovingly.

"'You are forgiven, Harry, only remember your promises.' 'I will remember,' he said, as he kissed me again. He then turned to Juliette. 'Good night, Juliette darling, forgive me for my unkindness to you, but you shall be my wife as soon as I can marry you.' They kissed lovingly and he turned to go. "'Don't forget those,' I said, pointing to his pyjamas. 'If they are found here in the morning, people will ask questions.' He smiled, picked them up, and put them on.

"He winched a little as the flannel touched his wounded skin, smiled a little ruefully, kissed us both again, and went away to bed.

"That is how Juliette lost her virginity, Cecil."

"But what about Harry? What became of him? He has not married Juliette."

"No, he was drowned while bathing, poor boy, about a year after. How we've missed him. He was a natural Masochist. I have never met anyone like him. My husband liked to be ruled, but that was because he was an old man and other pleasures had palled on him, but Harry loved my power over him. I hoped when I met you that you might have taken his place." She gave a little sigh.

"But the boot is on the other leg," I laughed.

"Yes," she sighed, "I never thought I could submit to the domination of any man, but you have conquered me, Cecil. I am yours utterly, my darling, my king."

"That's as it should be."

"I don't know. It's all right for the present, but the future I'm not a Masochist, all my nature tends the other way, and I feel I shall want someone to subdue. Of course, there's Juliette, she's mine utterly, in spite of her revenge the other day. But I want a man-a man-"

"We must see if we can't find you one," I laughed, "provided always, of course, he doesn't interfere with my prerogative and privileges." "I shall always be yours, darling, no matter who there is."

THE END