Helen- A Modern Odalisque

HELEN A Modern Odalisque Larry Stern This book is a work of fiction. In real life, always practise safe sex. First published in Great Britain in 1993 by Nexus 332 Ladbroke Grove London W10 5 AH Reprinted 1994 Copyright Larry Stern 1993 The moral right of the author has been asserted This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. ISBN 0 352 32850 9

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Typeset by TW Typesetting, Plymouth, Devon Printed and bound in Great Britain by Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berks

1: JOHN MARSH'S PROBLEM In general I count myself a very fortunate man. I command a sufficient private income, thanks to the industry and foresight of my forebears and to my own astute investments, to allow me to choose how I spend my time. I am thus able to avoid the mundane pursuits associated with earning my daily bread and can devote myself to following certain more appealing interests. I might be considered, because of these interests, to be a male chauvinist or, even worse, someone who dislikes women. This is not the case at all. I adore the darling creatures and count several as close, even intimate, friends. It is simply my contention that modern society has forced many women to adopt a role with which they are both uncomfortable and unhappy. It is my experience that certain women - note I do not say all, but certain women - are more contented, more alive, when subservient to a dominant male than when engaged in some equality struggle. Since, then, my own natural inclination leads me to derive pleasure from the domination of a submissive woman, I am always ready to assist any woman who may be inclined towards submissiveness to realise her true feelings. Where, after all, is the harm, since both parties derive so much pleasure from the process? It may well be that many find it unbelievable that a woman could derive pleasure from correction and humiliation at the hands of a lover. But 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio,' as Shakespeare's Dane has it. The human psyche is a complex mechanism, which in my own direct experience allows of many strange things. Indeed many of the women whom I have helped to a subtle self-knowledge of their own hidden submissive urges would at first have believed themselves incapable of deriving pleasure from the taxing and embarrassing experiences to which they now gladly, even joyfully, submit. I pride myself on having developed no small expertise in helping such creatures better to know themselves and their inner desires. So I am always on the lookout for situations which might enable me pleasurably to exercise the small talents I have developed in this direction. And that is where my story begins. I maintain a bachelor establishment in Kensington. Just a few rooms in a pleasant block of flats; porter and cleaning included in the management fees. There is also a swimming pool, gymnasium and garaging in the same building. I prefer to live alone, without servants and other impedimenta. I am thus free to embark on whatever project takes my fancy without having to make tedious arrangements for the care or welfare of numerous dependants. If necessary I can, and do, travel on the instant to seize upon an opportunity that fate might place in my way. I also keep a house on St Lucia in the West Indies, so that I can escape the rigours of the English winter. I had just returned from one such little escape to this sunny haven, and was feeling very fit and relaxed when chance laid exactly such an opportunity at my feet. When in London I usually visit my club at least once a week to dine. They keep a good table, the cellar affords an acceptable claret and the talk is usually stimulating. It was there one evening, after a most pleasant meal, that Charles Dalton, with whom incidentally I had shared a number of similar adventures, approached me and introduced me to John Marsh, a business acquaintance of his who was up from the country for a couple of days. Dalton intimated that his colleague had a serious problem on his hands - just the sort of problem that I would be most admirably suited to assist in resolving. This he emphasised with a knowing nod of the head. I drew my new acquaintance into the Members' Lounge and when we were both

provided with a large brandy and soda, urged him to lay all before me. The place was deserted except for a couple of the club servants and so we were able to talk freely. We relaxed into a pair of deep leather armchairs placed side by side. John Marsh, who was a man in his fifties, grey, with distinguished hawk-like features, began his tale in a confidential undertone: "As Dalton has told you, I am in business in the country and have made a very fair living from my dealings. I am well set up with a house and grounds near the south coast. "A few years ago I met and married my wife Helen. She is now twenty-five, so you see there is some difference in our respective ages and inevitably in our outlook on life. My business still takes me away from home a good deal and even when I am not travelling I carry a heavy load. Mainly I must say through force of habit; but you know about old dogs and new tricks! "Well, inevitably a young woman of Helen's mettle was going to get bored and suffer from such inattention. I supplied her with plenty of cash, provided a car, horses, all that sort of thing, but I suppose it was unavoidable and perhaps even understandable that she should start to look outside our marriage for satisfaction. "One day, I had been away and came home a day early. The house was very quiet, no servants about and so on. I was climbing the stairs to our bedroom when in the quiet of the house I heard the unmistakable sounds of people making love. Very quietly I climbed to the landing, approached our bedroom door which stood ajar and, making no noise, peeped in. "My astonished eyes were confronted with a tangle of limbs which as I focused, resolved into the naked figures of a man and a woman locked in a passionate embrace on the rumpled bed. The woman's legs were tightly entwined around her lover's body, crushing him to her as they writhed together on the bed, her heavy breasts flattened against his chest as their mouths joined, tongues probing, embracing wetly. Their clothing was strewn in heaps about the room in evidence of the urgency of their passion. I was transfixed by the sight. "The couple broke from their embrace and what had been too obvious from the beginning was confirmed. The woman was my wife Helen. Her companion I knew slightly, a young man from the local tennis club. His young muscular body reclined naked on my bed, his chest covered in a mat of black hair, at his groin a thick bush of that same hair and jutting from that bush, fiercely erect, his solid, massive manhood reared towards Helen, the foreskin pulled back hard to reveal the engorged crown. "Helen reached out and grasped his maleness, caressed its length slowly, teasing the sac of his scrotum and along the veined underside with her sharp red nails. I stood rooted to the spot, more enjoying the erotic spectacle of two healthy animals at play than angered by Helen's blatant infidelity. As the young man enjoyed Helen's caress he extended his hand cupping the massy fullness of her superb breasts, kneading the ripe mounds as Helen grunted her approval. "Helen began to trail her tongue over the boy's lean, hard body, licking his skin from breast to belly, dipping her darting pink tongue into his navel, laving his flat stomach. Her lips dwelt at his nipples, her teeth nibbling the vestigial buds as she adored his nude maleness with her mouth. "At last, grasping his hard erection in both hands, she lowered her lips over the angry red crown and, drawing most of the length into her mouth, sucked hungrily on the fleshy rod. She bobbed her head, partially releasing his member, then plunged her mouth back down to engulf him totally. Her cheeks bulged as she feasted on him, forcing more of his length between her gaping jaws. "As Helen gorged on his rampant maleness his fingers probed her sex, parting her labia and plunging deep into her juicy cavern. Her mouth stuffed full of him, Helen groaned deep in her throat as his fingers worked inside her. "He withdrew his fingers coated with her liberally flowing juices and probed her bum-cleft. Finding the puckered ring of her anus he frigged in and out of that tiny hole as Helen's buttocks clenched in delight.

"With a distinct 'plop' Helen released his glistening erection from between her lips. She placed herself on all fours on the bed, spreading herself, inviting him to mount her. The young man knelt behind her, running his hands over her back and the smooth roundness of her bottom. Then taking his manhood in one hand he placed it at the porch of her sex, held her tightly by the hips and lunged home, burying himself deep inside her. "I held my breath as they began to rut - he thrusting strongly and impaling Helen on his shaft, his hard belly slapping against her buttocks, she back-thrusting to meet him. He seized handfuls of her breasts, kneading the pliant flesh as his hardness reamed her oozing sex. "Helen was groaning and squealing by turns as he squeezed her tender teats and probed the depths of her womanhood. Her eyes were tightly shut, her tongue worked over her lips. She shook her head in wild abandon as her lover's hardness worked deep inside her. She screamed loudly, 'Yes! Yes!' and a shuddering climax shook her body. She gave herself up to the sensation, collapsing in a heap on the bed, the young man's unsatisfied cock slipping from her, still erect and shiny with her juices. "Fascinated, I remained fixed to the spot, fighting hard to keep silent and not betray my presence. At no time did I think to interrupt them. "In a little while Helen had recovered and lay back on the pillows, her legs parted wide. Her heavy breasts lolled on her ribcage, the cherry red nipples still engorged with passion. She used her fingers to open her sex lips ready to receive her lover's still erect male hardness. Instead the young man bent down over her sex and plunged his tongue into her gaping hole, his tongue eagerly lapping at her juices. He licked at her clitoris as she writhed on the bed under his ministrations. Her pleasure intensified until finally she screamed, 'Oh fuck me, fuck meee! Please, oh please!' "Dragging his juice-smeared face from between her legs the young man mounted her again and drove deep into her sopping wet cunt - all the while his eager mouth now clamped to her bosom sucking at her tender breast-flesh. His powerful thrusts rocked the bed as she clasped his buttocks, forcing him deeper and deeper inside her. His strokes quickened, his shining length drawing partially out of her gaping womanhood then plunging deep into her cavern. His buttocks clenched tightly and he ceased his rutting and at last he was spending his seed deep, deep inside her, filling her womb with his coming. "They collapsed in a sweating, panting heap on the dishevelled bed. I took this as my cue to interrupt the proceedings, rushing from my hiding place into the room. "The young man, predictably, grabbed up his clothes, stuffed his wilting manhood, still covered in my wife's musky sex juices, into his trousers and disappeared. Helen, of course, had nowhere to run to and had to face the consequences. An ugly scene of recrimination and confession followed, with Helen, predictably, in floods of tears. "As it turned out this boy was not the fullest extent of her infidelities. She had had several lovers, even numbering some of my employees among them. This was the worst aspect, since not only was she unfaithful, she was indiscreet." At this point I made soothing noises of regret, but I must admit that I failed to see how I might help the man, marital counselling not being my line at all. I signed to one of the club servants who at once refreshed our glasses. When he had gone and we were once again alone we resumed our conversation. "No. No," John Marsh continued, brushing his thick grey hair back over his scalp, "that is not the nature of my problem at all. In fact I rather look upon the events of that day as offering a glorious opportunity. It is capitalising on that opportunity which presents the problem. "You see, when I picked Helen for my bride I was of course attracted by her abundant good looks, her good breeding and so on, but I also thought I detected something else in her makeup: a certain innocence, a certain need for protection, a certain meekness. Do you follow me?" I said I thought I did and let him continue.

"Well, of course, when I caught Helen in bed with this boy I made a great show of anger and indignation, shouting and threatening divorce. She seemed to want to avoid that - she knew where she was well off, I suppose. So she tried tears. She tried promises. She wheedled and she whined. "I remained implacable: only a divorce would do. I was at pains to remind her that since she was the guilty party she should expect no financial settlement from me. "At last, however, I let her get things talked around so she had promised me anything so long as I would give up on the divorce. 'Anything?' I had asked archly. 'Yes, anything!' she answered, adding a tear for sincerity. " 'Well,' I said finally, 'I want you to agree to be a truly, totally obedient wife, the old-fashioned kind who submits willingly to any of her husband's little whims, entertains his friends gladly and bends to his will.' "I am sure she did not fully understand the true import of what I had said but still she agreed readily and that's a start. I am sure with proper training I could bring out the submissive streak in her - but that is the problem. How best to do it? I am afraid I do not have the experience of starting from scratch, breaking someone in so to speak. And of course I am away a lot - how could she be properly supervised then?" Now I understood. This was exactly the sort of problem where my experience and my personal intervention could help John Marsh and his wife too. I immediately offered to assist him in his very serious undertaking. We took more brandy to seal the bargain. I spent perhaps the next hour explaining to my new acquaintance how I proposed to tackle his problem, with several illustrations drawn from experience. He agreed to put himself entirely in my hands and to be guided by the light of my experience. I for my part agreed to join him at his country estate within a few days and to stay with him until we had wrought the transformation in his wayward wife which he so earnestly desired. I also advised him as to the preparations he should make against my arrival, in particular that he should in secret select and acquire a suitable wardrobe of clothing for his wife, since from the commencement of her training she should wear nothing but of our choosing. Similarly that he should arrange quarters for his wife that should afford no privacy or means of retreat but should equally be capable of securing her when we desired. Of course we thoroughly discussed the whole question of instruments of correction, but found that between us we were amply supplied with all such necessities. Finally I counselled him that he should secure by whatever means an ample and written confession of all his wife's sexual misdemeanours. I stressed that this confession was a crucial part of our plan of campaign and that it should be as detailed as he could persuade his wife to make it. I then bade him farewell until I should join him in the country to begin training the lovely but wayward Helen. The next day I set about putting my affairs in order, which took but a short time as I had only just returned from abroad. I also made a few necessary purchases for the project I now had in hand. Then I shut up my flat in Kensington and by the weekend was ready to go down to the country to assist my new acquaintance in his serious but potentially enjoyable enterprise.

2: INITIATION It was thus that on a February afternoon, after a pleasant run down from London, I arrived at John Marsh's extensive Tudor house, set in some acres of woods and parkland near the south coast. As I approached along the long shingle drive I noted with satisfaction that its seclusion afforded a privacy ideally suited to our joint purposes. There was a village some three miles distant, some adjoining common land where people sometimes walked, but no close human habitation. The house itself was surrounded by extensive formal gardens and the property included several outbuildings, particularly a stable block. The whole was surrounded by high walls pierced with heavy, well-secured gates.

My new acquaintance had certainly understated his personal wealth and his standing in the community if the extent of his estate was to be taken as any indication. John Marsh, having himself made me comfortable in my rooms, ran over the arrangements he had made and satisfied me that all was ready to begin his wife's training in the ways of submission and obedience. In particular he placed in my hands the written confession he had extracted from her. Apparently she had needed little persuasion and had written in graphic detail about her infidelities. It seemed that she had somehow seized the opportunity to spite her husband by parading her lovers and their mutual acts of treachery before her wronged spouse. I quickly scanned the manuscript to satisfy myself that it was suited to our purpose. I was delighted to see that I held in my hand a work of graphic eroticism, detailing in clear terms Helen's varied sexual encounters with some fifteen men, sometimes singly, sometimes in groups. She had certainly been a very naughty girl and was in dire need of the correction we planned for her. It was now, indeed, time to begin that course of training and correction for past errors which I was certain would result in Helen coming to that most desirable state of true submissiveness. She would be trained to bend to the will of her husband without coercion, and to accept punishment gladly and in acknowledgement of its beneficial effects. We thus descended to the main living area of the house, formerly the "Great Hall' of the Tudor manor house, but now tastefully and comfortably modernised. It was a broadly proportioned room, well lit and dominated by a great open hearth in which a fine blaze was set against the chill of the onset of evening. Two high-backed chairs were arranged side by side facing the fire, thus giving the form of a judgement seat or tribunal, before which the guilty Helen would be summoned to present herself. On a low table before these seats we set the confessions which Helen had prepared at her husband's bidding, and other articles proper to our proceedings. A little further off, before the fire, an armchair had been arranged, innocently presaging the punishment to come. Seating ourselves in the seats of judgement, John Marsh sounded a small bell which stood on the table. After but a few seconds, Helen, obedient to the summons, entered and with a smile on her full lips, stood before us. She was (and indeed is) a handsome, well-set girl with long black hair tumbling to her bare shoulders, sparkling expressive eyes and a fine, unblemished, pale skin. Her full figure was clad (at John's choosing) in a black velvet gown, with a full ankle-length skirt. Her jaunty air showed that she still considered our activity to be some strange game of her husband's devising, designed to embarrass her, but no more than that. I fixed her gaze and spoke firmly. "Helen, it is not necessary that you know who I am. You need only know that I am here at your husband's express wish to assist him in your training and that you are to obey me in all things without demur, as if I were he. "You have by your own admission proved constantly unfaithful to your lawful husband and master. We have before us your signed confession of your misdeeds, portions of which you will read aloud from time to time to remind you of your guilt. We have of course deposited the original with your husband's solicitor. "In order to escape the just divorce with which your husband threatened you and which would reduce you to deserved penury, you have agreed to accede to his wish that you should render yourself a perfect submissive and obedient wife. You have thus engaged to obey his entire will, to perform all such acts of service as he shall desire and to submit to whatever correction he shall devise." At this last clause her look of mild amusement was replaced with a fleeting look of apprehension. Was what she had taken to be a mere promise of wifely chastity, surrounded by some rather silly ceremonial to take on a deeper and for her a darker character? I continued: "In token of your submission you will sign this agreement which is now before you on the table." I indicated a single sheet of paper on which were summarised my remarks in the form of an agreement.

"You will read it aloud." Helen stepped forward and took the proffered paper in her well-manicured hand. In a steady voice she read: % Helen Marsh, in recognition of the many wrongs I have done, do bind myself in total submission to my master John Marsh. I request him to chastise me for those wrongs as he sees fit and ask him to give me such training and correction as he may consider fitting to bend me to his will. I recognise gladly that my whole self is his property to use and dispose as he sees fit." At first Helen hesitated, but at a growled order from her husband she stepped to the table and appended her signature. "Now," I continued when she was again standing erect and facing us, "as to the details of the conduct to which you have constrained yourself. From this point forward you give up all right to selfdirection and place yourself wholly under the control and constraint of your husband, or myself as his deputy. You will act only as we direct, neither eating, sleeping, coming or going save as we specify. "Henceforth you may not speak except when so directed. You will answer the summons of this bell and perform all instructions promptly and without demur. "You are to have no private thoughts but will be supplied with a journal to which you will daily commit all thoughts and feelings for our perusal. "You shall wear no clothing or other personal adornment but as we shall direct. As a general rule you are to wear no underpants or garter-belt, thus leaving your buttocks available to receive casual punishment as needed at any time. "You will at all times lower your eyes directing your gaze to the ground. "You will no longer share your husband's bed; special apartments have been prepared for you. "Any demur or lack of assiduity in carrying out our instructions or any shortcomings in the service you render will be punished as we see fit. You shall also receive correction for past misdemeanours or indeed at our whim. You will readily receive such punishment and signify your gratitude for such kindly correction." By this time the true enormity of that to which she had agreed had truly dawned on the lovely Helen and a pink flush had suffused her pale cheeks. Her eyes were now wide with astonishment. John Marsh now spoke: "Do you still engage to behave as I ask? It is that or we begin divorce proceedings, and as you know I have ample and damning evidence." The girl, although thunderstruck, certainly understood the import of his threat, and after only a moment of further hesitation bowed her head in token of submission. "Good." I took up the theme again. "You will therefore prepare yourself to receive your first expiatory punishment. Remove your pants, raise your skirts above your bottom and place yourself over the arm of that chair." As if in a daze Helen reached beneath her wide skirt, drew down her filmy white pants and stepped out of them, leaving the scrap of garment at her feet. Obediently she turned, raised the loose skirt as she had been bidden to waist height, affording us a glimpse of her pubic thatch and finely turned legs, and draped herself in a perfect image of submission over the padded arm of the chair. We now had a full view of her pale, slightly plump buttocks, the dark bum cleft which separated the nates clearly in view. The whole charming picture was framed, as it were, by her garter-belt which held taut her flesh coloured stockings.

John Marsh, positioning himself behind the recumbent Helen, began to warm her with a firm and vigorous spanking to those naked buttocks which were uplifted to his hand. His first stroke connected firmly on the full rondure of Helen's bottom with a loud 'Thwackkk!', causing her to squeal with pain and surprise. As he established a rhythm of blows Helen at each stroke gave out a low grunt as she absorbed the shock. John Marsh's busy hand rapidly covered her quivering bum-cheeks with stroke after stroke, the whole area becoming suffused with a pink glow. After some minutes of this treatment he stood back to admire his handiwork. Helen, assuming that this was to be the end of her trials made to rise, passing a hand behind to comfort her aching bottom. Before she had resumed her feet I spoke sternly: "You have not been permitted to rise! This has been only a foretaste of the punishment to come. Remember you are to act only in accordance with our direct instructions. As you will learn, disobedience will only increase the ultimate burden of your punishment. Now down again!" Helen again draped herself across the chair and presented her posterior to us. I signed to her husband to restrain her by taking a grip on her wrists from the front, while I armed myself with a cane which had been kept out of sight until now. The first stroke of the cane slashed squarely across the most fleshy part of her bum, the very apex, leaving a clear red mark. The girl raised her head, struggling against her husband's restraining grasp, and literally howled with the intensity and unexpectedness of the pain. I continued to wield the cane, carefully placing each stroke on the fleshy portion of Helen's rear, either side of my first cut - two, three, four, five and six measured strokes - each stinging contact of wood and flesh drawing a similar howl of pain. For the first time, but definitely not the last, Helen's pretty face was contorted by a grimace of pain. "Now, my girl - here but for your disobedience your first taste of correction would have ended. Now however, you will receive two more strokes of the cane." I drew back my arm and let fly a stinging slash bringing the instrument just beneath her buttock flesh, where the plumpness of upper thigh merged with her bottom. Her bum-cheeks clenched tightly. I waited until she had again relaxed her cheeks, letting her feel the true depth of the pain, then dealt her a final blow square across the nates. "You may now rise," I ordered as John Marsh, releasing his grip, permitted the girl to regain her feet and gingerly pass a comforting hand to her aching bottom. "We will now conduct you to your room, where you will remain until summoned - and you will use your time to reflect on this first lesson in humility." Without further comment we led the girl, who had now begun to quiver from head to toe with the shock of her ordeal, to the bare room which had been prepared for her future confinement in accordance with my instructions. The chamber consisted of a sparsely furnished room, lacking all decoration, with heavily shuttered windows equipped with secure locks. The furnishings consisted only of a bed, a desk and a high-backed chair, and a prie-dieu (which was to figure prominently at a later stage in Helen's schooling). Matters had further been arranged to permit the door to be locked only from the outside and for the lights to be controlled only from without likewise. "Now Helen, you will strip yourself and remain here naked until you are summoned. As we have already specified you will use this time to commit to writing all your thoughts concerning the events of this evening. I warn you to be both diligent and scrupulous." Without protest the girl, still trembling, removed her dress, her remaining undergarments and stockings and stood naked and bewildered as we left the room, locking the door behind us.

We used the next hours to refresh ourselves with a light meal and to discuss further our plan for the training of the wayward girl. At our first encounter we had relied on the element of surprise and bewilderment to ensure Helen's submission to the punishments and the regime we had prepared for her. While the overall threat of divorce was sure to secure her general obedience, it was our intention to increase the severity of the punishments we inflicted on her and to heap further humiliation upon her. Ultimately our plan of progressive humiliation and correction, working on her own natural but until now submerged inclinations, would bring Helen willingly to submit to whatever treatment her husband might devise; however at this early stage some means of restraint and coercion was mandated to secure her cooperation. I had therefore brought with me a form of punishment stool which, like the stocks of old, could be used to restrain a miscreant while punishment was applied. We set up this useful device in the main living area and covered it with a heavy cloth, lest sight of it might alarm the young woman and lose us the benefit of surprise. Several hours had now passed and evening had become night. Helen had had some time in which to reflect on her new situation, naked, alone and uncertain in her bare room. It was now time to build on the first foundations that John Marsh and I had laid by adding intense humiliation and an increasing burden of punishment to her experience. Accordingly, I went alone to fetch her. Pausing at the door I used the spyhole which had been provided to view her secretly in the brightly lit room. She lay, naked as we had left her, in a light sleep on the narrow bed. I quickly opened the door and entered. Helen, startled, came awake and half rose, shaking her head to clear it from sleep. I firmly grasped her arm and jerked her upright to a sitting position on the bed. "So you have not yet learnt that complete obedience is now your lot. You may recline, rest, sleep, only when expressly permitted! You were told to contemplate and record your thoughts - which I see you have neglected to do. You are now to rejoin us for further instruction, your punishment will - I promise you - be attended to later! Here, put these on!" I handed her a pair of sheer black stockings and garters to support them. These when she had sheathed her legs served to heighten her pale nudity and to contrast her nakedness with our fully clothed state. When also she had thrust her feet into the four-inch stiletto-heeled shoes which completed her outfit, her out-thrust bottom and well-shaped legs presented a pleasing picture of a novice submissive. I now led her back to the living room and again placed her before us, making her stand with head correctly bowed and downcast eyes, her hands clasped behind her back. While John Marsh lectured her on her duties, which, for the time being should consist of domestic chores, cooking, cleaning and generally seeing to our comfort, I had an opportunity to examine and admire the charms of our attractive victim at leisure. Her pale skin was unblemished, her frame well fleshed, tending to a slight but pleasing plumpness. Her firm breasts (by no means girlish) tipped by delicious cherry red nipples were indeed most pinchable. Her flat, firm belly descended to a wellthatched vee where her thighs pressed tightly, hiding her sex. For some time we made use of her to wait upon us, to fetch drinks, make up the fire and so on. When not about these trivial errands she stood, ready to command, while we beguiled the time with talk. At last we were again ready to try her fortitude and to mete out some further punishment. By this time I was sure that while her bottom still reminded her of her earlier experience, the full fire had abated and she would be capable of supporting some further trial. "So Helen," I began, "you have proved yourself disobedient and idle, in addition to behaving like a bitch in season. It is now time to submit yourself to some further punishment." I then produced a leather tawse and presented the supple leather to her horrified gaze.

"It is our sentence that you shall receive thirty strokes of this tawse on your naked bottom." Helen began to back away, but John Marsh, who had positioned himself behind his wife, now pinioned her arms and held her immobile. Quickly we revealed the punishment bench and secured the struggling girl in its steely grasp. Thus Helen was secured in a kneeling posture, her posterior tilted upwards to receive. Her arms were stretched out before her and secured at the wrist by manacles, such that the weight of her body rested on her forearms, leaving her full bosom dangling udder-like beneath her tautly stretched torso. We likewise secured her ankles, rendering her effectively immobile. Our subject being thus secured we laid on with the tawse, administering the promised thirty strokes over the whole area of her bare nates and upper thighs. We divided the punishment between us, each laying on five strokes with a pause between each set to savour the effect. When the first stroke of the firm leather connected with her taut buttocks. Helen squealed, arched her back and threw back her head in anguish. Each subsequent stroke drew forth a low moan, her frame shuddered causing her dangling breasts to jiggle deliriously. Under each stroke she wriggled trying desperately to ease her pain or avoid the lash. As the punishment progressed her tightly clenched buttocks relaxed and her whole tensely held frame slumped over the wooden bench. At last deep sobs of misery wracked her body and floods of tears coursed down her flushed cheeks. John Marsh yielded the tawse to me after the first set of five strokes. After a brief pause, I struck at Helen's buttocks with an underarm motion, watching the opulent bumflesh ripple under the impact of the supple leather. I continued in this vein for the remaining strokes, each punctuated by a howl of pain from Helen's lips. Once again her face bore witness to her anguish, as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Again it was John Marsh's turn, and again he smote vigorously at his wife's quivering rump. And so between us, turn and turn about until at last the full tally of strokes were given and received and we paused to admire the fiery red mass of her behind. We released her and brought her to her feet; however she was too exhausted by the vigour of her punishment and the discomfort of her position, and slumped, sobbing, to her knees. We again assisted her to rise, conveyed her to her room and laid her face down on the bed. Then, securing her hands and feet by manacles which were set at the head and foot of the bed, we left her to rest from her ordeal. Thus ended Helen's introduction to submission and correction. Over the next few days and weeks further disciplines and humiliation were to be hers until we had properly schooled her in the ways of obedience, but for now we allowed her to rest peacefully and to recover her strength.

3: LESSONS BEGIN After her severe ordeal of the previous evening we allowed Helen to rest undisturbed until midmorning, fending for ourselves in the matter of breakfast and so on. This was both a small kindness, allowing the girl to regather her spirits for yet further trials to come, but was also intended to reinforce the nature of her position of solitude and subjugation, since until we chose to release her she was effectively confined to her bed in the position in which we had restrained her the previous night. Towards ten o'clock, however, we entered the bare room to find Helen fully awake, but as we had left her, chained face down on the bed. Her bottom still, unsurprisingly, bore the vivid marks of her ordeal. We released her and allowed her to stand and rub the stiffness from her limbs. Tentatively she placed a hand over her tortured bottom which must surely have continued to smart from the previous evening's tawsing, wincing as she sought to comfort her hurt. A bathroom and dressing room adjoining her sleeping quarters had been provided for Helen's use. We allowed her to draw a hot bath and to soak the ache from her body for some while.

Meanwhile, her husband and I selected suitable clothing for her from the quite extensive wardrobe which he had gathered together. Helen was then permitted to attend to her appearance, carefully applying make-up and brushing her long black hair until it shone before dressing herself in the outfit we had chosen and putting on an appropriate perfume and the jewellery we had also chosen for her. As her toilet progressed it was explained to Helen that her primary duty was to please her husband in all things. His prime pleasure was in her appearance and therefore each day on rising she was to attend first to ensuring that her dress, hairstyle, perfume and other personal adornment were exactly as he wished. We repeated that, in this, as in all things she had been stripped of personal choice and should do only as she was told. Thus began the first period proper of Helen's schooling in the ways of submission - the previous evening's initiation being in some regard to test her fortitude and to determine if Helen was likely to respond well to our planned programme of training. John Marsh and I both considered that in Helen, beneath the thin veneer of modern womanhood with its insubstantial freedoms and equalities, lay a more basic, primitive desire to gain fulfilment in total submissiveness to the will of a dominant male. In short we suspected that Helen's psyche hid a skein of submissiveness which could be brought to the surface by the correct treatment. Once revealed this would enable her to embrace, indeed revel in, total obedience to her husband's will. Certainly a heavy element of this psychological character involves a need to suffer punishment at the hands of the master. We had considered that Helen's make-up embodied this trait and had set out to make a trial of our theory the evening before. Helen's performance under correction and her general compliance (after a token resistance) with our directions led us to believe that in her case we were proved right. I was thus convinced that John Marsh's opinions which he had shared with me a few days before were correct in every particular. I was sure then that Helen could achieve the highest order of sexual gratification through being placed in the subservient role we intended for her. The plan of training through which we now proposed to guide our attractive pupil was therefore designed to bring Helen's own natural inclinations to the surface. Our first care was to strip away the girl's resistance by subjecting her to intense humiliation. Even for a young lady of Helen's sexual experience, to be stripped naked and made to exhibit her evident and most intimate charms to fully clothed (and in my case anonymous) tormentors must prove intensely humiliating. Added to this, to be made to adopt certain intensely erotic modes of dress, highlighting her nudity for the especial pleasure of those same tormentors, could only increase that humiliation. As we have seen, John Marsh was particularly fond of the sight of his wife clad only in black stockings, the dark silken webs emphasising the pale creaminess of her bare flesh. Of course we enjoyed her garbed thus on many occasions. At other times we added to her ensemble a tight black basque which pinched her waist and provided merely an uplifting platform for her heavy breasts. On yet other occasions we dressed her in a garment of leather strips, more revealing than concealing, baring her buttocks perfectly to receive punishment. Sometimes we even caused her to wear an oldfashioned corset. Tightly laced, it thrust her bosom upwards and emphasised the outward thrust of her bottom while tightly constricting her belly and waist. High-heeled shoes perfectly set off her shapely legs when dressed in these exotic outfits, although boots too were used to heighten the erotic effect of her immodest attire. At other times, however, such exoticism was contrasted by John Marsh's innate good taste when he made Helen dress herself in the finest clothes available from the London and Paris fashion houses. Thus we asserted overtly that Helen's role was simply to afford us pleasure by dressing her in ways which accentuated and highlighted her physical beauties. As was explained to Helen at her initiation, we proposed to deprive her of all self-determination and of all privacy. She would be supervised at most times and when this was not possible or convenient she would be placed under restraint to ensure her strict compliance with our wishes. She was to take no independent actions without our specific command. So, having bathed her sore limbs and attended to her dress, we introduced Helen to the daily routine which was to form the central theme of her training in submissiveness.

As we have already seen, on being released from her bonds each morning Helen would be allowed some time to bathe and make herself attractive for her master. She was then to busy herself with preparing breakfast and drawing baths for her husband and myself. Only when our needs had been fully attended to was Helen permitted to refresh herself with food and drink. At first as a general principle she was not to eat in our presence and would be allowed refreshment only when we had eaten or drunk our fill. Later we allowed her to feed herself in our presence, either standing or kneeling at our feet. For the rest of the day Helen was to undertake a variety of domestic chores concerned with running the household, but above all was required to wait upon our pleasure in all things. At meal times, in particular, Helen would wait upon us, serving the food she had prepared to our order, pouring wine or silently standing to one side awaiting our bidding while we pointedly ignored her presence. Although it may seem at first view that these duties were quite trivial and by no means arduous, it must be remembered that heretofore Helen had been of the leisured classes with servants of her own to command. Now the servants had been dismissed and Helen was obliged to act in the character of a domestic, with two very demanding masters. Every opportunity was taken to compound Helen's humiliation by finding fault with the way she carried out her duties. Indeed Helen, being untrained for such labour, was genuinely found wanting on many occasions. Additionally, during the course of the day Helen was allowed time to reflect on her new situation, and most importantly to commit her thoughts and feelings, without any scruple, to a sort of journal or diary of her subjection. This activity was conceived to have a double purpose. On the one hand our victim would be deprived even of the last vestige of privacy which might remain to her - even the secret workings of her mind were no longer hers by right. Secondly, a candid record of her feelings as they developed under the rigours of her training would enable John Marsh and myself to determine how our pupil was responding and the level of her development along the path to our desired objective. At first it would be perfectly possible for Helen to dissemble and to produce a journal which was less than wholly candid. Experience had taught me, however, that deprivation of other means of expression and habituation to the process of committing such thoughts to paper (together with a little judicious urging by means of wood and leather) would eventually lead her to unburden herself frankly and honestly on every occasion. Additionally, having experienced this process before, I was able to differentiate between humbug and true feeling. Of course, a large and vital part of Helen's schooling would consist of subjection to punishment in many forms. John Marsh was rightly insistent that Helen should be made to expiate her sins of infidelity under strict and rigorous punishment. As an aside I believe that her sexual antics meant but little to him; in fact they amused and titillated him. It was rather the deceptions she had practised which so angered him. In addition to this expiatory punishment, however, much of the correction she was to endure was also to provide a formative stimulus, leading her to seek pleasure through pain (particularly pain suffered at the hand or behest of her master), and eventually to desire such punishment to be visited on her for its own sake and indeed for her own pleasure. After her harsh experiences of the evening before, we initially spared Helen from further heavy punishment, particularly leaving her bottom to fully recover from the tawsing. Just as when breaking a horse to the saddle one avoids excessive duress or cruel treatment lest such harshness might ruin a valuable animal, so we avoided such excess with Helen, preferring to rely on firm, consistent treatment to produce our desired effect rather than an unwanted aversion to the rod. Thus in those early days after her initiation we contented ourselves with correcting Helen's misdemeanours with a sharp stroke from a leather strap across her calves, or like a naughty child, slapping her open palm with that same strap or with a handy wooden ruler. Later, when we considered that she was able to support it, we increased the severity of her punishments and the humiliating nature of the postures in which she received the punitive strokes. According to our whim (and her desert) we spanked, caned, tawsed and otherwise punished her bare defenceless flesh, with her partly clothed and completely unclothed, under restraint or, later, bravely supporting the rigours of our attacks without bonds. Again, according to our whim, Helen was made to stand before us after punishment, as we admired her glowing posterior or the stripes we had raised

on her flesh. She was made to adopt a variety of supplicatory positions at these times, perhaps hands on head, her breasts and buttocks thrust out delightfully, or at other times simply kneeling before us, head bowed. We were also at pains to coach Helen from the outset on the tone of voice and her speech when addressing her master or myself. As was specified on the first night of her training, she was not allowed to speak at all unless addressed by her master or otherwise expressly permitted to do so. When allowed to utter, we impressed upon her that her voice should be subdued, of quiet tone and timbre, reflecting the humility of her position. She was enjoined always to take care to express her conviction that all punishment she received was well deserved and gratefully accepted, and also to show her gratitude for her master's many kindnesses towards her. We emphasised that permission to speak was to be treated as an opportunity to express both reverence for her master and to show her own humility. I had also impressed upon John Marsh the necessity for us both to remain sexually aloof from our attractive prey, even though the sight of such fair flesh under punishment might prove particularly arousing. In this way we would ensure that our domination of our subject would prove absolute until we had succeeded in bringing to the surface her natural inclinations, without clouding issues with unwonted intimacies. My companion allowed himself to be guided by me and added a further gloss to this plan by insisting that Helen should be deprived as far as possible of all means of sexual gratification until we should be ready, thus adding sexual frustration to the other burdens of her punishment. We achieved this objective by chaining her limbs whenever we left her alone, thus preventing her from caressing her own sexual parts and bringing herself some small relief to her pent-up energies in that way. At all other times she was closely supervised and then was of course unable to give herself relief. So we passed a number of days, Helen waiting upon us and so becoming habituated to her duties and to her new life of obedience, while John Marsh and I, when not attending to her training, relaxed and enjoyed the pleasant house and its surroundings. When not supervising our delightful victim, one or other of us might walk in the gardens or woods nearby or visit the nearest town. In addition the extensive house and grounds also boasted a well-equipped gymnasium and swimming pool. John Marsh used both often, keeping his lean, hard body in fine condition and giving the lie to his fiftysome years. I, myself, at this time was engaged in certain esoteric studies which from time to time called for me to visit the university library in the nearby cathedral city. My collaborator, of course, had to be about his business affairs and was absent every so often at his office. In the evenings after dinner we passed the time agreeably enough over a game of chess perhaps, sometimes reading or otherwise enjoying each other's companionship. I was thus able to become better acquainted with my host. During this time I was impressed by the forcefulness of his character and opinions and his resolution in pursuit of a desired objective. Here, indeed, was a man able to dominate any situation, a leader among men. We found that apart from our dominant sexual preferences and a shared interest in administering corporal punishment, we had many interests in common. This coupled with his open-handed hospitality soon turned mere acquaintance into firm friendship. At these times of relaxation Helen either stood to one side ready to do our bidding - bringing wine, cigars, coffee and so on - or she was banished to her room. There she was constrained to work on her journal, contemplate in silence, usually on her knees, or to read some suitably uplifting text. For example, The History of O was included among her reading materials, in the expectation that in reading of O's ordeals and of her awakening Helen would be led to a deeper understanding of her own situation and potential. After a few such days, however, John Marsh and I considered that Helen had recovered so well from her initiation that we might again introduce her to some more rigorous form of punishment. Inspection of her nether regions confirmed our view - the angry redness of her flesh had now resolved to its usual creamy whiteness and the tenderness of her posterior had quite subsided. That night, therefore, over coffee in the lounge John Marsh turned to his charming wife and spoke. "Helen, it is time that you experienced some further punishments to please us. You have proved quite inept in your duties and you have failed particularly in keeping an honest record of your

feelings in the journal we wish you to prepare." This last point was indeed true. Helen had totally failed to give herself honestly and openly to this duty and so we wished to turn her attention to it forcibly this evening. John Marsh continued: "You will go to the Blue Room. There you will remove your clothes - quite naked mind you. And you will remain standing by the bed to await our pleasure." Helen's face clouded slightly with a distinct look of apprehension. She had obviously not forgotten her treatment of a few nights before when she had tasted the sharp medicine of leather on her bare behind for the first time. She now realised, however, that there could be no demur and obediently took herself off to the Blue Room. For a while John Marsh and I lingered over our coffee, playing on Helen's obvious apprehensions which could only be heightened by what she would find in the Blue Room as she stood naked and alone in obedience to our instructions. This room, one of the many bedrooms in the old Tudor house, had been fitted out as a punishment chamber. The punishment stool of Helen's initiations had been set up there. There was also a whipping post and a variety of other means of securing a victim in postures of humiliation while receiving punishment, including an old-fashioned pillory or stocks. At the centre of the chamber the wide four-poster bed remained, now covered with a black satin sheet. We at length judged that Helen had had sufficient time to be impressed by the full import of her surroundings and so we, too, mounted to the Blue Room. We found Helen, palely naked, her soft white body bathed in the subdued light, standing head bowed beside the black-sheeted bed. Terrible apprehension was clearly written on her face and her underlip trembled like a terrified child. John Marsh again spoke to her: "Helen, before you receive your punishment we wish to place upon you a mark of your obligation, which shall remind you constantly of your submissive position." Helen started at this remark with its mention of 'marking'. My companion continued: "You will therefore wear this collar at all times to signify your bond to me." So saying he placed a steel band about her throat, locking it at the back with a small golden lock. To soften the harshness of the metal this symbol of Helen's submission was covered in black velvet and so could pass as a simple piece of female adornment, but to the initiated marked Helen out in her servitude. "You will now prepare to receive your punishment. You will lie face down on the bed," John Marsh commanded. Helen did as she was told, climbing on to the bed and lying prone on the black satin. We fixed her in a spreadeagled position facing the end of the bed, securing her wrists and ankles by means of strong leather cords which bit into her flesh. We placed a tall dressing mirror at the end of the bed so that Helen would have a good view of her tormentors as we wrought our will on her exposed and defenceless body. We each took up a leather strap, about three feet in length and an inch wide - black supple cowhide of the finest quality. We stood on either side of the bed, level with Helen's bottom. The pale mounds of her rump rose temptingly from the sea of black satin; the muscles of her back and shoulders were held in tension by the tight leather thongs fastened to the bed posts. In her spreadeagled posture Helen's legs were drawn wide apart, exposing the gash of her sex and slightly parting her bum-cheeks, making a dark mysterious valley of her bum-cleft. I drew back my arm and with a lazy overarm motion unleashed the black leather against its target. The strap described a gentle arc, curving through the still air, and slapped squarely on the curve of Helen's bottom. Involuntarily the girl emitted a soft groan "Unngh!" and twitched her bottom. A reddening of the creamy skin marked the point of impact. Then John Marsh in his turn lashed at Helen's defenceless nates, putting a little more power

behind his stroke. The supple leather descended onto the soft fleshy globe with a loud 'craaak! Helen recoiled from the blow, arching her back and with tight-shut eyes exclaimed, "Owwwch!" We alternated our strokes, first John Marsh then I, playing the straps over Helen's quivering fesses, the bum-crease opening wider as she relaxed her great muscle more and more under the heavy punishment. Between each stroke we paused briefly to let Helen savour the full effect of her tingling, burning, aching posteriors, and to admire the growing mass of red stripes which threatened to coalesce into one glowing whole. We lowered our sights a little and began to punish Helen's plump upper thighs, where the fleshy legs meet the lobe of the buttock. My stroke 'thwacked' solidly on the unsullied flesh, John Marsh's followed turning the red stripe to purple. Under this punishment Helen's cries of anguish became a veritable litany - "Owwch!" with one lash, "Oh Christ. Oh Damn!" with another, "Shit, Owwch! Ow, my arse!" as a particularly forceful stroke bit her quaking flesh. This stream of expletives only spurred us on to torment her flesh the more. After a while Helen's breathing was coming in great pants, as the cries and obscenities poured from her. We paused to rest her a little and (if the truth be known) to rest ourselves and so prolong the entertainment. Soon she calmed and lay panting on the black satin sheet which had become rucked and creased as she bucked and writhed under the lash of our leather straps. And as she calmed it soon became evident that the whipping she was enduring was kindling erotic sensations in our victim's loins, for as the pain in her bottom dulled to a throb, Helen began to grind her groin into the mattress, groaning with pleasure and trying desperately to frot herself to a climax. We were both amazed to see this effect so early in Helen's experience of punishment but congratulated ourselves on this happy portent for the overall outcome of our plan. We allowed her to wallow in the pleasurable sensations for a while. Then we adjusted the leather cords which her struggles had caused to bite into her flesh even more deeply, and having taken a glass of brandy each we were off again. My colleague raised his strap and this time brought it down across Helen's shoulder blades. This unexpected attack called forth a shocked squeal as Helen again bucked under the lash and her attention switched from the unsated arousal of her sex to matters of more immediacy. I followed suit and soon our victim's back was also covered in red stripes, complementing the ruddy hue of her buttocks. Again the litany of squeals and obscenities began to pour from Helen's mouth - "Shit, oww! Oh Fuck!! OOOH my back! Please, please, no more!" We again slowly and deliberately turned our attention to Helen's bottom. The glowing mound was now fully relaxed, the bum-cleft open displaying her anal hole. Still, turn and turn about, we laid on stroke after stroke turning the red streaks to angry purple welts. Helen's eyes were now tight shut, her body shook with deep spasms and tears coursed down her cheeks. At last we desisted and put up our implements of correction. We released Helen's arms and legs but she remained lying prone on the now dishevelled bed. After a while, however, she regained her composure a little and at our bidding stood to admire our handiwork wrought on her back and bottom by looking over her shoulder in the dressing mirror. In order to further revive her spirits we gave her a little brandy to drink and then, as we had ruled from the outset of her training, she was allowed to thank us for her punishment, which she did in a most charming and submissive manner, with downcast gaze, still wincing at the remembrance of the stinging lashes. We then allowed her to retire to bed, securing her again on her belly on the hard narrow bed in her sleeping quarters, and leaving her with a reminder that a more open and candid approach to her duties in keeping up her journal would now be expected of her.

4: HELEN Helen's first visit to the Blue Room and the punishment administered there proved to be most beneficial. On the morning after I went to wake her as usual and found her already awake, lying prone, chained to the bed as we had left her. Drawing back the covers I admired the deep purple weals we had raised on her bottom and across her shoulders, now blackening slightly as bruising began to form. "I expect you are very sore. I don't expect you will feel much like sitting today," I remarked ironically, because Helen had very little time to sit in the usual course of her duties. "Oh yes, it does really still hurt most awfully," she replied, "maybe I could tackle the journal lying on my tummy?" Her tone was subdued and her look imploring, although I thought I also detected a pleasing note of complicity. Already it seemed our most apt pupil was entering into the spirit of the game and was, dare I say it, finding pleasure therein. I released her and watched her while she bathed and dressed herself in the outfit we had selected for her. The velvet wrapped collar now encircled her throat, to all appearance another aspect of her female adornment. She was set to prepare breakfast and afterwards busied herself about her domestic duties. Later, in the afternoon we again conducted her to her bare room and left her with instructions to apply herself to making a start on the desired record of all her thoughts and feelings. When we returned we found that she had used her time fruitfully and had produced much that was candid and honest. Once started she rapidly became habituated to the task and began to express herself openly in a most revealing manner, as the following extracts will show: When my husband caught me in bed with Mark I did not realise to what it would lead. At the time I would have promised anything to ensure that the divorce he seemed so implacably set upon would not proceed. When he offered the alternative of 'complete obedience', it seemed an easy option - after all hadn't I promised to "Love, honour and obey'? So I agreed and my very pleasant lifestyle and my marriage to a man whom I love very deeply, despite my little affaires, seemed assured - I should just have to be a little more careful, a little more discreet in the future. Then John informed me that a special friend of his from London would be coming to stay. Suddenly, one day all the servants were dismissed and on the same day this friend from London arrived. I was puzzled, intrigued but not alarmed. No, not alarmed. The next thing I knew, John had insisted that I put on a particular dress he had chosen and that I come at once on his summons to the lounge to meet his special guest. After this events began to move rapidly and to take on a more sinister complexion. John's friend - The Man, I had better call him, since I still don't know his name - addressed me sternly and gave me a long lecture about my infidelities, my need to atone and my agreement to submit to John's will. All of this I took as some juvenile ceremonial of John's devising to somehow punish and frighten me, although I was becoming vaguely uneasy even then - particularly as The Man remained anonymous and to my chagrin seemed to know an awful lot about what I believed to be private and personal affairs. The Man continued to regard me with cold, unemotional grey eyes. Unsmiling and weighing his words, he informed me of the regime to which I must now submit, most of which I did not really take in. Then, like a bolt from the blue, he commanded me to take off my pants and to drape myself over the arm of a chair with my skirt hiked up, my bum bared to receive punishment. I was so astonished, taken off guard, that I reacted automatically and next moment found myself upended over the chair in the required posture, my bare buttocks on view to John and, worse, displayed to this sinister, threatening stranger. Butterflies began to churn in my tummy! Then John was standing behind me and he began to spank my upturned bottom, his palms beating a stinging rhythm on my fleshy behind. I suppose I must have cried out - I don't really

remember through the mingled discomfort and embarrassment. Then, as suddenly, John left off, and with relief I began to rise. My behind was a little warm, but no great damage had been done - no worse than at school anyway. If this was the end of his little charade, well . . . The stern voice of The Man froze me to the spot and I quickly resumed my recumbent posture at his command. Very slowly and deliberately The Man got up and approached me. I heard the 'swiiish!' of something cleaving the air behind me, then my bottom was on fire as the wicked cane connected with my bare bum flesh. The man laid on five more stinging strokes, visiting real, lasting pain to my poor rear end. Then he gave me two more stingers across my thighs. I howled! My mind was empty of everything except the pain spreading out from my tortured hind quarters, the heat suffusing my whole being. At last I was allowed to rise and comfort my poor bruised bottom. My tormentors led me away to my room - another surprise, since I was now to occupy a small, bare room, sparsely furnished and shut off from the outside rather than my former comfortable suite. The Man directed me to strip naked - I was so stunned by events and my ordeal with the caning that I complied at once and without protest. So I was left alone, naked and totally bewildered, locked in my bare cell. I lay down on the narrow bed and, mercifully, was overcome by sleep. Suddenly, I was being shaken awake. My strange, nameless tormentor had returned and was angrily pulling me to my feet. He made me dress myself (if it can be called dress) in a pair of sheer, black stockings, handing me garters with which to support them. At the time I was so dazed that this treatment caused me no emotion. Later, however, when I stood before my husband and this threatening stranger I became increasingly embarrassed, hot humiliation stealing over me, knowing the erotic and shameful picture I presented and feeling the stranger's cold grey eyes upon me, enjoying the sight of my heavy breasts and white flesh displayed for his pleasure. I was then made to wait upon them in this erotic and embarrassing mode of undress; made to behave as a mere servant. As I did their bidding my mind was a turmoil of emotions, fear mixed with uncertainty, helplessness mixed with deep humiliation. Then I was informed that I was to receive further punishment and the sinister stranger showed me a short, broad leather strap (which I now know is called a tawse) which he proposed to use on me. My horror at the proposal must have been obvious, for the next thing I knew was that John had restrained me from behind and I was being secured into some form of stocks or punishment bench. My arms and legs were held secure, my whole torso being held in tension to receive whatever punishment should be visited on my naked flesh. They took it in turns, John and my nameless tormentor, to lash my bottom with the supple leather instrument. I writhed, I strained against my bonds. I howled - stroke after stroke smacked on to my burning bumflesh. All thought, all emotion was driven from my mind by the burning pain the leather wrought in my fleshy buttocks. At length, I began to sob, and uncontrollable and copious tears coursed down my cheeks. At last I was released and, hardly able to stand, was returned to my cell and chained to my narrow bed, where, exhausted by my ordeal, I relapsed into a deep sleep. Yet later, Helen wrote: My life has now assumed a pattern of obedience and submission to the will of my tormentors. Each day I go about the duties they have prescribed for me, attending to their every need, speaking only when permitted. I have become a servant (no, a slave) where once I was mistress. I am so wretched, so confused. Each day on rising I am set to attend to my appearance. Formerly, before this terrible bondage, I would spend pleasurable hours preparing my makeup, pampering my body with oils and creams, selecting my outfit; pleasing and pleasuring myself. Now I have no choice, my efforts are all to please my masters, I am become nothing but a plaything, a pleasure object for John and his horrid

companion. Such subjection seemed mortifying, shame making, but beneath these feelings I already felt the stirrings of some other bittersweet emotion. Can it be that I am deriving a perverse and exciting pleasure from being so used? For some days after my first ordeal at their hands my tormentors have desisted from further heavy punishment. Certainly, I receive blows on my hands and legs to correct minor infractions of their rules, but my aching bottom has been left to recover. Indeed, after just a few days there was just a slight afterglow to remind me of that terrible and confusing experience. Yesterday, however, my masters saw fit to reintroduce heavy chastisement to our routine. Now, by contrast to my initiation, the whole experience was played out with slow deliberation so that I was made to savour every mental and physical sensation. After dinner, where as usual I had waited on John and his companion, my husband directed me to go up to the Blue Room, to undress and to remain standing to await their pleasure. Strangely, I continue to act without demur and obediently I did as I was bidden. A surprise awaited me when I reached the designated room, for what had once been an ordinary bedroom had now been transformed into a sort of torture chamber. The great four-poster bed still stood squarely in the centre of the room, but it was now covered with a black satin sheet that shone dully in the lamp light. With mounting apprehension I undressed and stood naked as I had been told. My tummy churned with anticipation of the events about to unfold, but - on looking back - no notion of flight or disobedience entered my head. Some strange desire to give myself to this trial seemed to keep me rooted to the spot. After what seemed an age, during which time my imagination had ample time to conjure up a variety of terrors, my tormentors joined me. First there was some talk of marking me - to remind myself and others of my servitude. At these remarks my stomach churned afresh. Did they mean to brand me? I trembled at the thought of hot iron searing my flesh! But no. What was intended was that I should wear a collar of steel wrapped in velvet - a bitter enough humiliation. So, my throat now encircled by this mark of my shame, I was directed to lay, spread-eagled, face down on the bed. The cool smoothness of the black satin was strangely sensual on my skin, my nipples began to bud with involuntary excitement, despite my clear anticipation of the pain I was about to experience. They tied me down with leather thongs, holding my limbs and torso tensely stretched across the bed. I was only too aware that my most intimate parts were revealed to my tormentors' gaze in this posture and I blushed hotly. Mixed in with the apprehension and the discomfort, however, the deeply exciting stomach-churning sensations continued. It gave me almost a frisson of delight to feel so overpowered, so at the mercy of my masters. John and his friend then placed a long mirror at the end of the bed so that I could see my tormentors as they stood behind me, armed with long, supple leather straps. The first stroke slapped lazily on my bare rump - I bucked and whimpered as the warmth spread across my bum-cheeks. The next was harder - a real stinger - and the fires again erupted. My buttocks became the centre of my being and that centre was filled with pain. Slowly, deliberately, they punished my quivering flesh mounds. I cried out, I squealed, obscenities poured from my lips. My tormentors allowed me some small respite and as the clouds of pain cleared I became aware of yet other sensations. This treatment was making me incredibly randy. It was bringing me to a fever pitch of excitement. My pussy burned with lust, and I literally felt the juices drooling from my nether lips. Desperately I tried to bring myself off by grinding my pubis into the bed, but to no avail. I was allowed some little time thus to attempt to bring myself to a climax before my attention was again called to the matter in hand. John and his companion resumed the beating with renewed vigour. Still I screamed and shouted. At last it was over. They released me and made me look at the weals they had raised on my naked flesh as they were reflected in the long mirror. My bottom was a mass of purplish stripes, my

back striped red. After a while I was allowed to go to bed. Lying face down that night, before sleep came, I became strangely aware of a feeling of release, almost of contentment stealing over me, mingled with the all pervading ache from my tortured frame. Yet later Helen expressed herself in the following manner: My days now merge into an endless stream - I am no longer sure how long this bondage has lasted. Every day I serve my masters in the ways they wish. Every day I endure some punishment of their choosing and still every day I am set to reveal my inner thoughts in this journal. Sometimes I am caned, others whipped or tawsed. Sometimes they tie me or chain me, at others I am left loose to bear up under the stripes that torment my undefended flesh. I am, however, getting quite used to dressing (or undressing) to please my masters and now derive something like my old pleasure in wearing fine clothes, although I still blush when made to parade naked or erotically dressed for their amusement. Of course, the pain when they beat me is horrid, but now I am quite beginning to savour the anticipation which churns my tummy before they torment me, and the feeling of release after, as I nurse my burning bottom, is beginning to be quite heady. In some ways also I am starting to enjoy being placed under restraint; there is such a delicious feeling of helplessness when in bondage, even as the bonds bite the flesh or the tawse strikes home! It is such a confusion of pleasure and pain. That is one strange aspect of my subjection. Neither of my masters has touched me sexually in any way. My punishment now makes me very randy, the fires in my bottom seem uncannily to kindle other fires in my loins. This is just made worse when I have to read over my 'confession' to them - reliving old sexual encounters just intensifies the need. I wish I could give myself some relief but when not supervised I am usually chained or bound, and then there is no privacy, so I am denied even this small pleasure. My punishment and humiliations continue. Tonight I was made to dress in a black basque which supported my heavy breasts but offered no concealment, black silk stockings and high heels. Thus bare-breasted and bare-arsed I was made to wait on my masters, serving their meal and afterwards bringing drinks and refreshing their glasses. Now it is oddly satisfying to be thus paraded under their gaze, although I still blush from time to time, especially when John's nameless companion turns his steely grey eyes upon me. Then I was commanded to bend over, resting my head on my arms on the dinner table. My breasts dangled beneath me like ripe fruit, my bottom jutted out, presented for punishment. Tonight, I was informed, they proposed to cane me - twenty strokes on my poor bare rear end. Now I am becoming somewhat habituated to punishment and suffer all except the most painful experiences in silence, gritting my teeth or biting my lip. It has almost become a source of pride with me and I believe it also pleases my masters somewhat. Strange how I have become interested in what pleases them! The first stroke, then, slashed squarely across my buttocks, quivering the flesh and doubtless raising the customary red stripes. The old fires were rekindled in my bottom and the pain seared through my nerves. Slowly, measuring each stroke, my tormentors worked the whippy cane over my bare bum-flesh. I absorbed each shock of impact, my breasts shuddering wildly under their onslaught. Five, six, seven strokes and my bottom was aflame. My teeth clenched my lower lip, I tasted salty blood. After ten strokes the cane changed hands and my nameless oppressor stood behind me. I heard the swish of wood through the air and again a fiery pain flashed across my buttocks. He laid on heavily, sweat broke on my brow. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen - the cruel cane struck again and again, biting my reddened and bruised flesh. At long last, nineteen, twenty! I was allowed to stand and comfort my sore bottom, and then through the pain came the now familiar glow of release! I felt incredibly randy and was ready and willing for either or both of my tormentors to ravish me on the spot - to tear away my immodest garments, to bend me yet again over the table and to cleave my hungry sex with their erect angry

maleness, to make my release totally complete!" My breasts were swollen, my nipples stiffened buds, ripe with passion, my sex was awash with my most intimate juices. If only, having brought me to the very edge of sexual release, they would complete the act and fuck me, then truly I would be said to have found a world of pleasure in pain. Never before have I felt so intensely randy, so alive to every sexual nuance of my body, as I am now when my bottom and thighs are burning from a vigorous beating. But no! My oppressors reserved this last punishment - worse than any inflicted by wood or leather - for me. I was to be denied release and fulfilment still. They commanded me to stand, hands on head, before them as they admired the red weals they had raised on my bottom. I stood thus for half an hour, frustrated, mortified and humiliated, until at last I was allowed to put down my aching arms. Eventually my feelings of randiness subsided, as gradually the pain in my buttocks abated. Later still I was sent to bed and, frustrated, chained and unable even to bring some small relief to my sexual urges I awaited the blessing of sleep. Even in slumber, however, I was tormented by intensely erotic dreams. In my dreams I was again secured to the bed, spread-eagled on the crumpled satin sheets. My bottom was again on fire from the vigorous strapping I had received, but through the pain the familiar glow of randiness invaded my pussy, the familiar warmth suffused my belly. My tormentors now stripped themselves, revealing their erect members, both huge and both rock hard and swollen. John's especially was much bigger in my dream than in actuality. How I ached for them. How I desired to feel each great engine invade my sex, to plough into my womanhood, to split me apart. I thirsted to be subjected, to be helpless and violated at their hands. As his nameless companion watched, idly toying with his swollen staff, my husband released my ankles, then climbed on the bed between my outspread legs. Roughly his hands ran over my aching bottom, squeezing the bumflesh, stinging me anew. I gasped with desire and anguish. Then he was parting my sex, his thick, hard rod cleaving the lips he lunged into me. Clasping me to him he began to fuck, his hands burrowing in my belly flesh, pinching handfuls of the softness. His tool filled me, threatened to burst me. I was as I desired, dominated, violated and helpless. Then he was coming, his tool throbbing in me, his seed flooding my sex. Roughly he withdrew and climbed off me, to be supplanted immediately by his companion. Again hard maleness invaded my sex. The Man's finger nails, long and sharp, scored the flesh of my back, leaving deep red tracks. His hands mauled my bottom, paining me as before. Then he was thrusting violently in and out of my aching sex, paying no attention to my pleasure, simply using my body for his own need. In spite of the pain, despite the roughness of the assault on my body - or maybe because of them - an as yet untapped spring of pleasure flowed up in me. My sex was liquid joy. As the hard flesh pistoned in my sex my climax approached, the sweet feelings welled up inside me, my bubble of pleasure was about to burst. Then he too was coming, filling me, then leaving me; deflated, left at the brink. I awoke crying with frustration at my dream, only to be faced with the frustration that was too real. So it was that as Helen came to reveal more of her feelings in these writings, becoming more frank as the days unfolded, we could discern her development under our schooling. In this way we charted her progress from a girl innocent of her innermost urges to the willing slave of her husband's desire, complete in her self-knowledge, embracing her subjection and kissing the very rod that smote her.

5: ATONEMENT So the pattern of Helen's daily regime became established. Every day some new trial or humiliation was visited on her in the cause of bringing her to an ultimate self-knowledge and

inducing her gladly to embrace the way of self-abasement and servitude. Although every day saw Helen punished or otherwise tormented we were careful not to establish any sort of routine which might bring to our victim some sense of security or comfort despite the duress under which she suffered. Instead we took care to vary both the nature, the time and the severity of all the experiences that Helen underwent. One day, for example, we might whip her, stark naked, straight after breakfast, then confine her to her room to nurse her stripes; at another time we might choose to cane her in the middle of the afternoon, simply turning up her skirts to reveal her bare rump and laying on with the cane. In general the punishments we inflicted were not harsh in the extreme, the marks usually disappearing in a day or so leaving the milky-white canvas of her skin clean for us to write a new and painful lesson upon. There were, however, certain times when it was required to inculcate a particularly serious lesson or to cause Helen to atone for her past misdeeds in a particularly memorable way. Then the punishment was most severe, but again, nothing we were not sure Helen could bear. We wished to challenge her, to extend her, not to ruin her. We were also careful to ensure that she was well nourished as well as well groomed. As I remarked cynically to my collaborator, it is only sensible to keep one's livestock and possessions well cared for. Although Helen was not allowed to eat with us, we followed the laudable custom of the Arab world. When we had eaten our fill - Helen waiting upon us - she would be allowed to make her meal from our ample leavings. At such times she was not allowed to sit but usually was permitted to kneel at our feet. Of course, not all the punishments we visited on our charming slave were wholly physical. We sought also to cause her some mental anguish from time to time, the better to upset her equanimity and open her to the new sensations to which we wished to introduce her. Already as a result it was becoming clear that she was drawing subtle pleasure from certain of the hardships we visited on her. One morning, for instance, some four or five weeks after I had arrived at John Marsh's estate and had begun Helen's training, we allowed the girl to get up and to bathe as usual. Then we led her, dressed in nothing but a cloud of Chanel, to the Blue Room. Helen had now visited this room several times, and as we entered it was clear that she harboured an expectation of suffering yet another physical torment. At the sight of the punishment bench and the whipping post, with both of which she had now become intimately acquainted, her lips trembled and an anguished look clouded her face. Her husband and I held her securely and drew her to a high-backed wooden chair, solidly built in roughhewn oak, and seated her in it. We secured her arms at the wrist by leather straps around the chair arm, and pinioned her ankles in a like manner using the chair legs. The collar which was now constantly about her neck we secured to a staple set in the solid back of the chair. Helen was thus constrained to sit bolt upright, the hard coarse material of her seat chafing her naked flesh, and virtually unable to move. We then placed a hood of black baize over her head, effectively blindfolding her. Then we went off to breakfast leaving her alone, her thoughts prey to the untold terrors of the punishment we might have in store for her, her limbs becoming increasingly discomfited by the chafing straps and her unnatural posture. After we had sated our hunger and lingered over coffee and toast we again mounted to the Blue Room to check on Helen's progress. She was still awake and in obvious discomfort, wriggling her bottom and flexing against her bonds to gain some small relief. I was struck by the sight of her heavy breasts, naked and undefended, and decided that I might pleasure myself with her delightful bubbies while adding to her torment. Soundlessly I positioned myself behind the seated girl and reached round to grasp a firm fruit in each hand. Helen started with surprise, letting out an involuntary yelp. I hefted the weighty gourds, one on each palm, enjoying their warmth, enjoying their mass. With flat palms I ran my hands over the silken yielding sacs of flesh. Then grasping again, one firm titty in each hand, I began gently to massage Helen's creamy bosom. I opened my fingers, allowing the engorging nipples to pop between my digits, then scissored my fingers, nipping the buds. Gradually I

increased my fingers' pressure on the ripe globes, kneading the flesh, mashing Helen's tit-mounds together. Helen was obviously becoming heated by this treatment and began to moan softly. I could imagine the womanhood nestling between her thighs becoming wet, ready to receive an erect male member. For a few more moments I toyed with Helen's sensitive breasts, teasing her nipples, sending giddy sensations coursing to her loins, roughly handling those tender marvels. Then, just as Helen began to moan with intensifying passion I released her bubs, leaving her at the brink. Her head drooped, her neck dragging at the collar. I stepped softly around the chair so that I could gaze upon Helen's passion-swollen breasts. The firm, creamy flesh jutted from her chest, rising and falling in time to her heavy breathing. I drew back my hand and with the full force of my open palm slapped first the right and then the left breast, quivering the heavy flesh and leaving a fierce red imprint. Helen yelled with pain and anguish as her titties shuddered under this unexpected punishment. I stole silently away. Still later John Marsh and I returned to witness the denouement of this little experiment in terror. By now the mingled frustration and terror engendered by her imagination had had ample time to work on her composure. Suddenly, unbidden, Helen began to speak, pleading with us to release her or begin her punishment, to please let her taste of the pain we planned for her, but above all to end this present torment. We listened to her babble on. Then she began to sob. At first gently, punctuating her pleadings, then uncontrollably, her body shuddering as floods of tears coursed down her cheeks. At this we released her and taking off the hood, restored her to light. Little by little she regained her composure, wiping away the tears. When she was fully recovered we allowed her to dress and then to resume her duties. All the while as she endured these various indignities at our hands it was becoming increasingly obvious that Helen was coming to realise and accept her innermost submissive urges. Now that we felt more certain of her positive response to our little programme of education, we dropped all pretence of coercion and placed her under restraint only when so doing would tend to heighten our pleasure, and hers for that matter. It is a fact that Helen could have ended her subjection at any time, but instead she tacitly chose to remain and play out her part. One evening, a day or so after the events I have just related, John Marsh and I received a signal proof that Helen was indeed deriving the highest pleasure from her subjugation. We had dined passably well and had enjoyed another bottle of my host's fine claret. Helen had been dressed in a woollen dress of elegant cut, which clung to her figure and heightened the allure of her body. The soft material hugged the womanly swell of her bosom and emphasised the arousing undulation of her ripe, rounded bottom. It is wonderful how, fully clothed in the right garments, a woman can prove more erotically exciting than if she were stark naked. My host drew up a leather-topped banquette before the fire, which now provided the only light in the room and cast a warm, comfortable glow over everything. At his command Helen readily stripped off her clothes, and naked but for her black stockings, lay or rather knelt over the bench to receive punishment. She reached forward clasping the edge of the banquette, pressing her body hard against the cold leather as she thrust the pale moons of her buttocks upwards for her husband's attention. John Marsh took up a light and very flexible leather paddle and began smartly to spank Helen's bottom. She, as ever, squealed and howled as the punishment progressed, wiggling her haunches under the assault while simultaneously grinding her belly and pubic regions against the edge of the bench. After several minutes of this treatment the cheeks of her arse had begun to colour up nicely. Her squeals too had now resolved into a deeper sound, more akin to the sounds made by a woman in the grip of sexual arousal than one in pain. John Marsh, however, seemed to tire of this sport and tossed the paddle to one side. He seemed on the point of commanding his victim to rise when Helen, raising

herself on one elbow and turning to him, spoke with a husky and passionate urgency: "No, no! Please don't stop now. I'm so close. Please carry on." Notwithstanding that this impassioned plea transgressed our rules, John Marsh at once took up the paddle and started again to belabour Helen's bottom and thighs. With a look of relief she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the perverse enjoyment of the intensely erotic sensations this treatment kindled in her loins. Soon she was grasping the bench tightly and keening as if in the throes of an intense climax. All at once she threw back her head and squealed, "Mmmmm! Yesss! Oooo yesss!" as her whole being shuddered with the force of her orgasm. My friend, despite his experience in these matters, was a little taken aback by the intensity of her reaction and put up the paddle. Helen turned again to look at him and spoke beseechingly: "Oh, please - please fuck me. Fuck me now." John Marsh glanced at me with a wry grin and said: "Every rule is made to be broken," and with deft hands he was soon out of his clothes and standing naked behind Helen's recumbent figure as she remained draped over the banquette. Indeed Helen's urgent plea brooked no refusal, and it would have been foolish to pass up this opportunity to demonstrate for her the intensity of pleasure to be derived from her submission. Easily and with a single thrust John Marsh entered her and impaled her on his rod, his rigid flesh slipping into her velvet darkness as if into melted butter. Helen was so hot that she came instantly as her husband's manhood lodged in her, closing her eyes tightly and uttering a low "Ooooh, mmm!" of bliss. John Marsh too was near his own climax and it wanted but a few strokes for his seed to boil forth. Quickly he withdrew from her and directed the jets of hot cream over his wife's crimson fesses, before spreading the goo over her globes. With a glance then he invited me to share in this delight. I was already naked in anticipation and it was the work of seconds to thrust myself into Helen's hot, wet cavern. Gripping her hips I fucked her urgently as the walls of her sex gripped me. Again she came, again groaning her delight. Then I too was spilling my seed inside her, filling her channel to overflowing. So for the first time, but not the last, Helen came to know the intensity of pleasure to be derived from chastisement. A little later John Marsh opined that he considered Helen might now be ready to undergo a severe trial again, in some small way to expiate the wrongs she had done him by her infidelities. I tended to hold the same view and so it was agreed. That morning, then, Helen was brought from her bed and given time to bathe, repair her makeup and to brush her long black hair. Thus prepared, absolutely naked, we brought her back into her bedchamber, where the prie-dieu had been prepared to receive her. This piece of furniture, designed as it was for penitents to kneel at prayer, admirably suited the present mood of atonement which we wished to promote. Helen was made to kneel and her wrists were tightly secured to the lectern portion of the prie-dieu by leather straps. Her body was thus held perfectly erect in a posture of supplication. Her straight back descended to the protruding mounds of her buttocks, supported in their turn by her taut thighs, and bending at the knee her lower legs stuck out in a perfect "L" shape. Her long, shining, ravenblack hair tumbled over her bare white shoulders, the room's subdued lighting imparting a blue sheen to this heavy curtain of hair. A copy of her confession was placed before the kneeling girl. We waited, enjoying the stillness of the room, letting Helen's apprehension build. At last my companion broke the silence:

"Helen, today you will undergo a severe punishment, in order in some small way to expiate the wrongs you have done me, all of which are set down in the document before you. You will read aloud from this document of infamy and you will be fittingly chastised. But first, answer me. Are you truly sorry for your misdeeds? Speak!" Very softly Helen responded, "Yes, I am most sincerely sorry. But I beg you to punish me as you see fit to wipe away my past errors." "Very prettily put, my dear," her husband responded. "Before we begin the punishment proper I think we should warm you a little." So saying he produced a long leather whip or goad, such as might be used in cattle or horse herding in Spain. It was about three feet in length, consisting of a single stiff thong, more like a leather cane than a true whip. Standing behind Helen and to one side, he drew back the instrument and lashed at Helen, striking her across the shoulders - 'craaak!' A dull red weal marked the point of impact, striping right across her shoulder blades. Helen squealed at the sudden impact and clenched her shoulders as though to shrug away the pain. John Marsh drew back and dealt her a second blow, lashing the whippy leather squarely across the meaty flesh of her buttocks, raising another red streak to besmirch the pale white flesh. Helen held herself tensed for the onslaught of blows, her buttocks tight clenched. Her tormentor, however, chose to toy with her. The third lash cut her across her fleshy upper thigh, again she squealed and tried to recoil. He let her settle and compose herself, waiting long-drawn-out seconds, enjoying the sight of the widely placed marks he had already raised on his wife's bare flesh. Then he struck again, crashing the goad over Helen's taut buttocks, the loud "craaak!" breaking the stillness of the room. Again he visited Helen's back, slashing a red trail across his first mark on her shoulders - then after a long pause fully to enjoy the look of pain now firmly set on Helen's face, he slashed at her back, placing his final stroke across the middle. Again she flinched in pain, shaking her head and whimpering slightly. Having slightly dulled his appetite for inflicting punishment on Helen's defenceless body, John Marsh laid aside the goad and sternly commanded his wife to begin reading over the portion of her confessions which he had selected. I, in the manner of an assistant at a conceit recital, stood by the prie-dieu and turned the pages for her. "I first met Mark," she began in a subdued and embarrassed tone, a light flush colouring her cheeks, "at the tennis club. We played a few games together, shared a drink afterwards, and of course I was attracted to him. "The first time with Mark was after the annual tennis club dance. Mark asked me to go with him and his party, and since John was away on business as usual - New York that time, I think - I was pleased to have the company. After all one can't sit at home every night! "After the dance Mark offered me a ride home which quite naturally I accepted. We drove along the dark country lanes, laughing and chatting until quite unexpectedly Mark turned the car off the road on to a sort of track which disappeared into the trees. We bounced along for a while until we came to an open field. We had been climbing for some while and had in fact come out on top of a hill .overlooking one of the surrounding villages. Of course, I did not protest at any of this - I certainly knew what Mark had on his mind, and to tell the truth I was only too willing. I had waited all evening to see Mark naked and to have his hands thrilling my body. This approach certainly was more exciting than the usual 'asking in for coffee' routine I had had in mind. "Mark turned off the engine, killing the car's headlights. We were enveloped in the darkness. He leaned across, putting an arm around me, his lips finding mine. His tongue probed between my lips, then we were locked mouth on mouth, tongues probing, tongues wetly sucking, in a deep, erotic French kiss. I felt his hand rucking up the long skirt of my dress, then his hands stroking along my stockinged legs until he found bare thighs where the sheer web of nylon ended. His hand explored further, finding my panty-clad pussy, kneading my mons through the lace material. "Our kiss broke and he began to nuzzle my neck, his lips and tongue teasing the erogenous nerves, sending little sexual thrills along my body. My hands too were busy pulling his shirt from his

trousers, loosening buttons and luxuriating in the thick mat of coarse hair that covered his upper body. On the way my hands encountered the satisfyingly hard bulge of his manhood still trapped in his clothing. "His hand was still busy around my nether regions, stroking the svelte skin between my now open thighs, tugging at my panties. Obligingly, I raised my bottom allowing him to drag the lace material over my buttocks, bunching the garment around my upper thighs. "I considered, amidst all this heated groping, that we had gone far enough in the space afforded by the car's interior. My dress was round my waist, my bunched panties restricted my movements and how to get his trousers off? I suggested we get out of the car; it was a warm night in the middle of summer and we were all alone. Mark nodded his agreement, got out of the car and busied himself laying a rug from the car on the grass. "While Mark was thus engaged I slid down the zipper at the back of my long gown and stepped out of the silky encumbrance. I also stepped out of my panties, dropping the lace scrap to the ground. Beneath the gown I was wearing a blue silk basque and matching stockings; these I left for Mark to enjoy himself removing. Meanwhile, Mark had been busy too and now stood completely naked by the rug. It was a moonlight night and I could see clearly his huge maleness, heavily erect, erupting from beneath his flat belly. "I went to him. He bent down, his mouth again covering mine, tongues sucking wetly. Reaching behind he cupped the firm roundness of my bare buttocks, kneading the smooth flesh as he drew me to him, pressing his male hardness between us. "Breaking the kiss, he drew me down beside him on the rug. In the bright moonlight I now examined his huge phallus, which lolled against his belly as he reclined on the rug. I grasped his hardness with both hands, and still the tip stood above my clenched fists. It was thick too - I shuddered pleasurably, imagining how this huge hard rod of flesh would soon be filling me up, thrusting into the wetness of my cunny. "I bent over the great fleshy plaything and began to lick the crown, laving it all over, running my tongue eagerly around the glans, probing the little eyehole at the very tip - covering it all over with my spittle. I opened my lips and engulfed the tip, feeling it twitch as I closed my mouth about the velvety flesh. I continued to suck and tongue the engorged titbit, chafing the glans between my teeth as Mark lay back enjoying my ministrations, his hands lazily caressing my buttocks and thighs. "I drew more and more of his magnificent hardness into my bulging mouth, until I thought my jaws would crack. Then I began to release the stem, bobbing my head to alternately release and engulf his throbbing rod - in and out, in and out, my mouth sucking hungrily. The delicious silken hardness slipped wetly back and forth between my lips. Mark's lazy caresses were now becoming more adventurous as his digits probed my pussy and searched the secret crevice between my bumcheeks. "At last I released his tool. Almost dripping with my saliva it glistened darkly in the moonlight. I turned my back on Mark, inviting him to release me from the rest of my clothes. Expertly, his hands worked at the catches of the basque, releasing my breasts and torso, then he drew the stockings down my legs, over my feet and threw them into the darkness. I was naked, the cool night air caressed my skin, deliciously, sensually. "I straddled Mark, dragging my ripe breasts over his coarse-haired chest, teasing my nipples, as his hands pleasured themselves with my nude flesh. Again I grasped his erect manhood and guided it to the mouth of my sex. Then gently, very gently, savouring every delicious sensation, I lowered myself on to the fleshy rod, feeling the head slip between my sex-lips, the crown forcing me apart, the broad stem stretching me. After what seemed a blissful eternity I was fully impaled on his member, my cunt walls squeezing his virile hardness. I inclined slightly to let him reach my dangling breasts, and he seized the ripe fruit, mashing the fleshy globes in his strong hands, sending heady sensations along my spine. "I began to ride him, working myself up and down on the hard, firm rod of flesh buried in my sex, my cunt muscles flexing, sucking the juices from him. I raked his hairy chest with my sharp nails, digging my carmine-tipped claws into his flesh in my ecstasy. I increased the pace of my

riding, up, down, up, down - he squeezed my titties hard, hard! Then I was coming - I squealed, scratching his chest, drawing blood. "Then he too was coming, his creamy seed erupting from him in a copious womb filling stream! "He released my poor manhandled titties and I climbed off his well-used manhood, which plopped from my sex, still semi-hard, coated with my juices and his heavenly spending. I bent my head and took his deflating maleness in my mouth, tasting its male saltiness, and greedily licked him clean." "Enough, for the moment," interrupted John Marsh. "Now we will try you with this!" and he produced a light whip made up of several leather thongs, each knotted at the end. This weapon, in skilful hands, would be capable of visiting prolonged torment on the body of a victim without drawing blood, or, at the operator's will, could be made to flay the flesh of its subject. Without further ado he lay on his wife's naked flesh with the whip, using measured strokes, punishing her hard and without mercy. With the first stroke the leather cords slashed across her tensed bottom, the whip clasping the flesh, the knots biting deep. Helen's face was a picture of misery mixed with anguish, and she groaned deeply. John Marsh concentrated on her buttocks, first striking the left cheek, then the right; the knotted leather thongs raising heavy red weals that soon covered every inch of Helen's quivering bumflesh. Then he turned his attention to Helen's back and shoulders. As the punishment progressed Helen slumped against the prie-dieu, virtually held erect by her bonds alone. Her eyes were now tight shut, screwed tight against the pain of the blows that fell regularly on her flesh, but also against the underlying hurt that seared her bottom. Her breath came in heavy pants drawn from deep within her. At every blow she cried out. Eventually, Helen's back matched her reddened bottom, her whole flesh now a fiery mass of hurt. Then we let her rest, giving her a little brandy to recover her spirits. Soon, despite the underlying throbbing in her back and bottom, she began to revive, her breathing calmed and she opened her eyes. They shone with erotic excitement. Her face was flushed. The heavy pods of her breasts, swollen with lust, rose and fell in time with her breathing. It seemed that even a punishment as heavy as this was capable of raising her to heights of sexual ecstasy which transcended the pain. We, too, refreshed ourselves at this point, and in fact left Helen chained to the prie-dieu while we consumed a light lunch. After about an hour we were ready to begin again. Now the deep ridges the whip had raised on Helen's back and buttocks had taken on a purple hue, standing out from the deep red of the rest of her tortured flesh. We again turned Helen's attention to her confession and directed her to take up where she had left off in her narrative. In a faltering voice, which soon picked up momentum as she warmed to her story, she began: "We lay for some time together on the rug, under the stars, recovering our energies and exploring each other's bodies languidly. I was, of course, fascinated by Mark's huge phallus which now nestled at his crotch, deflated and at rest. As we kissed and held each other I felt his scrotum, weighing the heavy balls in my palm and toying with the fleshy tube of his manhood. "Meanwhile Mark busied himself at my breasts, his open mouth at the fleshy globes, his teeth worrying gobbets of breastflesh and teasing the stiffly erect nipples. Using each breast in turn he drew a stiff nipple deep into his mouth, running his tongue over the sensitive nub, sending heady sensations to my loins - then releasing the excited flesh with a parting nip from his sharp teeth. "Leaving my breast his tongue descended, adoring my soft, bare skin, his tongue rasping over my belly, lips and teeth teasing the flesh. His tongue probed at my navel then continued downward to my Mount of Venus. Finally, he buried his face in the musky smelling thatch that adorned my mons. "I opened my legs, urging him to probe my sex with his joyous tongue, to lave my clitoris - to lick me to bliss. His head drew back, I felt his warm breath between my thighs. Then his fingers were probing at my sex lips, pulling them apart, opening me wide. His face was pressed hard against my

sex, his tongue probing deep into my earthy-odoured cunt. "I revelled in the sensations, grasping and squeezing my own titties in my delight. His tongue worked in me, lapping up my juices. Then the pink snake found and coiled around my erect clitoris. Mark licked the little nodule firmly, setting off explosions in me, his tongue toying vigorously with the little bundle of sensitive nerve endings until suddenly I was coming and coming as wave after wave of delicious climaxes broke over me. I squealed, my bottom squirmed on the rug as his lovely tongue rasped over my bud. At last it was finished and I lay panting, looking up at the stars. Mark bent over me his face covered in my musky juices and kissed me open-mouthed, letting me taste my own sextaste. "I could see that Mark was again completely erect, his huge manhood standing out from his pubic nest, swinging gently from side to side as he stood above me. He reached down and pulled me to my feet. Taking the rug he placed it over the bonnet of the car, then he picked me up and lay me on it. "I lay back, my legs dangling over the front of the car. Mark got between my legs, presenting his hard manhood to my wet and ready pussy-hole. He grasped me and pulled me strongly on to his erection until he was firmly embedded in me. I wrapped my legs tightly around him and he began to fuck me hard, his huge erection smashing in and out of my sopping hole, threatening to tear me apart. My breasts bounced about on my ribcage with the violence of his thrusting. Mark grabbed handfuls of my breastflesh squeezing hard as he levered himself in and out of my cunt. "He released my breasts, then with a grunted command, had me put my legs up over his shoulders. He continued to fuck me, burying himself as deeply as possible in me, pressing down on my uplifted legs, my cunt wide open to receive him as climax after climax broke over me. Then he too was coming, his plenteous seed spurting inside me, filling me to overflowing. At the last he released my legs and withdrew his still pulsing rod from within me and sent a last jet of his hot creamy spend lancing on to my belly. I reached down and caught some on my forefinger and placed the delicious creamy concoction in my mouth, tasting his saltiness." John Marsh silenced the narrative again with "Enough!" and handing me the whip, encouraged me to lay on hard and to complete his wife's punishment. I lashed her buttocks, the knotted thongs clasping the cheeks in a stinging embrace. Helen groaned through tightly clenched teeth and grasped the prie-dieu firmly. Her story, though, had again kindled her excitement and the noises she made were a mixture of pained squeals and the moans of erotic bliss. I concentrated my efforts on her bottom, steadily punishing the quivering flesh, aggravating the ridges that already stood out on Helen's bum-cheeks from her earlier trials. I left off my assault on her hind quarters then and began to punish her back and shoulders. Her eyes were again tightly shut and her teeth clenched against the pain, while her head slumped forward over the lectern top of the prie-dieu. I could see that Helen was near to exhaustion and that further punishment would be both harmful and unproductive. I laid the whip aside and assisted her husband to release our victim and to lay her on the bed. There we let her sob, deep sighs wracking her frame, until she had regained her composure a little. We again gave her brandy to revive her spirits, and applied a soothing, antiseptic ointment to her flesh. Helen, in her turn, when once she had recovered a little thanked us in a charming and subdued manner for her just punishment - intimating that she fully realised that she deserved to be tested so harshly and was thankful for our kindness. The expression on her lovely face complemented the sincerity of her speech, convincing us that she truly meant what she said. We, for our part, were pleased by the brave manner in which she had borne her torments. We let her sleep the rest of the day away and gradually, over the next few days, her bruises healed and she regained her strength.

6: TO THE WOODS Some weeks had now passed since the beginning of Helen's training in the ways of obedience. During this time she had been confined to the house and gardens, carrying out her menial duties and receiving such correction as her husband John Marsh or myself devised. It now became clear both from her general demeanour while about her duties and also while under punishment, as well as from the revelations of her written journal, that our young victim was becoming increasingly pliant to our will and was entering into the spirit of obedience and total submission that we wished to develop in her. Moreover she now regularly and as a matter of course achieved sexual climax while being subjected to punishment and seemed to revel in the humiliations we devised for her. She now always carried herself with head slightly bowed and eyes downcast, avoiding direct contact with our eyes. She bent willingly to receive whatever chastisement was to be inflicted on her, whether cane, tawse or leather strap, without demur. Increasingly it became unnecessary to place her under restraint except to receive the severest test or to increase our own pleasure in the domination of such a delectable victim. Similarly, she now bore such punishment in stoical silence. Finally she now committed to paper her thoughts and feelings, unreservedly and with great honesty, just as we had stipulated at the start of her ordeal. Accordingly, we decided that our young charge could only benefit from some fresh air and some healthy, vigorous exercise. So it was that we determined to enlarge the canvas of her experience by allowing her to walk in the grounds of the house and to the woodlands which lay beyond. Naturally, she would be closely supervised, being accompanied and directed by one or both of us. Of course such an outing would not be an occasion for mere pleasure or idleness. Rather we now planned to use the opportunity to instruct Helen in the crafts of gathering and preparing the materials necessary for fashioning certain implements of correction to be used on her own person. I refer to the noble birch! The birch is possibly the most intimate of the various tools of punishment available to the strict disciplinarian. The birch in use expends itself on the flesh of the subject, splintering and combining with the blood and flesh it loosens from the back and fesses of the victim. This intimacy is especially enhanced when the birch is prepared by the hand of the eventual victim, which act engenders a most delightful air of complicity to the act of correction. The birch is versatile also, since the component switches may at choice be assembled into lighter or heavier versions of the same basic instrument, the one capable of delivering prolonged torment without breaking the skin, while the latter may be used to inflict greater damage on the person of the victim. We thus agreed that I should accompany Helen to the woods and instruct her, John Marsh being absent about his business affairs in London. Spring was by now well advanced. We strode across the dew-dampened lawns that surrounded my host's spacious house and on through the extensive ornamental gardens. A warming sun was at our backs, the chills of winter being now quite forgotten. As was our invariable practice we had selected Helen's clothing, choosing a tweed jacket and long tweed skirt, proof against the thorns and nettles to be encountered during her labours that day. She was shod in calf-length boots against the muddy conditions underfoot. Naturally, she wore no undergarments, leaving her bottom and legs bare. We walked quickly on through the gardens, reaching the high perimeter wall which shut the house off from the prying gaze of strangers. We let ourselves out through a heavy iron gate which was here let into the wall and entered a narrow lane. We crossed this straight and overgrown thoroughfare and were about to enter the woods. Just then a couple - a man and a woman exercising a large alsatian dog - rounded a bend in the lane. They hailed Helen by name from a distance, and were apparently well known to her. I was most gratified to find that Helen had now learned such obedience that her natural inclination to return this greeting was stayed. With a questioning glance she first sought my consent to respond. With a nod of the head I assented. We exchanged pleasantries with the couple who were neighbours of John Marsh and Helen. Helen introduced me as a close business friend of her husband, here on an extended visit, and made

other remarks in explanation of her very long absence from the local social scene. Thus again Helen's growing complicity in her own subjugation was amply evidenced. A few more words of parting sufficed to conclude this impromptu test of the efficacy of Helen's training so far. We left the couple and plunged into the woods about our business and were soon lost to prying eyes. For quite an hour we beat about the woods in search of suitable materials. At last we came to a clearing furnished with a stand of young birch which promised to yield supple switches of an excellent quality. Helen had carried with her suitable tools, and now under my direction set to work to harvest the materials we required. The sun dappled down through the trees adding to the serenity of the scene. Helen bent over in the heart of the bushes wielding a bill-hook in accordance with my instructions, a light sweat breaking out on her brow with the vigour of her labour. At last, after about an hour of heavy work, Helen had amassed an adequate pile of switches for our present purpose. She emerged from the bushes flushed and breathless with her efforts and very hot. I thought then that we had laboured sufficiently and that I at least had earned some diversion. "Now Helen," I remarked, "that was certainly warm work and you shall have an opportunity to cool off. You will remove your skirt and your jacket!" Obediently, Helen's hand went to the waistband of the heavy tweed skirt and released the buttons and lowered the zip. She sloughed the garment down her bare legs and stepped out of it. She removed the jacket and folding both garments neatly, placed them over a handy tree stump. She was now dressed only in a light sweater which reached to just above the flare of her hips, leaving her tempting bottom and well-turned legs naked to my view. I directed her to bend over a fallen tree, her head cradled in her arms, the pale roundness of her bumcheeks uplifted to the sky, the smooth columns of her bare thighs held taut, her calves sheathed in the black leather boots. I placed her legs slightly apart, thus relaxing her buttock muscles and slightly parting her bum-cleft. I then allowed myself the luxury of exploring the suave flesh of her buttocks and upper thighs, kneading the luscious roundness of her great muscle in a leisured manner. Firmly, I spread apart her bum-cheeks to reveal the puckered hole of her anus. Pausing to lubricate my forefinger with spittle, I began to tease the sensitive hole, working my finger along the bum-crevice and returning to the tight and crinkled opening. Then gradually, little by little, I introduced my digit into the wonderful tightness of Helen's bumhole. Helen, under these ministrations, began to wriggle her hips and to utter little moaning cries. Thus I toyed with Helen's person, there in the quiet glade, the silence punctuated by the lustful groans of my fair companion as my finger violated her anal cavity, she thrusting back against my hand deepening the contact. At last, satisfied with this sport I withdrew my hand and stood back. I had brought with me a pair of heavy leather gloves; I now put these on. Stepping behind the still inverted Helen I applied my leather-clad hand to her rump for a vigorous spanking. The silence of the wood was again interrupted, this time by the 'Thwaak, thwaack, thwaaak' of leather against flesh. Helen bore the punishment in silence, her body jerking under the weight of each blow. With a regular beat my hand smacked her bum-cheeks, quivering the plump flesh. After some minutes of this treatment her fesses were well reddened, my stinging hand having covered every inch of her meaty bottom from waist to thigh. It was I, now, who was becoming heated from exertion. I permitted Helen to rise and had her stand, hands on head, to display her glowing posterior in the classic posture of humiliation. As she rose, she uttered a soft "Thank you sir," as she was permitted (indeed enjoined) to do. We had brought with us certain refreshments: a good claret, some excellent brie and crusty bread - a simple but satisfying lunch after such strenuous efforts. I now partook of this meal while enjoying the sight of Helen's bare and ruddy haunches displayed before me in the sun-dappled silence of the clearing.

Having refreshed myself adequately, I then permitted Helen to kneel bare-legged and bare-arsed on the grass and to help herself to what was left of the foodstuffs. I then directed her to dress herself and to gather up the tools and the birch switches and to follow me back to the house. Among the various outbuildings with which my host's Tudor house was provided was a stableblock. Before the commencement of Helen's schooling, a pair of horses had been stabled here and a groom/handyman employed to look to their care. The groom had been dismissed and the horses boarded out at a nearby farm, thus leaving the building unoccupied and now admirably suited for .the next phase of Helen's education. We carried the birch twigs to the stable, which was equipped with running water and a large horse-trough which we would use in the preparation of the materials we had gathered. It was here that I instructed Helen in the processes of stripping, sterilisation and salting of the birch switches. The horse trough made an excellent brine tank in which to cure our materials thoroughly. A few days later, the birch branches being ready, I instructed Helen in the craft of selecting suitable wands, of bundling them together and of creating a handle by use of whipping cords. In all these operations Helen proved a most apt and indeed avid pupil. By the end of our labours we had produced some six instruments of correction - two light ticklers and four of a more weighty construction. This total I considered to be ample for our present needs. By this time John Marsh had returned from his business in London and was delighted with the fruits of our labours and to learn that his wife had proved to be such an excellent pupil. We now discussed what was to be the most fitting site and pretext for Helen's introduction to the rigours of the birch as an instrument of correction. After some little, and I may say stimulating, discussion we concluded that the stable mentioned before would prove both spacious enough and would also provide a pleasing and possibly ironic context for the infliction of such punishment. It appears from her confessions, that Helen had been in the habit of riding in the mornings, being accompanied from time to time by the groom mentioned earlier. It was equally her habit after riding to make love, either in the stable itself or in the marital bed with the same groom. As my companion put it, 'we should seek to make the punishment fit the crime'. So we were agreed and it needed but little time to put our proposal into execution. Thus it was that the next day found us gathered in the now empty and silent stable. Helen stood before us in what had now become her usual attitude of contrition, head bowed and hands clasped behind her back. John Marsh and I seated ourselves on some handy straw bales. My collaborator addressed his wife: "Helen, you have spent the last few days learning to fashion instruments for your own correction. My friend and I now propose to make a trial of your handiwork. "We have brought you here because this punishment is intended in some small measure to expiate the infidelities you practised in this stable with Charles our groom. I have here your written confession which you made prior to engaging yourself to your present state of submission. You will now read that part of your confession which refers to these events." Helen took the proffered document and in a soft, tremulous voice began to read: "It had become my habit after breakfast on most mornings to take my horse for a gallop in the lanes and meadows adjoining the house. From time to time I would be accompanied by Charles, the groom employed to care for our two horses (my own and John's). He would exercise my husband's horse since John could not usually find the time for such pursuits. "Riding is an exercise calculated to make one exceedingly randy and I invariably returned from these outings in a heated condition. "I must admit that it was I who first seduced Charles. He was a young well-built fellow, a real outdoor type, and I had often speculated on what his workaday clothing concealed. We had just returned from our daily ride and had unsaddled and stabled the horses. The proximity of steaming horseflesh and the closeness of Charles's hard, spare body, only served to increase the intensely randy feelings brought on by our ride.

"I asked Charles to help me off with my boots. He straddled my legs presenting me with a view of his compact rear-end clad in riding breeches, and tugged the leather sheaths from my calves. As he rose from this task I quickly removed my hacking jacket and had my blouse unbuttoned so that when he turned he was presented with the sight of my naked breasts, the swollen creamy globes capped with lust-engorged nipples standing out like india-rubbers. "He did not need further explanation or persuasion. He pushed my open blouse off my shoulders, pinioning my arms, making me thrust my titties forward. He grasped my bosoms, kneading the fleshy mounds, luxuriating in their swollen heaviness, teasing the erect nipples and sending sexy thrills down my spine. He dragged the blouse from the waistband of my breeches and tore it from my body tossing the garment aside. Quickly he helped me to strip off my breeches and remaining underwear so that in no time I was completely naked, standing there in the stable. My eager hands performed a similar office for him and soon his lovely naked male hardness bore me to the ground among the hay. I urged him to mount me; I was soaking wet with my cunt juices and was more than ready to receive him. He too was showing every sign of an urgent need to fuck. He opened my thighs and drove his rigid organ deep into my sex. He thrust at me for what seemed a heavenly age, I came blissfully and then felt his seed spend deep inside me, his manhood pulsing strongly as his cream jetted from him, filling me up! "My first urgent need being thus sated we explored and enjoyed each other at leisure as we rolled around in the straw, naked limbs entwined, naked flesh on naked flesh. I ran my hands over his smooth body, cupping his taut bum-cheeks, then toyed with his delightful manhood, which was soon healthily aroused again. We kissed deeply, tongues sucking. Then his lips were worshipping my nude flesh, bringing me to a pitch of readiness. "Charles broke our embrace as we rolled in the straw, and rising seated himself on a straw bale, his erection pointing skyward, jutting stiffly from his belly. I didn't need him to tell me what he wanted. I stood and with my back to him, affording him a perfect view of my bum, straddled his legs, opening my cunt to receive him. "As I stood there, crouched over his maleness, waiting for him to embed his meat in my gaping sex, Charles reached between my legs and plunged his fingers into my streaming pussy, working his whole hand in me. Then as I was about to come, Charles held his hardness ready and drew my body on to his sex pole, the delightful manliness impaling me. Then levering myself on my thighs I fucked up and down, giving myself an orgasm as I rode his hardness to bliss. Charles reached round me and grasped my titties, squeezing the sensitive flesh, smearing them with my own musky spending. Then he too was coming again, flooding my inside with his cream. "This became the habitual ending for any such riding expedition on which Charles accompanied me. We enjoyed each other many times in the stable and later on in our marital bed." Thus ended Helen's narrative. Head bowed and a slight flush - of shame? Arousal? - about her cheeks, she handed the papers back to her husband. "Helen," John Marsh resumed, "we have now heard in your own words the full detail of your crime. You will make ready to receive your just punishment. Remove your clothes and kneel." Here he indicated some straw bales which we had placed for the purpose by the now empty horse-stall. Without question or hesitation, in fact with every indication of willingness, Helen removed her dress and bra and stood clad only in her stockings and high-heeled shoes. "We will have you naked," her husband commanded, "naked as you were when you rutted with your lover here in this stable!" And thus obedient to his command Helen stripped off her remaining clothing and palely nude, arranged herself in the required posture, presenting her defenceless back and bottom ready to receive correction. I chose one of the 'tickler' birches we had prepared, a light, whippy instrument made up of no more than four birch switches. A device calculated to tease, to redden but not to draw blood, and thus an instrument to prolong the punishment of our victim. I laid the birch across the mound of the kneeling girl's buttocks, judging the appropriate distance. I drew back, the lightweight bundle of birch wood sighed through the air and "Whaaaack!" crashed onto the fleshy fullness of Helen's upturned

posteriors. Her even white teeth bit into her lower lip, her hands clawed little bundles of straw from the bale. A single wide red streak decorated her rump. Again I drew back, wood cleaved the air and "thwaaak!" A second blow connected with Helen's quivering flesh; the taut buttock muscles relaxed and contracted, clenching her bottom involuntarily. Still Helen bore the pain in silence, her eyes tightly shut. I laid on with a will, punishing her whole rear end - three, four, five, six strokes, each raising a reddened weal on her bum flesh which ultimately coalesced into one glowing, pain-seared crimson. Her bottom was now held slack, offering no resistance to the bite of the birch. I lowered my area of operation and began to punish her upper thighs. Now at last the sting of wood on naked flesh caused Helen to give voice. At each stroke, at first a low whimper, and then later a full-throated gasp of pain escaped her lips. The lightweight birch was now beginning to break up, small splinters littered the floor of the stable. After one last stroke some splinters remained adhering to the flesh of Helen's increasingly inflamed bum-cheeks, leaving the useless stem in my grasp. I stood to one side and John Marsh who had until now quietly enjoyed the spectacle of his wife's suffering under my hand, now armed himself with the second of the light ticklers. He, raising his aim, began to belabour Helen's back and shoulders, raising reddening stripes between her shoulder blades down to the flare of her hips. With each stroke Helen squirmed and wriggled her upper body, her bosom rasping on the coarse straw. At each stroke she groaned deeply. When at last the second birch had been destroyed on Helen's yielding flesh and her whole back from shoulders to thighs was one glowing mass, we rested. Once again we were delighted to see that this gorgeous young woman was exhibiting every sign of intense sexual arousal. Her breasts were swollen, the teats rigid and tumescent. I passed a hand between her thighs and felt her sex-lips liberally smeared with her love juices. We now proposed after allowing the girl a short respite to bring into play the heavier instruments on Helen's person. I opined to John Marsh that, although Helen had borne up bravely under the punishment so far not seeking to rise or escape the well-aimed blows, merely, as I have recorded, giving voice - that the increased severity of the punishment would call for her to be placed under restraint. My friend readily agreed and we therefore secured Helen's wrists by means of a chain passed through a staple in one of the corner posts of the horse-stall. Thus Helen retained her kneeling posture on the hay bales but was restrained from flight. We gave her a drink of cold water and wiped the sweat from her face. We warned her to remain steady under this the climax of her ordeal. "We have warmed you well," John Marsh remarked. "I hope you are feeling thoroughly chastised?" "Oh, yes," replied Helen, "your birching searches me to the core! My poor bottom stings so. And my back!" she added piteously. Tenderly then her husband stroked the shining mane of her hair, drawing a few tendrils from her sweat-soaked forehead. His expression, remarkably for one engaged in exacting a vengeful punishment, was loving and gentle. In a soft voice he continued: "Well, prepare yourself for worse to come! However, remain steady, we shall not test you beyond endurance. You may be surprised, though, by the extent of that endurance. Courage now!" I then armed myself with one of the heavier birches and again made play with Helen's flesh. Each stroke was now heavier, the buds and splintering wood biting deep into the heavy globes of her fesses raising purple weals. At each stroke Helen jerked against her restraint, groaning under the sharp pain. Her breath now

came in heavy pants from deep within her. I yielded my place to John Marsh who plied the rods of punishment over Helen's back, raising stripes across the whole area. At last the birch was destroyed and a small pile of splinters littered the floor in witness to our exertions. Helen had, we agreed, received a sufficient punishment and should now be left to contemplate her punishment and to nurse her wounds. First, though, we applied an antiseptic salve to the young woman's stripes. We released her and helped her to clothe herself. Thus restored, she again faced us and in her habitual soft voice thanked us for her punishment, expressing her contrition very prettily. John Marsh directed as a final expiatory act and to increase her humiliation, that Helen should now spend the night confined in the stable, sleeping on the straw, the better to contemplate her misdeeds and to reflect on her punishment. Accordingly we tethered her, using a leather leash fixed to her collar, in one of the empty stalls, leaving her to pass the night on a bed of straw. When, on the following morning we released her, the care and cleaning of the stables against the return of the horses from their temporary stabling was added to the domestic duties which formed Helen's daily round, as we shall see. That night, however, we drank off a couple of bottles of fine champagne in celebration of a most satisfactory episode in Helen's education. Once more she had bravely borne her punishment and shown herself contrite and tractable. Once more we had seen that such punishment was capable of bringing her sexual fulfilment and had seen clear evidence that Helen recognised and accepted this aspect of her inner make-up.

7: HELEN'S LABOURS A few days later Helen was none the worse for her experiences at our hands in the stable. The vivid marks left by the birch on her creamy skin had quickly begun to heal and to disappear. She was of course much chastened by her experience and her humiliating treatment had gone a long way towards expiating her guilt for her sins of infidelity. Moreover the whole experience in the stable had suggested to her husband and myself several other opportunities for Helen's employment and for her further humiliation. We were conscious, in the first place, that Helen's confinement to the house and restriction to a series of not very taxing duties was not an especially healthy regime. Before the start of her training she had pursued a very active, outdoor life, riding, hunting, playing tennis and so on. I have already expounded at length on Helen's deliciously well-fleshed body; such a figure demands healthy exercise to maintain its firmness and the suppleness of the muscles. John Marsh and I were therefore keen to incorporate such healthful exercises into Helen's routine. Of course, Helen was made to use the gymnasium and swimming pool under our direction, but somehow the stables seemed to offer a more diverting solution. The precipitate dismissal of Charles, the groom-cum-handyman, when John Marsh discovered Helen's liaison with him, had left the stables in a very dirty and uncared-for condition. The stalls which accommodated the two horses, which had been boarded out after Charles's departure, had not been cleaned out. Fouled straw was strewn all about, old feed sacks lay on the floor and various items of saddlery and leather tack were in disorder. Since it was John Marsh's plan eventually to bring back the horses from the local farm where they were now boarded out, it would be necessary to set things to rights in the stable. Such a taxing occupation, calling for much toil and sweat, was very obviously just the job needed to exercise Helen and to keep her occupied. The care and cleaning of the stables thus became her prime duty during that warm spring time. She was set to work naked, both for our pleasure and for sheer practicality, as will be seen. Both John Marsh and myself took turns to supervise her, encouraging her efforts with an occasional cut of the whip or slash of a leather strap across her bare thighs should her attention or application flag. Her shoulder-length hair tied back in a girlish ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, Helen went at her task

with a will, clearing the piles of filthy straw, removing cobwebs and rearranging saddles, harness and other leather accoutrements of the horses in their proper places. The atmosphere in the stable was very warm and humid. As she worked Helen sweated copiously; not only was her face flushed and bathed in sweat, but rivulets of salty perspiration also trickled down her back and legs. Her whole skin shone with sweat. Her work also raised a great cloud of dust and chaff and this, glued by her sweat, clung to her skin like an itchy blanket. Watching Helen at work rewarded my host and myself with a chance to appreciate Helen's undoubted physical beauties from a new and satisfying perspective. Normally the nude female is viewed by the male onlooker in a relaxed and often reclining posture, the muscles relaxed and often an air of sleepy or satisfied languor pervading all. Just think of any nude by Rubens, anything by Goya: the examples are endless. As Helen threw herself vigorously into her tasks, working hard at the heavy labour, we were afforded a delicious sight of her calves and strongly thewed thighs in tension, the muscles bulging with effort. We savoured, likewise, the play of her back muscles, rippling and flexing under her sweat-soaked skin as she strained with the heavy work. Indeed, to watch a naked female of Helen's proportions at labour added a new dimension to our concept of female beauty. So, for several days Helen laboured on at her Herculean task. She shifted the dirty straw from the stalls. She cleaned out the horse-troughs and mangers. She manhandled bales of hay into place, her muscles straining under the weight. As a final indignity we made her scrub the stone floor. On her hands and knees, her delicate flesh chafed and torn by the harsh flagstones, bottom in the air, using bucket after bucket of stonecold water, she scrubbed. Her husband or I stood close over her, lashing her bottom from time to time to keep her bent to her task. My companion was most assiduous at this duty, lashing his wife's upturned buttocks vigorously with his leather strap, turning her bum cheeks bright red while poor Helen had to scrub and cope with the pain in her stinging fesses. Then we set her to clean all the brass and leather until it sparkled and the stable reeked with the smell of polish. Finally, after many indignities, her bottom sore and smarting, she was finished and the stable was set to rights. Each day we made Helen labour at these tasks for maybe some four or five hours, By the time she had finished the daily chore she was of course in a filthy state. Her hair was matted and clung to her head. Likewise her bare skin was covered in a fine film of dust and sweat and other less savoury items which mingled with the honest dirt. So we had to get her clean. The stable yard had a piped-water supply drawn from tanks deep below ground; the water was always icy cold. First we filled three or four buckets and poured an icy flood over the poor naked girl as she spluttered and shivered standing in the yard, just to cool her off and to remove the worst of the filth and grime. Then we used a hose as an impromptu shower, playing the jet of water over her body as she scrubbed herself clean. By the time we had finished with her she was soaking wet, shivering, almost blue with cold and covered in goose-flesh, her nipples puckered with the chill. So then we needed to warm her up and dry her off. What better than a run in the warm spring sunshine? We had had made a halter and bridle which fitted over Helen's head, complete with a metal bit for the mouth so we could control her. We strapped this on to our victim, attached a long pair of leather reins and thus we were ready to exercise her, just as one would exercise a young colt in the training yard. We led her on to the wide lawn before the house and there, controlling her with the reins, urging her on with a driving whip, we made her run or rather put her through a series of paces. We started her off at a brisk walk, then we progressed to a high stepping trot, her back straight, head thrown back. A lash across her bottom or legs ensured that she always lifted her legs to the required height. Then, when she was thoroughly warmed we progressed to a canter and thence to a run. If she flagged, a flick of the whip roused her. Sometimes we would have her change direction, hauling on the reins and working the metal bit in her mouth. Sometimes we reined her in completely, bringing her to a halt. Her skin soon dried and she shivered no more; indeed sweat very soon broke out on her brow and shone on her flanks. From time to time we let her rest a little to prolong our sport. She stood bent

over, panting heavily, face flushed. Then it was on with the chase, bosom bouncing on her ribcage, until nearing exhaustion we let her slump to the ground. Spring of that year was blessed with several weeks of very dry and quite unseasonably warm weather. We were thus able to exercise Helen in this way for many days on end under a clear blue sky. On one such occasion, when my friend was absent on business, I decided that engaging Helen in a little frank conversation, giving our young slave full permission to speak openly, would assist in her development along the desired lines and would aid her enlightenment. As usual I had run her nearly to the point of exhaustion. When at last I permitted her to stop she slumped, panting, on to the grass, her chest heaving as she gulped great breaths into her lungs, her skin flushed and covered in a film of sweat. I released her from the bridle, casually tossing the assembly of metal and leather straps to one side. I sat on a bench beside her reclining form. As she came more to herself, her breathing under control, I spoke to her: "Your master and I are gratified with the progress you are making under our supervision. Tell me how you feel. You may speak openly, indeed you are commanded to hold nothing back." Helen had, of course, become quite unaccustomed to such converse and thought deeply before she replied: "I am happy that John is pleased with me. I have learned some surprising things about myself under your guidance . . "Really? Do go on." I urged. "Well, first of all you ought to know that I really love John and have done since we were married. No, maybe love is the wrong word, perhaps worship or adore is better! Anyway it wasn't just his money that made me marry him or indeed that has made me stay with him. Even under this treatment to which I am subjected. "I found - find - him a very attractive man. He is very worldly, very cultured, very knowledgable. All the attributes that make an older man so much more satisfying to a young woman - to this young woman anyway - over younger less experienced men. Then he has such an air of authority, of sheer power. "That I think is the first, most surprising thing I have learned. I am attracted to his power, to his dominance and above all I want - need - that power to be exercised over me! I revel in serving him, in pleasing him, even if some of the things he washes me to do humiliate me or are very physically taxing." "Or give you pain?" I prompted. "Oh yes, the punishments! Of course I don't exactly enjoy the actual pain - but that is rather a means to an end. The anticipation of punishment gives me a lovely 'butterflies-in-the-tummy' feeling that's quite heady. Then, after, when the first stinging passes there's a lovely pain-tinged sweet-sour tingling glow that's totally sexual. "Then again, it's another means of John dominating me, of showing mastery over me and for me to pleasure him. I especially love it when I am helpless and completely restrained. I know also that I deserve the punishment I receive. I have betrayed John despite all his goodness to me and I am very, very sorry. I am grateful to have an opportunity to wipe away my guilt and to make amends to him. So the pain makes me feel better about myself. "That, of course, is another strange thing I have learnt. There were many times, even from the beginning, when I could have walked away from the trials or as you put it, the training, you have subjected me to. But the thought never entered my head. In fact I was strangely attracted to the experience, enjoying it almost - waiting to see what new pain or humiliation you devise for me and then seeing how gladly I submit." "You realise that the regime to which you are now made to submit is but a novitiate," I interrupted. "Our endeavour here is to bring you to the state of self-knowledge you have described and to make you ready to live in society as John's slave."

"Oh, I think I see!" she exclaimed, "I shall be like O and John will be my Sir Stephen." "Yes, quite so," I agreed. "And beyond this novitiate many new experiences will await you, which you will embrace joyfully thanks to your new knowledge of yourself." "Will John mark me, as Sir Stephen did to O?" Helen questioned with a shudder. "Certainly," I agreed. "Will he give me to other men to be used for their pleasure?" "Assuredly. And you will give yourself, for that will also be for his pleasure." "Yes, I see. I have often thought that his extreme displeasure at my unfaithfulness was not because of the acts I indulged in but rather that I deceived him, hid them from him, did not share them with him." "I believe you are correct. Now, of course, there will be no secrets and all can be open between you." "I remember that I always felt so guilty after being with one of my lovers. But then John was away so much - and I do still have my needs! It's funny, I often felt that his participation could have enriched many of those experiences. Then there need have been no guilt - just perhaps a very sore bum!" I suppressed a grin at this light irony and probed a little. "You seem as if you have one such experience in mind. Tell me about it." "Yes, you're right. As you say, nothing should be hidden, and it's not as if I can hide anything from you. Here I am, sitting naked at your feet and you have already inspected me and used me quite intimately. So here goes! "You know all about Mark. Well, one evening we went out, just for a drink, and one of his friends, Piers, was with us. Now for some time Mark had been at me to fuck with another man while he was present, or to take part in a threesome. I hadn't objected, it's just that Mark had never produced the required third man. "Anyway, while Piers was away at the bar, Mark announced that Piers was indeed to be the third partner in our sex triangle. I didn't mind - Piers looked attractive and anyway my relationship with Mark was just for fun, nothing deep or heavy. "Well, we finished our drinks pretty quickly after that and I brought the two boys (young men if you like) back here to the house. I suppose even then I was angling to get caught out, have John find out and punish me. There was certainly a risk of being seen by the servants and of tittle-tattle getting back to my husband, if nothing else. "Mark made some drinks and we settled down, Piers and Mark on either side of me, on the big sofa in the lounge. I did at least lock the door, I remember. Then Piers suggested he put a film on the video. I suppose I must still have been a bit naive - here we were ready for a sexy trio and now Piers was suggesting we watch television. Mark seemed to think it was a good idea, however, and Piers loaded the video player and we sat back to watch. "I was soon disabused of my idiotic notions. The film was a very high-quality Swedish production featuring two very well-hung and muscular men and three or four equally well-endowed women. As the film unfolded and the characters began to suck, fuck and generally indulge in sexual acrobatics, I was fascinated. Then, from either side of me I felt hands busy with my clothing. I was wearing a tight woollen sweater tucked into the waistband of a fairly short skirt. Male hands soon tugged the tight sweater up and over my breasts; I leant forward and my bra catch was released. Piers (I think) completed the job of freeing my heavy tits, which were already becoming swollen with excitement, from the confines of my bra, which he pushed up above the globes of sweet flesh. I sat there, fascinated by the action on the screen, my clothes up around my neck like a schoolgirl in the back of some boy's car, as both Piers and Mark mauled my titties, squeezing the firm flesh and teasing the

nipples that already stood erect with desire. "As the action on the screen became more intense, Mark and Piers continued to work on my breasts. Their attentions to my creamy mounds and the erotic happenings on the screen conspired to bring me to a state of intense arousal. Each of the boys concentrated on a breast each, kneading the flesh firmly, sending crazy sensations to my loins. At some point one or other managed to peel the sweater over my head and to get me out of the bra, so I was truly naked to the waist. "Then the action on the screen was forgotten temporarily as we became engrossed in our own real-life sex orgy. Somehow both Mark and Piers were divested of shirts and trousers and I found myself seated between two naked youths, their virile organs in a state of energetic erection. A mouth covered mine, a tongue probed between my lips. Another mouth clamped over my breast, sucking hard on the sweet cherry-tip nipple, teeth grazed my flesh. My sex began to overflow, wetting the lacy panties still concealed under my rucked-up skirt. As their hands continued to roughly manhandle my breastflesh my own hands were busy exploring - a hard cock was squeezed in one hand as I explored the other's balls sac. My mouth and tongue played over young hard male breasts, licking at nipples, nibbling at the flesh. "Suddenly from a frenzy of activity I was laying back with my head in Mark's lap, his hands still squeezing my tits, sending sexy sensations through my body, as Piers helped divest me of my remaining clothes. My short skirt, panties and garter-belt were soon gone. Then slowly, caressing my legs from plump, damp inner thigh to ankle he slowly removed my stockings. Then to my amazement, standing naked, his erection jutting, Piers cradled my foot in his hand and began to worship it with his mouth. His tongue played exciting games over the instep and sole. Then he took each toe in turn between his lips licking and sucking, tonguing between them, sending delicious sensations to my brain. "While Piers lavished this incredible treatment on my feet, spending what seemed hours on each toe, Mark dipped his fingers into my sodden pussy and finding my clitty, frigged me to a shattering climax, making me scream with delight and release. "When I had recovered a little, Piers had me get down on my hands and knees on the carpet so he could fuck me from behind. His weapon, while not as massive as Mark's, was more than adequate and when he mounted me, ploughing into my sex from behind, I was well filled. "As he began to fuck steadily in and out of my cunny, I again became aware of the actors going through their paces on the television screen. One of the men was fucking into a well-endowed black woman who was bent over an armchair, while a second woman frigged the black girl's anus. The second man was similarly employed with a big-titted redhead, whose mouth was filled with the huge prick of yet a third man. With this blatantly sexual sight before me and Piers reaming my own cunny from behind I was coming again in no time. "The party on the screen was coming to a climax likewise, the men positioning themselves with erections in hand ready to come over the bodies of their female partners. Piers withdrew from me and standing with Mark, before me as I knelt on the floor, told me to wank their tools in a tableau of life imitating the fantasy being played out on the screen! I reached out and grasped a throbbing cock in each hand, squeezing tightly and wanking vigorously. It was just moments before both erupted, jetting floods of hot creamy spend over my heaving breasts, shoulders and belly. A real river of semen flowed over my bosom, dripped from my nipples and anointed my belly. The screen fantasy had concluded too and the television switched to some banal news or current-affairs programme. " 'Well' I said huskily, 'since you've got me in this mess, you can at least help me to clean it up.' As if to make a point, I scooped a fingerful of the wonderful gooey stuff between my lips. " 'OK, to the shower then,' smiled Piers. " 'No, showers later - tongues first,' I insisted. Then they got the message and kneeling with me used their tongues to lap their spend from my naked body. "Then we did use the shower, the two boys soaping me luxuriously, our bodies moulding together as the needlepoint jets of water washed over us. I did my fair share of soaping too!"

During the course of this narrative Helen's hand had crept nearer and nearer to her sex, as she knelt on the grass. Her nipples and her far away look betrayed her obvious state of arousal. I dealt her a sharp blow with the whip I had been using as she exercised and her hand drew back instantly. "Helen, remember your place. No relief for you until we permit. Now on with your tale." "Well, there isn't much more to tell," she began again. "After the shower both Mark and Piers were ready for action again. We towelled each other dry and went to the bedroom. "Once there we descended again into a frenzy of sexual activity. At one point I was draped over the end of the bed (in a posture I now more usually associate with punishment) with Piers's firm erection embedded in me. He parted my bum-cheeks and pushed his middle finger into my anus and began to frig my bumhole in time with his thrusts into my cunt. Being filled in two holes like that for the first time made me come almost instantly. "So we used each other through most of the night. I quite lost count of who came in me, over me, in my mouth or when. Towards dawn we fell asleep, waking about ten. Then of course I had to get my guilty secrets out of the house without the servants noticing. "Now, dammit, I feel guilty about it all over again!" she concluded, her cheeks colouring. "Well, Helen, I think that that can be easily rectified, don't you?" I had with me a riding crop which I had rescued from the debris turned up in the course of Helen's cleaning operations in the stable. I held it up so she could see. "I am sure this will bring tears of contrition to your eyes." "Just the thing I should think," she responded. "How would you like me?" "Over my lap; and be quick about it!" Helen quickly got to her feet and draped her delightful nude form over my lap. Once more her firm, ovate buttocks were presented to me to use as I wished. I ran my hands over the smooth yielding flesh as Helen settled into the required posture. I drew the stem of the riding crop over her uplifted bottom, stroking along her bum-cleft, tickling her with the wicked leather strap. I used the crop to part her legs, then stroked the leather slowly over her exposed sex lips, making her squirm under the tickling sensation. "I warn you Helen, don't fight against the pain. Let yourself go!" I drew back and slapped the crop down hard, quivering her bum flesh with a loud 'whaaak'. Helen jigged and squealed as her bottom reddened. I took my time, allowing Helen and myself fully to savour each stroke. Helen took my advice, and each time the crop creased her flesh, yelled lustily, grinding her belly into my erecting weapon as she squealed her hurt. She managed to sustain four hard strokes on her shuddering buttocks before the tears came. Then she was sobbing and howling by turns as the flood of salt tears coursed down her cheeks. "Are you feeling well punished?" I demanded as a further stroke landed, jerking her frame. "Ungh, unff! Oh yes, yees!" she replied through gritted teeth. "Is your bum on fire?" Another stroke. "Oh yes, yees! Please, it's worse than anything before! But please don't stop!" I laid on more strokes, reddening her poor punished arse as she howled and cried for mercy in a half-hearted way. For over half an hour I used the crop to punish her upthrust bottom, with Helen squirming, squealing and sobbing the while. I landed but fifteen strokes, but the crop searched her to the quick and Helen had plenty of cause to weep out her guilt.

When I considered she had had enough, I let her stand up. She stood still sobbing, wet-eyed, clutching at her bottom. "Did that help? No more guilt?" I asked. "Yes, thank you so much! I feel so much better," she replied quietly, her voice thick with crying, but a charming smile of inner satisfaction playing about her full-lipped mouth. "And how do you like the riding crop?" "Not much. It is dreadfully painful, even worse than the birch. These tears are quite genuine, you know." "Yes," I replied, "but I am sure you will come to adore it - as you will all punishment. Receiving certainly and maybe even giving." The evening was now drawing on and now that the sun had gone there was a distinct chill in the air. The naked, sobbing girl began to shiver as I led her back across the lawn to the house.

8: INTERLUDE A few days after my conversation with Helen I was sitting with my host on the terrace overlooking the formal gardens which surrounded the house. We were lingering over mid-morning coffee, enjoying the sun and the sight of Helen hard at work on her demeaning duties. Now that the young woman had finished setting the stables to rights we had turned her attention to the gardens and to the upkeep of the house. Today had been appointed for a session of housecleaning and our attractive slave was occupied in beating rugs on the lawn. Naked she stood in front of the house wielding an old-fashioned rattan carpet-beater, raising dust from a collection of rugs draped over a trestle. My companion turned to me and suddenly remarked: "You know, even though Helen is to be deprived of sexual activity I see no reason to deny ourselves." "Quite so," I responded, "and I am sure you have friends whom you visit for your needs - just as I have." "No, you mistake my meaning. I am suggesting that there is no reason why we should not summon such entertainment here." "An excellent thought," I responded with enthusiasm. "I must admit that when we first met I was less than frank with you," my companion continued, warming to his theme. "It must have become obvious to you that I am not inexperienced in the practices of exercising domination over women. You may feel that I would be capable unaided of bringing our dear Helen to the desired state of subservience." I readily agreed with this assertion. "That may be true," he continued, "but be that as it may, I believe strongly in bringing the best experience possible to bear on any problem. You have a certain reputation for skill and success in this area. I was therefore anxious to have your assistance. Forgive me if I pandered to your ego in order to be sure of enlisting you in my cause." I smiled, dismissing the need to forgive him. Indeed I was delighted to be involved in his most interesting undertaking, notwithstanding the trivial subterfuge he had employed to gain my interest. "You have shown a distinct lack of inquisitiveness with respect to my business affairs. It is a

characteristic of yours that I value highly. Let it suffice at this point that I tell you that my business dealings are mainly to do with the securing and use of information and have in great part to do with 'persuasion'." I kept silent, but was pleased that the lack of curiosity I had adopted as a matter of policy had so ingratiated me with my host. So my friend continued: "In such an enterprise as mine it is useful - indeed essential - to have some female 'employees' who are capable of pleasing and of performing a variety of discreet services. It is best that such women (young ladies if you prefer) are tractable, obedient, biddable and of course presentable. I have several such young persons at my command - my own little harem, if you will. "I have it in mind to summon two or three of them here for our pleasure. Helen can be made to attend on them in the character of handmaiden. She can assist them to prepare for our little gathering and can wait upon us as we enjoy ourselves. It will be an admirable lesson in humility for the young woman and will allow her to witness others who share her submissive predilection taking their pleasures." I could only applaud my host's felicitous suggestion and it was agreed that he should telephone to summon the three young women he had in mind to join us later that afternoon. Looking up at that moment it was as if my friend had noticed Helen at her labours for the first time. "Now look at that!" he cried pointing at the naked girl as she raised clouds of dust from the rugs. "That gives me an excellent notion! Come on!" Close on his heels, I followed him down on to the lawn, where Helen continued to belabour the dusty rugs. When my companion stopped her and took the rattan carpet-beater into his own hand, his intention became obvious. There was a stone bench nearby; a simple slab with no arms or ornamental back. Helen was made to recline on the cool stone and to raise her legs high in the air presenting her bottom and thighs for a beating. In this position we would both also enjoy a clear view of her face as the punishment progressed. Without delay John Marsh got to work with the rattan instrument, the paddle-shaped carpetbeater slapping squarely on Helen's fleshy behind. The poor girl squealed and let out her breath with the shock. As the beating continued an expression of pain mixed with growing arousal was clearly written on her lovely face. The sound of slaps and howls of pain echoed round the grounds as my friend played the wicked instrument over the young woman's thighs and flinching bumflesh. Helen struggled hard to keep her legs high up, pointing skyward, in the required position. Eventually, despite herself, tiredness overcame her and I had to assist, holding her by the ankles. At this point my companion told me to part our victim's legs, which I did, still supporting them in the air. Helen's pouting sex was thus revealed, the puffy lips nestling between the suave thighs. John Marsh continued to beat the exposed flesh while Helen's face registered the hurt she suffered for our diversion. Then, without warning, he slapped the whippy rattan forcefully over the girl's exposed sex parts, drawing a strident howl of anguish and floods of tears from the unfortunate victim. At last my friend put up the carpet-beater and Helen was left to comfort her well-beaten bottom while we went off to make the necessary arrangements for our entertainment later that day. That afternoon, John Marsh's limousine arrived and deposited our three most attractive guests at the door. My host briefly made the introductions as Helen brought their overnight bags inside the house and finished preparing, the accommodations we had designated for them. Veronica was a tall, Junoesque woman, somewhere in her mid-thirties. She was indeed a handsome creature, full-breasted and mature with a lascivious look about her - built for pleasure, one might say. I was given to understand that she fulfilled the position of my host's personal assistant. As such she looked after the smooth running of his office. Not least among her duties, however, was the strict supervision of the younger women whom John Marsh employed, ensuring that they always met the required standards of behaviour, loyalty and appearance. The other two girls were much younger - late teenage to early twenties at a guess - but certainly giving all appearance of a worldliness beyond their years. In everything, I noticed, they deferred to

the older woman and of course they were meek and submissive with respect to my host. Eleanor was very much an English rose - pale of complexion with a delightful firm figure. Her dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in ringlets, her wide brown eyes sparkled. Sue, on the other hand, was of oriental extraction, possibly Thai or maybe from Singapore. She possessed the colouring and build typical of her race, delicately slender but with a figure that promised delight. We sent all three charming creatures away with Helen to prepare themselves for the evening. John Marsh took pains to impress on Veronica that she was to use Helen as the most menial of handmaidens and that any mistakes or negligence on her part should be punished without holding back. Our poor novice was placed entirely at her disposal. A large dressing room equipped with a vast sunken bath had been prepared for our guests. Helen led the way. At this point my friend suggested that it might prove amusing to observe the girls at their preparations and in particular to see how these submissive girls who were meekly obedient to his will and who obeyed Veronica without question might treat one - Helen - who was placed under their dominion. I had already found that many of the rooms in this house were equipped with the means to enable the occupants to be secretly observed. This dressing room proved to be no exception. Along one wall was fixed a huge mirror which our guests would use in the course of their toilet. This 'mirror' was in fact of a type of one-way glass; thus it was a mirror on one side but a perfect window from the adjoining room. My host and I settled ourselves comfortably before this window to watch the unsuspecting girls at their preparations. While Helen, obeying Veronica's every instruction, busied herself with filling the bath and unpacking the girls' bags, Eleanor and Sue stripped off their clothes and submitted to a minute inspection of their persons by their supervisor. We too now had an opportunity to observe their charming flesh, admiring Eleanor's full breasts, richly tipped with coral nubs, which were quite the equal of Helen's gorgeous fruit, noting her belly that swelled softly beneath her navel to her mons and relishing Sue's smaller but no less perfectly formed beauties, in particular her compact, boyish bottom. The intimate inspection at an end, Sue was allowed to bathe and immersed her light-brown, silken-skinned form in the foaming bath. Veronica was, however, not satisfied that Eleanor's bodily hair would be wholly satisfactory to her master. "Quite right, quite right," murmured my friend in agreement. No, all trace of hair save for a trimmed patch on the young woman's Mount of Venus must be removed before she bathed. And who else to perform this delicate service but the novice Helen? Eleanor reclined a little nervously on a couch, submitting herself to the girl's attentions. Veronica produced soap and a cut-throat razor, handing them to Helen with a brief instruction. Helen, trembling slightly, made a fairly proficient attempt at shaving the other girl's armpits, managing to nick her only once and that at the last. A more difficult proposition in a much more sensitive area lay before her. Helen was obviously unnerved by the unfamiliarity of the task she had been set and her querulousness was only increased by the torrent of instructions and admonitions which Veronica and Eleanor poured forth. As Eleanor, still reclining, parted her legs, allowing Helen access to the delicate and intimate areas surrounding her sex, the hand holding the razor trembled visibly. As was inevitable, Helen proved inadequate to the task and nicked Eleanor's delicate flesh on more than one occasion. The tension mounted until Helen made one slip too many for the other girl's liking or comfort. "You stupid, clumsy bitch," Eleanor yelled, leaping to her feet and slapping Helen squarely across the face. Surprised, stung and overwhelmed, Helen dropped the razor and backed away, cowering before the terrible rage of the injured girl. The naked Eleanor pursued her, grasped her by the hair, winding her hand in the jet-black tresses, and having thus secured her victim, rained blows on Helen's face and body. Helen was borne to the ground under the furious girl's onslaught and made no attempt to defend herself.

Eleanor soon overcame her initial fury and settled herself to punish Helen more methodically. Poor Helen's blouse was ripped from her, baring her breasts to her aggressor's slaps. Eleanor, now astride her recumbent victim, seized the ripe fruit and dug her nails cruelly into the yielding flesh as Helen squealed with pain. Straddling her victim she rained vicious slaps across Helen's face and heaving breasts as the latter howled and dissolved into tears. Veronica allowed her charge to vent her anger on the helpless Helen for several minutes before calling a halt to their performance. Eleanor was sent to join Sue amid the fragrant bubbles in the sunken bath while Veronica took charge of Helen, who still lay on the floor, naked to the waist and sobbing quietly. "Come now my girl, on your feet. Take off the rest of your clothes. I shall finish off the lesson which your clumsiness deserves." Hanging her head, Helen meekly complied with the older woman's directions. When she was naked Veronica draped her over her knee, pinning her legs and grasping her neck to hold her still. Then the amazon took a silver-backed hairbrush and spanked Helen's jiggling buttocks without mercy. She alternated the faces of the brush, first using the hard metal back, then pounding the stiff bristles into Helen's irritated bum-flesh. Of course, the young woman's burning fesses were still very sore from the treatment she had received at John Marsh's hands that morning; indeed her bottom still bore the bluish bruises. So she wriggled and howled, crying hopeless tears and begging for mercy until at last Veronica considered her to be sufficiently punished and released her. There was to be no respite for poor Helen, however. She must get on and help the girls finish their toilet. Veronica now undressed herself and joined her companions in the bath. Helen joined them as well and for some time was occupied in soaping and rinsing their gorgeous frames, while her tormentors treated her to many jibes, pinches and slaps. It was a scene from the days of the more debauched Roman emperors: steam, perfumed bubbles, the erotic proximity of abundant pearllustred skin and a lovely downtrodden slave. The bath being finished, it was Helen who must fetch towels and gently dry each girl. Then as each girl in turn stood before her Helen must apply a generous dusting of perfumed powder, ensuring no crease or cranny should be overlooked. Then from a battery of cosmetics, perfumes were selected and applied to breasts, pulse points and within each mysterious bumcleft. Then again it was Helen who must attend to each girl's careful cosmetic preparation, rouging nipples, polishing nails and applying make-up. All passed off well enough and as the young women were about to dress themselves, ready to be received at dinner, my host and I slipped away, since we too had our own preparations to make. Some little time later we all gathered in the living area of the vast Tudor mansion for the evening's festivities. A buffet meal had been set out on a table to one side of the room so that we could help ourselves without too much ceremony or formality. Indeed no formality was to be permitted that evening. Helen passed among us, now in the character of a servant, offering wine, handing round drinks and generally looking to our comfort. For her humiliating role her husband had decreed that she should wear thigh-length leather boots with towering heels on which she teetered dangerously, and a black leather mini-skirt which served only to heighten and display the nudity of her buttocks. Apart from this she was naked, her heavy bosom, nipples rouged, on open display. Our guests were, by contrast, elegantly, indeed appetisingly dressed for our delight. Both Veronica and Eleanor were dressed in couturier dresses of the finest cut. Veronica's statuesque body was clad in peach coloured silk, her blonde mane elegantly piled on her head, her throat, shoulders and cleavage bare. Eleanor wore flame-red silk, which emphasised her abundant beauties as her brown ringlets cascaded over her bare shoulders. Sue was pleasingly dressed in a simple silken cheong-sam, the tight skirt slit to the waist revealing her sinuous brown-skinned thigh. The atmosphere in the room was headily charged with their gorgeous musky perfume, promisingly erotic. So we passed some time in eating, drinking and making conversation, as at any party. The young ladies proved to be charming and interesting companions, able to converse on a variety of topics in a most entertaining fashion. The room was now filled with the sounds of humanity at ease, with female laughter and the buzz of conversation. Helen humbly stood to one side, largely ignored

unless more wine was called for or the background music required attention. I became engrossed in conversation with the two younger women, leaving my friend to entertain (or rather to be entertained by) the generously endowed Veronica. Glancing up from my contemplation of Sue's attractive oriental face as with a smile she recounted some anecdote of travels in Japan, I noticed that my companion, himself deep in conversation, had thrust his hand beneath Veronica's dress and was obviously toying with her nether charms. As I continued to look on, all interest in conversation now gone, my friend withdrew his hand, reached behind his partner and released the fastener of her dress. Then he drew the pastel silk sheath from her body until she stood nude but for her stockings. Our host's action seemed to give the signal for the main activity of the evening to commence. My two companions busied themselves with my clothing and I, in my turn, assisted them to disrobe until we were all naked. John Marsh drew Veronica to a couch and was soon enveloped in her creamy flesh. He lavished attention on her luscious bosom, nuzzling her breastflesh and kneading the fleshy sacs as his hands roved freely and lasciviously over her voluptuously ripe charms. I settled myself on the couch opposite with the other two girls, luxuriating in the proximity of such silken, richly perfumed, young female flesh. Sue perched herself, light as a feather, on my lap, her taut, boyish bottom grinding itself into my arousing manhood. At my side, Eleanor cupping her bosom offered up her soft breast-flesh to my mouth, to bite and to suckle at her thickly rouged nipples. Across the room I had an excellent view of my friend as he pleasured himself on the abundant body of the near-amazon Veronica. She lay beneath him, her stockinged legs clasped about his lean, hard body. He was busy at her swollen breasts, biting hard on the suave flesh, leaving red tooth marks on the milky flesh. Veronica squealed with pleasure and with pain as my friend browsed on her soft opulence. Meanwhile Eleanor had inverted herself and now knelt beside me on the couch offering her bottom and her pouting sex to my attention. Sue in her turn continued to wriggle her tense little bottom on my lap as I enjoyed her sweet little mammaries, squeezing the brown-skinned cones as she moaned throatily. Sue slipped from my lap and installing herself between my legs fitted my straining erection between her lips, taking my throbbing manhood into her soft, wet mouth. As the delicious oriental hussy sucked hard on my length I was free to devote myself to the delights which Eleanor proffered. I licked and nibbled the firm bum-cheeks, then, parting her fesses, licked voraciously along her bumcleft before plunging my tongue into her puckered anal hole. Then, Eleanor's rear end being thus well lubricated, I plunged two fingers into the elastic opening to frig her bum-hole. At the same time I thrust my other hand into her frothing wet sex to give her a double frig. I was in this way able to pay some attention to the erotic sight of my friend as he used Veronica's ample body for his pleasure. She was now kneeling on the floor, her bottom thrust up to my colleague as he, inserting his angry erection into her womanhood, mounted her and began to ride lustily in and out of her, his balls slapping against her juddering fesses. At a sign from her husband, Helen hurried to bring a long, thick candle which my friend made haste to push into Veronica's fundament. Thus he continued to roger her, thrusting his weapon, slickly coated with her spending, in and out of her womanhood as he frigged her bumhole vigorously with the waxen phallus. Veronica tossed her head maniacally, eyes closed in ecstasy as she climaxed again and again under this treatment. Eventually John Marsh tired of this exercise and pulling his stiff pole from her quim, drew apart her bum-cheeks and substituted his flesh for the wax rod in her rectum. The candle now did duty in her womanhood as my friend continued to thrust his fleshy engine and the improvised dildo in and out of her body until at last he too climaxed, jetting his creamy spend into Veronica's bum-hole as she squealed with lust. By this time, of course, Sue's lips and tongue had worked my own member to that heady state of excitement which presages the deluge. I felt my balls churn and my seed boil within me. Then I was

coming in magnificent release, spurting a copious, creamy flood into the girl's willing mouth. She swallowed my first spurts, then jerking her head back caught a further stream of the white, sticky stuff over her face and hair. Giggling with pleasure she spread the goo over her face until she was stickily covered from chin to forehead. At another sign from our host, Helen brought robes for John Marsh and myself. The girls, fittingly, were left in a state of now dishevelled undress. My host then addressed Veronica who lay panting on the floor and Eleanor who sprawled on the sofa, her legs still splayed apart. "Now that we have taken the edge from our appetites, I am sure my friend," and he nodded to me, "will not mind if we attend to a little business matter. It will not bore him! Veronica, Eleanor, on your knees before me." With ready obedience the two women quickly recovered themselves and knelt before their master, who went on: "Eleanor you have become increasingly inattentive to your duties and to the high standards I require of all my people. Worst of all, last night, you failed in your project with the Ambassador. Fortunately we are able to recover the situation, but it will cost much time and effort." Eleanor knelt with head bowed, silent. No comment or excuse was called for or required. "You, Veronica, serve me to ensure that girls such as Eleanor are obedient at all times and in all things. You have obviously been lax in your duties and must share Eleanor's blame and her punishment. Get up and kneel on the chair over there." He indicated a high-backed leather chair. Veronica was on her feet at once and arranged herself as directed, kneeling on the seat, her arms braced against the chair back, her taut fleshed buttocks pushed back to meet her due punishment. Helen in response to yet another command brought a cane and handed it to her master. The wood cleaved the air and landed with a staccato crack squarely over the richly fleshed rondures of Veronica's buttocks. She flinched, exhaled sharply but made no other sound. For eighteen such strokes, applied without mercy, bruising her ripely quivering mounds, she suffered silently. When it was over and her bottom was redly sore and dotted with purple bruises, she rose and quietly thanked John Marsh for her punishment and for his consideration. Now it was Eleanor's turn to suffer and she, as the prime culprit, must bear a heavier burden. While the girls had been at their toilet, my friend and I had set up the punishment frame, just as we had for Helen's initiatory experience. Eleanor was now fixed to this sturdy implement, her arms and legs strapped to the frame and her neck fixed into a collar which effectively held her rigid and immobile. Her ripe breasts hung beneath her body as her whole weight now bore down on her forearms. Her employer now armed himself with the rattan carpet-beater which he had used on Helen earlier in the day. He had obviously become partial to the effect the whippy instrument could have on bare, white flesh. Again wood swished through the air and landed on yielding flesh with a satisfying report. Eleanor whimpered but remained largely impassive. A second and a third blow landed. Her bum-cheeks twitched and reddened under the impact. As the beating progressed Eleanor closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip. She may have borne her pain silently but anguish as well as sexual excitement was clearly written on her lovely face. The sight of so much delectable flesh under rigorous punishment was certainly arousing and my virile member duly sprang erect, demanding relief. I slipped off my robe and stood at the front of the punishment frame, offering the fiery tip of my rod to Eleanor's lips. Understanding well what was now required of her and not unwilling, she extended her tongue and licked at the velvet tip, straining to bring her tiny pink asp to contact with my flesh. For a time I toyed with her thus, holding myself just within reach of her tongue as she licked at me. Then when the crimson tip was well wetted I gently pushed forward, nudging my excited engine against her pursed lips. Voraciously she opened for me and I entered her mouth.

As the cruel rattan continued to paddle her burning nates I lunged my tool into her throat. Eleanor sucked hard and lapped me with her tongue. I withdrew then shoved home again as the helpless wretch shuddered under the steady rain of blows which her .master lavished on her bottom. By now John Marsh himself was hotly aroused. He too put off his robe revealing his weighty erection which jutted from beneath his flat belly, the heavy scrotum dangling tightly beneath. Roughly he seized poor Eleanor's burning nates, parting them to reveal her crinkled brown anal ring. Then, without ceremony, he embedded himself in the girl's fundament, fucking her bumhole with vigorous strokes. The helpless girl bore up under the double onslaught, still mouthing my throbbing member as I violated her throat and yielding her bottom to my friend. It was not long before we were both spending in her, filling her mouth and entrails with a flood of creamy jism. Our frenzied lust satisfied, we released her then and a general orgy commenced under the longing gaze of poor Helen who seemed likely to die of bitter frustration. From time to time she was called, when our romp permitted, to bring refreshment; otherwise we ignored her, being literally wrapped up in other affairs. John Marsh and I, of course, did ample justice to the feast of fair flesh before us. Naturally, little oriental Sue did not escape without tasting the rod. My friend at one point in our orgy lay on his back, his tool held erect and allowed Sue to straddle him, impaling herself and riding his manhood for all she was worth. Eleanor, seizing her opportunity to please her master, caught up the rattan cane and slashed it across the taut brown buttocks as the tiny girl pistoned up and down on John Marsh's rod, which seemed to threaten to tear her asunder at each stroke. Sue yelped but did not falter. Again and again Eleanor cut at her buttocks; up and down the pert brown body rode. Sue squealed with the force of her orgasm which was only intensified by her friend's attentions to her backside and my friend poured his seed into her as the whole knot of humanity collapsed in a sweating panting heap. Through the night we pleasured ourselves, not neglecting any opportunity to humiliate Helen. And so our well-earned interlude drew to a close in the early hours of the morning. We five withdrew, exhausted, to bed for some much-needed rest and left Helen to set all to rights for the morning before she too retired to her lonely bed.

9: THE BOOK IS CLOSED On the morning that followed our intimate party with my host's three charming associates we slept late and the morning was well advanced when we finally breakfasted. This meal concluded, the delightful houris Sue and Eleanor were sent off in John Marsh's limousine, probably to start work on retrieving the affair of the Ambassador to which my friend had alluded the night before. I, of course, considered this to be none of my business and refrained from prying. Veronica, on the other hand, was to stay with us a little while longer and to assist us as we inflicted yet further trials on poor Helen. She sat with us now as we lingered over the breakfast table, while Helen made herself busy with clearing away the remains of our meal and with other earlymorning domestic duties. At her master's behest Veronica had slipped the peach-coloured silk wrapper which was her only garment from her shoulders and sat naked to the waist as we openly and pointedly admired her voluptuous charms. Her heavy, perfectly rounded bosom swelled proudly from her chest, the buttermilk flesh firm and taut. Despite their mass her magnificent mammaries were hard and pert with no hint of sag. The creamy mounts were appetisingly tipped with wide red aureolae culminating in the stiff berries of her nipples. Still, though, her flawless flesh bore the vivid marks from John Marsh's mistreatment of the previous evening. The nudity of her amazon torso was accentuated by a string of pearls wound tightly about her throat. Her thick blonde hair now cascaded over her bare shoulders, shining in the morning sunlight. From time to time my companion would fondle her, cupping a heavy breast or stroking her back, while commenting on her form as though showing off a prize beast. As would be expected, Veronica bore such humiliating treatment meekly and without a blush. Such was her role of obedience, such her place in John Marsh's household.

As I have noted already, at various times throughout her training Helen was made to submit to a variety of harsh punishments in order to expiate or atone for her numerous infidelities to her husband. As I have shown, when made to undergo these chastisements Helen had also been made to read out the relevant portion of the written confession we had procured from her at the beginning of her torments. Now we were nearing the end of her testament and the chronicle of one last incident remained to be told over. This day had been set aside for that event. I assumed, therefore, that Helen would be made to submit once more to some taxing punishment and then her sins would be forgiven. I asked my host if this was indeed his intention. "Yes, quite so," was his matter-of-fact response "after this she will have paid her debt. Then we can progress to the positive conclusion we desire and she shall submit to me of her own accord and I shall receive her. You understand that forgiveness is also a part of the plan." "Tell me," I pursued, "is it only on Helen that you mean to revenge yourself? After all her confession shows that she was ably and willingly abetted in her crimes by several individuals." "You will come to realise that it is not in my nature or my practice to let a wrong against myself go unpunished," my host responded quietly. "I never turn the other cheek, that only encourages the wrongdoer to persist in his offence. No, the posture of strength, positively applied, is always to be preferred. Be assured that all who have offended me will receive a just measure of retribution. Indeed some already have been punished." "However, to today's plans!" he continued after a brief pause, his hand straying over Veronica's ample left breast as he stood behind her. "This last of Helen's crimes is probably the worst since she betrayed me with one of my own guests. Consequently the punishment I have devised will be of suitable gravity and will need the assistance of Veronica here. So shall we get started?" Suddenly my friend was all business. Helen was gathered up and followed by myself and Veronica, marched to her room. Here she was made to strip herself naked and to sit on the highbacked wooden chair which formed part of the room's sparse furnishing. Then with his own hand John Marsh strapped the young woman to the seat, as we had done so many times before, ensuring that she was held immobile and forced to sit stiffly erect. My friend then produced a curious assembly of chains and metal clamps which he first handed to me to examine with the terse comment: "I expect that you are quite familiar with these and their use." Indeed I was and involuntarily, hard-hearted though I am, I shivered at the thought of the exquisite pain and discomfort now in store for our poor penitent. I held in my hand a set of finely wrought nipple gyves. The workmanship was indeed excellent, the cups which would attach to the victim's nipples, or rather to the fleshy peaks of each tender breast, were made of gold, the clamps and the tiny screws with which the pressure of the clamp on the victim's flesh could be increased were delicate but robust. The whole intricate assembly would work like tiny thumbscrews bringing throbbing pain to such a very sensitive portion of the body. My host took the contraption from me. First he fingered Helen's crinkled nipples to bring them to an engorged stiffness, smearing saliva over the rosy buds as they erected to their customary stiffness, then with great care he slipped the bell-shaped cups over the erectile buds and the fleshy tips of her breasts and adjusted the clamps until they bit and held on her flesh. He stood back, gazing into her frightened eyes, the delicate chain leading from each gyve clasped in his hand. "Now, my dear, you are about to undergo the final punishment which will wipe away your sins of infidelity against me. Since the final crime which we will consider today was of such a serious nature, to invite one of my guests to betray my hospitality, your punishment will be suitably harsh. Are you ready?" and he jerked the chains drawing Helen's breasts into tense cones, sending a spasm of pain through her body. Helen winced and replied: "Master, I am ready. Please punish me as you wish." And as the pain subsided, her expression showed that she was genuinely content to submit herself to the trial. John Marsh slackened the chains, releasing Helen's bosom, and then proceeded to work the screws which controlled the clamp bearing on her nipples. Very gradually, a bare quarter turn at a time, marking the full effect of each new wave of pain on his victim, he increased the pressure on her

tortured breastflesh. At first Helen was silent, eyes widening as each new painful shock broke over her. As the pressure increased she squealed, she writhed in the seat, fought against the tight leather straps that held her. Sweat broke on her brow and mingled with the salt tears of pain that flowed from her now tight-shut eyes. My host desisted and again jerked at the chains, coning her breasts and sending an electric jolt of pain through Helen's frame. "Now attend, while Veronica reads over the record of your crime." Veronica, standing beside the sobbing girl, took up the book of her confession and read: "It was inevitable that I should succumb to Max. Leaving me alone with this very attractive, very manly German was just putting too much temptation in my way. Or maybe I should say in our way, since when the opportunity presented itself Max certainly did not hold back. "All evening I had been wondering if Max's elegant, well-cut clothing concealed a physique as attractive as external appearances promised. He was tall, well-built and rugged in an outdoor, hearty fashion. He wasn't so much sun-tanned as weathered, all ruddy cheeks and fair moustache. Very masculine and very good-looking. "When John announced that, unfortunately, his business affairs would necessitate his absence the next day, but that he was sure I would be pleased to amuse his guest from Hamburg, I knew I should have the chance to explore Max's body in detail. "The next day dawned fine and warm, so I invited my not-unwelcome guest to spend some time by the pool. In his bathing trunks I was not disappointed by my first sight of Max's fine frame. He was broad chested and narrow waisted, well muscled without being over-developed. A russet thatch of curls covered his torso. I also harboured a strong suspicion that his skimpy swimsuit concealed something that would only delight and certainly not disappoint. "I made sure that I was sending Max all the right signals by selecting my tiniest bikini. It consisted, in fact, of no more than three slivers of cloth, barely enough to hide my nipples and to keep my sex from casual view. All of which gave Max an excellent sight of what was being offered for his pleasure. "We lounged on the open-air terrace in front of the pool-house, soaking up the sun and chatting idly. I had brought along a nicely chilled bottle of Dom Perignon and we did it ample justice as the day wore on. "As the contents of the bottle diminished our talk became more and more intimate and our tone charged more and more with sexual promise. I removed the upper half of my bikini on the pretext of sunning my bosom - 'You don't mind?' I murmured irrelevantly. I could see from Max's expression as he admired my bare titties that he did not mind in the least. "The wine, the talk and the sun were all conspiring to make me randy and drowsy. I needed to move things along, to get Max to seize the initiative. I turned to my companion with a smile. 'You know for some reason I am feeling very tense. Do you think a little massage might help? You look like you would have a very gentle touch.' " 'I'd be delighted to try to help,' Max grinned, fully understanding my drift. 'Just lie on your tummy and leave the rest to me.' "I rolled over, closing my eyes and waiting for the first exciting contact of his hands on my lustful flesh. There was a brief pause and a sort of faint rustling sound. I could guess what was going on. Then his firm but gentle hands were on me, kneading my pliant flesh, easing my muscles. I gave myself up to the voluptuous enjoyment of his masterly touch. "Gently he massaged me - neck, shoulders, back - until at last he reached my bottom. Fingers hooked into the thongs of my bikini pants: " 'I think you will be better off without these!'

"In response I merely raised my hips, letting Max draw the flimsy scrap of cloth over my bottom and down my legs. I lay there naked! "Then his lips and tongue supplemented his hands. Running down my spine, tasting my bumflesh, teeth nipping at the generous, smooth flesh, tongue probing the secret crevice between my buttocks, tingling my nerve ends. I felt my sex turn to liquid lust as my stomach churned with desire. Languorously I rolled over on to my back. "I had been right. Max had removed his swimsuit and was now as naked as I, standing beside me. His fine, hard erection swung gently before my eyes, promising delight. I smelt his mingled male smells: the light acridity of sweat, traces of soap and of his male cologne, just a whiff of sexual excitement - heavenly. "I reached up and grasped the thick, fleshy snake at the base and gently wanked him with a slow, sensuous motion, drawing the wrinkled hood of foreskin back from the shining crimson-purple dome. I knew that I was having a good effect from the low, guttural groan that came from deep in Max's throat. A single teardrop of seminal juice gathered and hung at the tip. I took it on my tongue, relishing the intense salty tang. The snake twitched and pulsed under my hand. "I drew him closer and took him in my mouth, just letting the throbbing hardness rest on my tongue as I closed my lips softly about the shaft, holding him until he had mastered himself. I savoured the feel of the velvet-soft crown on my tongue, the sensation of the thick, powerful shaft filling my mouth, forcing my jaws apart. "Max's hands roved freely over my bare flesh, squeezing my breasts, flattering the soft flesh of my belly, until at last he reached my sex. His strong, gentle fingers worked inside me, parting the folds of my nether lips, paddling in my abundant fluids. "I started to lick and suck on the stiffly pulsing rod which nestled between my lips, holding tightly to the base. Meanwhile Max's gloriously sensitive fingers worked in my quim, teasing the bud of my clitoris, calling up wave after wave of tiny orgasms. "For a heavenly age we continued thus. Then I felt the pulse of his coming under my lightly grasping fingers. Eagerly I increased the intensity of my sucking and began again to wank him. Then in a rush his seed erupted. Jet after jet of cream swamped my mouth. I gagged in my throat, swallowed but just couldn't keep pace. My mouth was full and an excess dribbled down my chin and over my chest. "Swallowing hard, I drank down his creamy effusion. Then I tongued the residue from his wilting cock until it lay flaccid and at rest in my hand. "Our first passions being spent, I thought it more discreet to continue our fun inside the poolhouse, and anyway we could do with a little cooling off. I jumped to my feet and dived into the pool, closely followed by my new lover." At this point in the narrative John Marsh raised a commanding hand to halt Veronica's flow. It was obviously meant that Helen should suffer a little further discomfort. My companion turned the screw clamp on each of the gyves a whisker. A low moan of anguish was torn from Helen's throat as the clamps bit into her tormented breast-flesh. The tears which had once been staunched welled again in her eyes and coursed over her flushed cheeks. Again the pressure was increased, again she squealed and now began to beg for mercy, the words of supplication tumbling from her trembling lips. Helen's pretty face was now a picture of anguish, deep lines furrowing her forehead, her lips set in a rictus grin. Her nude body gleamed under a sheen of pain-induced sweat. Her tormentor jerked on the chains, pulling her breasts into perfect cones as again she screamed and begged to be spared. Satisfied for the moment, John Marsh motioned Veronica to continue with her narrative. "For a while we frolicked in the deliciously cool water, feeling its refreshing caress on our naked

skin. Then I felt ready and randy for another bout with my exciting new lover. I perched on the edge of the pool, my legs spread apart and imperiously commanded Max to lick my sex." "He needed no persuading and clamped his gorgeous mouth to my still hungry sex. His busy tongue soon brought me to transports of delight, climax after climax washed over me as I howled with pleasure. "Soon, however, Max was hard again and his magnificent organ demanded release. I got down into the pool and knelt in the shallow water. Its coolness was balm on my breasts and belly. Without further ceremony Max mounted me, his meaty rod probed my sex and filled me up. He grasped my hips and began to piston into my drooling womanhood. "Our earlier encounter had taken the edge from his appetite and now he seemed set to roger me forever. I gave myself up to bliss as his tool probed me, his belly pummelling against my bum as the water lapped about us. I lost count of the orgasms he gave me until, with a gasp he unleashed a torrent of sex-cream inside me, flooding my womb and overflowing my sex. "We dried ourselves off and then, seeking a greater privacy, I took Max up to bed where the afternoon passed away in a delirium of sex." Veronica put down the confession and my friend again stepped towards Helen and took hold of the fearsome contraption that still tortured her bosom. Helen's eyes were wide with terror and again she begged piteously to be spared. My friend, trusting his nice judgement in these matters, was implacable and increased the pressure as the poor child screamed in exquisite pain. Judging, finally, that Helen had suffered as much as she was capable of supporting in this direction, my friend quickly released her. The tips of her ravaged breasts were swollen and sore, the still-engorged teats the colour and shape of overripe plums. Veronica applied a little soothing ointment to each tender cone as Helen sobbed, though now with relief on being released from this nagging pain. Tenderly, my friend caressed his wife's face, brushing aside a tear as he spoke softly: "Now Helen, you must prepare yourself. Your punishment has only just begun. For this crime, the most serious of all, I have devised a special trial. Indeed I now propose that you should undergo a truly arduous ordeal. Veronica, release her and come with me." At once Veronica released the naked sobbing girl and helped her to her feet. Helen, despite her trials, soon recovered herself and so we followed John Marsh out of the house. He led us across the lawns and through the formal gardens which surrounded the house until at last we arrived at a sort of bower or secret garden. This man-made glade was surrounded by yew hedges and seemed to form a small theatre or arena. At one end of the bower stood a low ornamental altar, probably some architect's conceit, meant to be dedicated to some nymph of the woods. Beside the altar were placed two chairs. My friend motioned me to sit down and himself occupied the second seat. Veronica and our victim now stood before us. "Now Helen," my host resumed, "it is my wish that you undergo ordeal by combat. Your adversary stands beside you." At this the statuesque Veronica shrugged off her silken wrapper and stood naked in the sunlight that now streamed into the secret garden. It was obvious that the contest was unlikely to go in Helen's favour, for while our poor penitent was not undersized, the amazon definitely enjoyed a supreme physical advantage. In height she towered a good eight inches above poor Helen and enjoyed advantages in reach and weight over the young woman. "As of old, my dear," continued John Marsh, "to the victor go the spoils. Should you vanquish Veronica here, you shall have free rein to use this instrument on her unguarded flesh." Here my friend gestured to a riding crop which lay in the centre of the mock altar. "Of course, should you yield, the same privilege will be accorded to your vanquisher. Again,

should you emerge victorious you will avoid a second ordeal which I have prepared for you. Should you fail to overcome Veronica, however . . ." and the sentence was left ominously unfinished. "So, it is time for you to enter the lists. Arm yourselves." At the outset it was arranged that the two ill-matched combatants should engage with laths or wands of split bamboo. The light, whippy canes would be used like swords to deliver stinging blows to an opponent's bosom, buttocks or other tender areas. These weapons were designed to irritate but not to wound severely and by their nature would very soon be destroyed should they be much used. When, inevitably, the contestants became disarmed the adversaries must grapple barehanded until one or other yielded. My companion and I, therefore, relaxed in our chairs to enjoy the spectacle, as the sun climbed high in the deep azure sky, brightly lighting our impromptu arena. Whether spurred on by the promise of a release from further torment, by an urgent desire to avoid the riding crop or through a desire simply to please her master, I cannot tell, but Helen, at the outset fought gamely, entering the spirit of her ordeal, and scored several stinging hits on the flanks and swaying bosoms of her opponent. As was inevitable, however, Veronica's superior physique began to tell and the contest lapsed into quite a one-sided affair. Helen was soon disarmed and cowered under a rain of blows. At will now her larger adversary slashed the whippy bamboo over her breasts which were still sore from their earlier mistreatment, punished her buttocks and slashed at her thighs until the bamboo splintered and broke on her body. Helen's frame was covered in the marks of her punishment, red welts criss-crossed her back and bottom, her belly too was covered in a multitude of stripes. Tossing aside the useless stump Veronica clasped poor Helen to her, crushing the breath from her, picked her up and threw her to the ground. This action was repeated again and again until, at the last, Helen winded and crushed was forced to give best in the unequal contest. Exalting in her victory, the hot blood of the, albeit one-sided, victory still rushing in her veins, Veronica dragged the defeated Helen to her knees. Still groggy and confused from her beating, breathless and exhausted, the poor creature cast her beseeching gaze at her master. Veronica caught up the riding crop and made haste to claim her prize. "Hold!" the harsh command brought us all to our senses. "My dear Veronica," John Marsh continued didactically, "you are about to commit a number of serious errors. First, I am your master and lord of these lists. It is I who shall say when and if you may lord it over the vanquished. "Second, and more important, there is no point in inflicting further punishment on Helen in her present condition. Punishment should always tell; now your efforts will be wasted since she will not distinguish and mark the pain. Worse yet, you now risk permanent injury to a willing and valuable slave. "Finally, like good wine, giving pain is to be savoured. Pleasure postponed will be the sweeter. So let us leave Helen to recover a little lest we sacrifice our long-term pleasure to some trivial immediate gratification." So saying our host relieved his servant of the riding crop and stood to confront her. Helen, with a sigh of relief, collapsed on the ground and rested. "Now," my friend went on, "here before me is flesh much worthier of immediate chastisement. On your knees, Veronica, and bend backwards - that's right, stretch yourself out." Well knowing what was required of her, Veronica dropped to her knees and stretched back, offering herself. In this position her rock-hard breasts and flattened belly were presented undefended to her master's whim. "Perhaps this will reinforce our little lesson," my colleague remarked as he stroked the leather crop over the amazon's abundant tit-flesh. Suddenly he raised the crop and flicked it down sharply over her bosom with a loud, crisp crack, staining the ivory orbs with scarlet. Veronica winced involuntarily and bit her lip.

Methodically then my friend treated those heavy breasts to a sound whipping, first flicking his lash to the sides of the rich, warm flesh, rocking the orbs from side to side, then with great deliberation flicking the leather tip over the lustrous mounds that were thrust unwaveringly forward for his use. I marvelled at her fortitude and at the remarkable firmness of her breasts that stood like well-inflated balloons on her ribcage. Veronica, despite obviously being used to such treatment and deriving a vivid sexual excitement from it, as witnessed by the puckering of her burning nipples, was soon reduced to tears of anguish. Soon the creamy whiteness had gone and her flesh took on a fiery crimson hue. My friend put up the lash and with a wry smile enquired: "Is that the sort of whipping you would like to apply to Helen's breasts?" Through her tears Veronica nodded her agreement. Yes indeed. "Well, perhaps soon. But now run along and fetch us some refreshment. I think we had better let Helen recuperate so that the culmination of today's punishment will not be wasted on her." So we all rested a little, sitting, or in Helen's case kneeling, in the warmth of the noonday. Veronica, as she had been commanded, brought wine and food and we refreshed ourselves. Then Helen's wounds were again tended, Veronica smearing more of the soothing, restorative salve over her sore bosom and gently applying creams to her bottom and thighs where the bamboo had lacerated her skin. Here I remarked my companion's sureness of touch when inflicting punishment. Despite giving all appearance of laying on with harshness and abandon he seemed always able to stop short of the ruination of his victim, taking them to the very edge of endurance, never beyond. Even now Helen's breasts, which had seemed to have endured an overwhelming ordeal, were rapidly returning to their natural state. Of course the bruising and soreness persisted but the swelling diminished apace. At the end of a bare hour of rest Helen had sufficiently recovered to take a little food and to be judged capable of supporting her final ordeal. John Marsh spoke to her: "Now my dear, since you stand vanquished you must face the final ordeal which I have devised for you. Are you ready to meet it?" Helen gamely responded that she felt ready to meet this trial and that she relied on her master to use her with compassion. Thus assured, John Marsh led the way to the pool-house, wherein Helen had carried through the crime for which she was now suffering. Inside this building there was of course a swimming pool, heated and ready for use at any time of year. The same pool that had figured in Max and Helen's tryst. The complex also contained a sauna cabin and just beside it a small plunge pool for use after steaming in the moist heat of the sauna. Beyond lay the well-equipped gymnasium which my host used almost daily. That individual now placed Helen at the edge of the small, square plunge bath. A low mist curled above the water where the heat of the pool-house met the cold surface of the water. It was obvious that the water was far below the normal temperature used in sauna bathing. Quickly my friend bound Helen's hands behind her, crossing the wrists and securing the hands in the small of her back. Likewise her ankles were bound tightly together with leather thongs. The nature of her next ordeal had become all too obvious to her, but nevertheless Helen remained calm, almost smiling, in the face of her doom. "Yes, I can see that you understand that you are to undergo ordeal by water. You know that this pool is normally kept at a very crisp temperature - today I have made sure that the water is just a little above freezing!" With this remark my friend eased the helpless girl to the pool's edge and with a gentle shove toppled her into the bitter cold depths. A great splash attended Helen's first plunge. She surfaced spluttering and again the icy flood surged over her. As the turbulence subsided Helen bobbed up, her head just above water, having found her footing

in the narrow pool. For some minutes she was made to endure the new torment as the water chilled her to the bone. She mewled in pain as the cold bit at her. Her teeth chattered and her trembling lips were blue. Eventually we hauled her out to stand shivering and covered in goose flesh as a puddle of ice water formed about her. "Don't mind the cold," John Marsh remarked. "Now we shall warm you. Now we shall beat you dry." So saying we three each took a long leather strap and turn and turn about lashed the shivering, helpless girl as she stood still bound hand and foot. When at last she was properly dry and had withstood a considerable beating my friend called a halt and we released her and made her kneel, sobbing quietly, at his feet. "Helen," he began, "you have bravely endured every trial I have demanded of you. Your crimes of infidelity are now forgiven. I now offer you a choice. You may at once leave here and resume your old way of life. You may even continue as my wife. Or you may pursue this novitiate you are now embarked upon to its conclusion and become to me much more than wife. Which do you choose?" Helen bowed low and replied in a tremulous whisper, "My master, I thank you for punishing me and for wiping away my guilt. Now I can choose no other path than that of complete obedience and service. Use me as you wish." With these words our future course became clear and Helen's fate was sealed with her complicity.

10: LADY MARGARET John Marsh and I had often discussed his desire to set his mark upon Helen to signify her servitude and to designate her as his property. We had already constrained the young woman to wear a collar as a temporary expedient during what was essentially her novitiate, but my friend was keen that some more permanent remembrance might be fixed upon her when Helen finally was admitted to his service in the fullest sense. Some evenings over brandy we would talk over the various possibilities. We might, as I suggested, consider branding Helen using a hot iron. As a less painful alternative we might have some iron device attached to her through her pierced labia or nipples. Then again we considered the possibility of having a discreet tattoo with a suitable mark placed on her skin. There was also the problem of extending Helen's usefulness to her husband, of broadening the range of her duties. It was very well to have her act in the role of a domestic. This in itself fostered our desire to humiliate our young victim. When the servants returned, however, this occupation would be taken away. Moreover, John Marsh was not desirous of turning his attractive and well-bred wife into a mere skivvy, but rather wanted her to be capable of rendering him more intimate and pleasing services in the role of personal slave. We were, of course, capable of envisioning the types of skills that needed to be imparted to Helen to fit her out for her designated role; however we were not best fitted to train Helen in those skills. This was the field of an expert. The need, however, to secure such training for Helen had already been amply illustrated by her ineptitude when we had entertained the trio of lustful houris my friend had summoned to the house. We were therefore faced with two problems, both of which needed someone with peculiar expertise to solve them. Now that Helen had been judged to be quit of her guilt for her infidelities and had herself declared her willingness to embrace a life of subservience, the solution to these problems had become a pressing need. Fortunately I knew of and was intimately acquainted with one such person who possessed skills in both of the areas in question. She was Lady Margaret Lorca, or Maggie among friends, a neighbour of mine on St Lucia. Lady Margaret was the youngest daughter of an English baronet and so had a real claim to her

appellation. Her breeding was thus of the English minor aristocracy; her money, however, came by way of her marriage to an Argentine cattle baron. He had died some years before and now Lady Margaret chose to live in some luxury, surrounded by willing slaves, both male and female, on St Lucia. She had lived there for some years, as I say, but beforehand, during the course of an eventful career, she had been the proprietor of a brothel in New Orleans. She was well acquainted, therefore, with what best pleases a man and also had some experience in passing on that knowledge to the ingenue. When it became clear that Helen had reached a point in her training where she could benefit from Maggie's experience, I telephoned my friend on St Lucia. She needed no persuasion and was ready to leave on the instant to join us. She promised to take the next available flight to London and, as good as her word, was with us at John Marsh's country estate within forty-eight hours. While Helen busied herself with Lady Margaret's luggage, carrying the heavy suitcases to the comfortable rooms we had set aside for our guest, I had a chance to introduce my old friend from St Lucia to my new friend and colleague. Maggie, none the worse for her long journey, looked radiant and was certainly eager to get on with the task of educating Helen at the earliest opportunity. Maggie is a tall, lissom brunette, with a dancer's long legs and a dancer's supple body, slim but well proportioned. Her handsome looks were well complemented by her golden West Indian suntan. I could see that John Marsh was very taken with our new helper. Straight after we had taken tea to refresh our new guest following her journey, Maggie took Helen off to get acquainted. For the next few hours the two women, pupil and teacher,, remained closeted in the 'schoolroom' that John Marsh had set aside. That evening we made a lively party at dinner, which contrasted with the more sober times we two men had passed of late. Maggie, as I knew she would, proved to be gay and charming company at our meal. Her ready wit and cultured beauty adorned the gathering and provoked John Marsh and myself to give of our best likewise. Helen too surpassed herself. The coq au vin that we all enjoyed with good appetite was excellent. It seemed that now she was accustomed to the role, all the benefits of her expensively got finishing school education were being brought into play, not least of which was her training in cordon bleu cookery. Naturally the Swiss school had only set out to inculcate some rudiments - after all, they aimed to produce a 'lady', equipped with social graces, not a gourmet chef. Nevertheless even that small portion of knowledge was of use. Our meal drew to a close and we lounged in our chairs replete with good food and savouring the magnificent vintage port which circulated the table. John Marsh dismissed Helen, sending her off to bed with the observation that she should rest so as to be properly attentive in class the next day. Thus we three were left alone and it was obviously time to hear Lady Margaret's first impressions of her young charge. Maggie lit a long, thin cheroot and inhaled deeply. She smiled across the table at me and remarked lightly: "So, my friend, I see you still play the gruff curmudgeon." I admit that I blushed slightly, well knowing that my old friend from St Lucia was thoroughly acquainted with every aspect of my character and knew that I was not always as hard-hearted as I often behaved. "It is but a mask, as you well know. But it seems to suit the situation in most cases. You of all people know and understand my preference for the dominant role in relation to women. How then could I behave any differently? But you too know how I adore you all." "Come, my dear, you protest a little too much. Anyway, your mask, as you call it, has been most effective with Helen. She is much in awe of you, which I think has contributed a lot to her present state of development." With this Maggie reached for the decanter and helped herself to another glass of the fine, purplered port before passing it on to our host. She settled back in her chair, sipped at her glass and

continued: "Now that Helen and I have had some time to get acquainted I dare say you would like to hear my opinions on her . . . re . . . response to the training process you have put her through. And of course you want to know if I can add the required finishing touches." John Marsh and I both nodded our agreement and our charming guest went on, drawing on her cheroot and sipping at her wine from time to time as her discourse unfolded. "First I must tell you that I am both surprised and delighted at the level of Helen's development. Her predilection for submission and humiliation must have been near to the surface for you all to have achieved so much in so few weeks. And I say 'all' advisedly because it is very clear to me that Helen is taking a willing part in the process. "I have only rarely encountered a girl who is so passionately fond and derives such intense pleasure from the submissive role. I can quite believe - as you have told me - that she regularly achieves climax under punishment. I, myself, tried her mettle this afternoon and found the pitch of arousal she achieved quite satisfactory. "It is true, as you both well know, that there are many women (and indeed men) who love to be subjected to pain and humiliation for short periods and who derive much sexual pleasure from such treatment. Helen is one of those rarer (but not unknown) creatures who prefer to live their lives in the submissive role, gaining deep and wide-ranging happiness from what society at large would consider to be very perverse sources. "Of course, such as Helen need special treatment. Above all they are reliant on finding a skilled and indulgent master who can keep the bounds of endurance and experience for them. For, be certain, Helen will willingly undergo any trial to please you - it is you, her master, who must set the limits." At this my friend John Marsh nodded sagely and assured Lady Margaret that he was well aware of his responsibilities. He went on to speak of his love for his wife and to attest that his aim in all of this present endeavour was to bring Helen to a state of life which he knew would be as pleasing to her as it was to him. He finished by stating that if Helen should then or at any time wish to relinquish the submissive role she now fulfilled then she should have her wish without rancour on his part. Thus assured, Lady Margaret resumed: "So having confirmed that which must have been only too obvious to you, we come to the question which most closely involves myself. Having seen that Helen desires to live the life of obedience and submission, you wish her to be trained to serve you, to become as it were the chief wife of your harem. In short an odalisque." Our host here indicated his agreement by a slight inclination of his head and a slight grin of satisfaction. Maggie spoke on: "Certainly, Helen is only too willing and will delight in the role. She is without doubt an intelligent and apt pupil and could acquire the necessary skills - indeed she has many already. Her finishing school has accomplished a lot there. But can I teach her the rest?" Here Maggie turned to me and with a twinkle in her eye, laid her hand on my arm. "I am sure my dear friend here has told you much about me, has given me a sufficient reference. Otherwise why should I be sitting here? Nevertheless, I think it is right that you learn of my qualifications from my own lips. "I propose to relate a certain incident from my past life. You will find it interesting and possibly even arousing. Just the thing to round off an excellent evening's entertainment. It treats of sexual preferences which some would consider as bizarre as Helen's and thereby shows that there are many strange aspects to sexual love. Indeed it is a catalogue as diverse as mankind itself. Finally, of course, it will allow you to learn for yourself a little of my experience and capabilities."

We settled down in our chairs, legs thrust out before us beneath the table which was still littered with the remains of our meal. The decanter of port went round again and all three of us refreshed our glasses. Lady Margaret tasted her wine and resumed her tale. "I am sure that my friend here," and again she gently laid a hand on my arm, "has told you that among other experiences in my life I was once the owner of a brothel in New Orleans. "Now, the gentlemen of that fine city are most discerning and demanding when it comes to the pleasures of the flesh. Food and drink must be of the best, as must be the female company. It follows, then, that for a house of pleasure to succeed in those parts the quality of its entertainment must be of the finest. "I am sure that you realise that a competent courtesan is made, not born. Of course, nature must do her part by way of providing the necessary physical charms and a certain natural inclination for the work. But all that pleasures a man does not come naturally; those are things that come by experience and training. Now I made it my business to school my girls most thoroughly and made sure that my male guests had nothing but the best. That's why my establishment enjoyed such a high reputation and is still unrivalled in New Orleans to this day. "I spent the year that followed my dear Felipe's passing in a whirl of business, selling off the estates in Argentina and liquidating his other assets. I was sure Felipe would not have minded; he knew well that cattle-rearing was not my passion. At last everything had been turned into hard cash or the next best thing, bearer bonds, and I was left at something of a loose end, not knowing in which direction to point my life. "Now the provisions of Felipe's will came to the rescue. I am sure the dear man foresaw the eventuality and had arranged things accordingly. Our marriage had been completely open. Felipe knew and indulged all my sexual predilections and was fully aware of the pleasure I took in continually extending the bounds of my experience. We had both had and indeed had shared several lovers of both sexes. So it was that the last provision of his will led me to a new and fascinating experience which so exactly coincided with my own inclinations. "In the last paragraph of the will dear Felipe had directed that I should, in person, deliver certain family heirlooms into the hands of his mother's sister, his elderly aunt, Agnes Lorca. Having made dispositions for my own financial wellbeing, I was thus able to carry out this final duty towards my dead husband and so I took myself off to New Orleans to visit Aunt Agnes, who must have been in her early seventies. "As you will have gathered, I was no innocent and I was only mildly surprised to find that Aunt Agnes was the proprietor of a first-rate brothel. I agreed to stay for a month and by the time Agnes finally retired had in fact been there for two years. During that time Agnes taught me all she knew and I garnered up further insights both by observation and experience. Thus, when the establishment passed under my full control I had learned the business thoroughly and the male and female of the species held precious few surprises for me. "By this time Agnes and I between us had built our 'house' into one of the finest in the city. Every night we entertained private parties of notables. A general levee was held in the public room, all provided with fine wines, good food, hard liquor and conducive female company. I would also cater for those gentlemen who required a more discreet and intimate evening's entertainment or who wanted an experience somewhat out of the ordinary. "Quite naturally, in my way of business I was always on the lookout for new recruits to my team of young women. But of course they each would need to be exceptionally attractive and potentially adept in the arts of pleasing. This fact was well known and it was therefore no surprise when an elderly couple, accompanied by a young girl of about eighteen, appeared one morning at the front door. "I had them brought into my private sitting room and looked them over. The old couple were shabbily dressed, the man incompletely shaved and lacking some teeth, his wife peering, owl-like, through thick glasses as she held tightly to the arm of the girl. Now she drew my eye and I could see that here was potential. She too was shabbily dressed but her milky complexion, lightly dusted with freckles, her slim but well-rounded figure and her long, rich auburn hair, which was drawn into a

long plait, all held promise. More than this, she had a proud way of carrying herself that spoke of breeding. With the right grooming, understated make-up and fine clothes, she could be a real prize. "Haltingly, as though unused to stringing so many words together at one time, but certainly not through shame or diffidence, the old man made plain his case. The girl was their niece - the child of a younger brother, long since deceased. They had brought her up since she was five years old, living out in the bayous, remote from civilisation and any contact with other people. Now they - the old man and his wife - were getting old and the girl, Lisette, had to be found a place in the world. All three of them believed she would have a good future in a high-class 'house' and had heard of mine. Then, almost in passing, the old man mentioned a most interesting fact. She was a virgin. Beautiful, young and, having lived sequestered from menfolk, a virgin. "He had my full interest. Some men, and I knew several, would pay well to have a virgin. In fact I knew of just the man. I turned to Lisette who had remained silent all the while and asked: 'So Lisette, you are a virgin and you wish to work for me in my 'house'?' " 'Yes, madam,' she almost whispered and I noticed that she had deep, bewitching green eyes. " 'And do you know what that means?' " 'Yes, certainly. To go to bed with men and to fuck with them.' "A little crude perhaps but she had the idea of it. " 'Good, then let me have a look at you. Take off your clothes.' "Without a trace of diffidence she obeyed, stripping off her tired dress and undergarments until she stood naked. She made no attempt to cover herself, just stood with her arms at her side letting me look my fill. "She was a charming creature and no mistake. Her fine buttermilk skin was lightly freckled. Her tight conical breasts stood firm and proud, the rosy nipples tip-tilted and straining upwards. Her legs were long and shapely, her belly flat and firm. She turned slowly at my command showing me her nice, taut and well-fleshed bottom and her unblemished back. I reached out and loosened the long plait drawing her fine Titian hair out into a curtain of glistening red that covered her shoulders. "Without undue dickering I agreed a suitable fee with the old couple and they left well pleased. I was happy too, since I expected to recoup that cost three times over when Lisette yielded up her maidenhead to the client I had in mind. "But first I planned to invest quite a lot of time and effort in the development of my new acquisition. "I had, myself, gained enough experience, by this time, to realise that deflowering a virgin is a classic male fantasy. Although important, the breaching of a girl's maidenhead is not of itself the paramount aspect of the proceeding. Rather, much depends on the air of innocence the girl projects, on the overall atmosphere and, of course, on her physical charms which must be young and tender as though freshly sprung to fruition. By converse the whole affair could be ruined should the object of my client's attentions be so innocent as to be left frigid with fright at the mere approach of a male and thereby be unable to give herself ardently enough. In sum, what was needed was a show of innocence rather than the true substance and this can only come through careful training. "So I took Lisette into my bed, first showing her the delights of female caresses and the delicious response of her own body. She was a voracious and avid pupil and besides a delightful bedfellow. "Then I allowed her to share my current lover - a well-hung fellow of boundless energy, with a sure touch. Between us - and I mean that in the literal sense she experienced every aspect of love save the last and ultimate caress. By the rime we had finished she was no stranger to the male physique and gloried in handling my lover's heavy phallus, lavishing kisses on it with greedy fervour. Likewise she knew her own sexuality and how to use it to pleasure her partner. "Then, of course, I had to show her how to dissemble and to mask her new found knowledge with

a show of naiveté. Here too she showed herself a perfect pupil and soon proved herself able to play the virginal innocent and the worldly coquette by turns. "As Lisette's education drew to a conclusion I allowed her to mix with the other girls of the house, to assist them at their toilet and to wait upon them while they entertained their gentlemen friends. So her training benefited by a breadth of exposure while I brought to a conclusion the delicate negotiation for the taking of her maidenhead. "The gentleman I had had in mind from the outset - let us call him Judge Henry - was everything one would expect of a Southern gentleman from a background of old money. Moreover, I knew him to be a skilled and considerate lover who would bring pleasure to Lisette's first experiences. He had often asked me to be on the lookout for an attractive virgin that he might have the pleasure of initiating and now I was happy to be able to assist him. After some initial haggling, almost for the sake of form, he proved himself to be most generous in agreeing a fee and thus a time and place were set. "The day, or more exactly the evening, appointed came and I made the necessary arrangements. A private room was set aside, lit by candles and the air scented with orange blossom. I provided a couple of bottles of champagne, well chilled, and other choice refreshments besides. When Judge Henry arrived there was nothing left for me to do but retire discreetly and watch Lisette and her guest through the one-way glass mirror that was placed on one wall of the apartment. Oh yes, Mr Marsh, yours is not the only house to be equipped with such refinements. "Lisette looked a picture of virginal innocence as she allowed the Judge to seat her on a convenient chaise longue and help her to a glass of champagne. With demurely lowered eyes she listened as he spoke softly to her, putting her at her ease with some inconsequential remarks. I had dressed her in a simple, girlish dress of white linen, chastely cut but complementing the juvenile promise of her figure most eloquently. Her sweet, childish features were framed by the rich auburn of her hair. The whole effect was of total naiveté and girlish beauty, set off by just a touch of wickedness glinting in those green eyes. "The lovers talked and drank a while, the judge helping his companion to some choice sweetmeat from the table. lightly he caressed her, stroking her shining hair and running his hands lightly over her face, her shoulders, her body. With practised hands he unzipped her dress and drew it down over her arms, baring her upper body. "Lisette, to my delight, played her part well and, as if unused to such familiarity, blushed and tried to cover her bosom with her hands. Gently but firmly the judge removed them and feasted his eyes on the small fleshy cones, which, now that they were revealed, added to the sweet girlishness of Lisette's appearance. "Bending his head, the judge ran his tongue over each flaccid nipple until they were both brought to attention. His hands cupped and caressed her as Lisette closed her eyes, savouring the sensation of his touch. "At last Judge Henry released her tit-flesh and helped Lisette to remove the dress completely and to draw her white, lacy panties over her buttocks and down her legs to leave her naked but for her white stockings, held taut by silken garters. Now she stood motionless in front of him as his mouth tasted the flesh of her belly and the furry swell of her mount, while his hands roved luxuriously over the soft swell of her buttocks and the svelte flesh of her thighs. "With a softly uttered command he told her to help him out of his clothes. It was truly delightful to see how Lisette again feigned innocence but at the last deftly stripped him naked. Again they sat side by side on the chaise. The judge's tool lay half awake on his thigh, long and thick and slightly threatening. He took Lisette's hand, inviting her to caress him, to bring the beast fully to life from repose. Again she protested, but just enough, before reaching out and, with a fluttering touch of a butterfly, softly stroked his manhood. "Steadily then, as if coming to enjoy what she had first been afraid to do, she handled his throbbing penis until it had attained the full extent of its tumescence. Eyes closed, she bent forward, as if experimenting, and kissed the engorged head, then licked at it. She seemed to have enjoyed the taste, went back for more and soon her mouth had engulfed the swollen cock.

"Meanwhile Judge Henry had paddled his fingers into her moist cunt and found that she was ready for what he proposed to do. With a gentle touch he raised her face from his groin and made her lie back, legs parted, on the chaise, placing a bolster beneath her hips to raise her a little. "Thus all was arranged and the judge placed himself between her legs and presented his rockhard phallus at the porch-way of her womanhood. gently but firmly he lodged himself there, pushing forward in her slickly lubricated tunnel which gave easily to receive him, until he encountered a slight resistance and Lisette winced a little. He held steady, working himself halfway inside her, his cock brushing Lisette's clitoris as the girl groaned and mumbled with pleasure. He worked at her thus until Lisette was lost in a pleasurable delirium, then, firmly grasping her hips, he thrust home. "Lisette felt nothing but delight, the pure delight of being filled by thick, hard manliness. She squealed and clasped her legs about him as the judge fucked her, his hips thrusting at her as she clung to him. Lisette yelled throatily as she climaxed and still he pistoned at her. Three more times she squealed with lust and at the third he emptied his loins into her. "They rested for a while then, Lisette curled in his arms on the chaise. Soon, however, Judge Henry's vigour returned and with some assistance from Lisette his manhood again reached a swollen state which called urgently for release. "Now the judge purposed (as we had bargained) to take away the virginity of Lisette's dear, tight bumhole. Again she protested most charmingly, but did not overdo it. Soon she was on all fours on the chaise longue, her bottom presented to her ravisher. "Carefully he greased his weapon, using some butter from the table, and then thoroughly lubricated his victim's bumhole. First he parted her buttocks and probed at the tight, puckered entrance, working his forefinger inside her as Lisette discovered that here too was another delightful experience. Then, having loosened her, the judge lodged his weapon in her anal ring and with a single thrust rammed himself home. "Lisette howled with the sudden pain but gradually this was supplanted by pure pleasure as her lover, now buried in her fundament, fucked her arse until his seed erupted into her bowels. "After that evening Lisette became one of my regular girls in the house. However, she still retained an air of virginal innocence which, coupled with her small-breasted, girlish looks, made her attractive to a certain sort of gentleman who prized such features. Soon she had quite a circle of regular callers, among whom Judge Henry continued to figure. In fact he became quite a frequent caller, visiting Lisette at least once a week. "It is not unknown, of course, for girls who work in houses of pleasure to find themselves husbands among the clientele. Such was the case with Lisette. I admit that I was not a bit surprised when, after a few months, Judge Henry approached me and offered to buy out her contract. Quite naturally I refused such payment, telling the judge to apply the money as a sort of dowry on Lisette's behalf. So they were married and Judge Henry took his new bride off to his estate in the country. "I had thought that that was to be the last I should see of Lisette and my erstwhile client. I was a little taken aback when a bare three months after the wedding the happy couple came to visit me early one afternoon. "The story they told me was amusing and to one with less knowledge of the richness and variety of human sexuality would have sounded most bizarre. It seemed that Lisette missed the life of the 'house' with its opportunity for encounters with many different partners. She found that she was unable to restrict herself to one man and one man alone. "Fortunately the judge himself had formed a liking for seeing his lovely and still virginal-seeming wife in the arms of other men. In fact his tastes were even more refined since he wished, above all, to watch while she was ravaged and defiled by a number of anonymous strangers. Lisette of course was willing to please her husband in this way, since in so doing she would secure pleasure for herself. "So they had come to me to ask that I should arrange matters, and I was happy to assist them. And so, a few days later, as Judge Henry, accompanied by one of my girls, looked on, Lisette met

four of my most discreet clients whom I had taken great care to select, in a private room in the house. "At first matters proceeded with all the decorum of any social gathering in the Deep South. The gentlemen helped Lisette and her female companion to glasses of champagne and made polite conversation as they smoked their cigars. Soon, however, both young ladies were helped from their clothes and, naked, Lisette was passed from one gentleman to the next. As she sat on each lap in turn each man took his opportunity to fondle her charms, to stroke the smooth, soft flesh of her thighs, to probe a finger or two into her moistening cunt. "Then with little ceremony Lisette was made to lie on the table that occupied the centre of the room, with her legs held high. All four men stripped and one after the other thrust into Lisette's cunt, fucking her hard until each had spilled his seed into her overflowing sex or over her heaving belly. "Lisette was then helped down and, kneeling, was made to take each one of their tools, which were smeared with jism and her own sex juices, into her mouth to suck and lick until they had again attained a state of hard virility. "Lisette performed everything that was demanded of her with very obvious enjoyment. Her husband also was clearly enjoying the spectacle. He too was naked and had embedded his excited weapon in the cunt of his companion who now straddled him as he sat on an upright chair, observing everything over her shoulder. "Now the four men were hard and ready to enjoy Lisette again. One lay on the floor and the girl was made to impale herself on his uprearing weapon. A second entered her bumhole lodging himself deep in her fundament. A third occupied her mouth while the fourth had to content himself with rubbing his tool over her tit-flesh or thrusting at her armpits. Vigorously they used her to sate their lusts, each working at the niche that fell to his lot. Lisette, for her part, was in ecstasy, climaxing again and again as the male flesh thrust in her and against her. The men came off, grunting and moaning with lust, flooding her cunt or splashing her flesh with their creamy emissions. Then places were changed and the heaving, panting tableau continued until all were exhausted and Lisette was covered - hair, breasts, eyes, belly and thighs, all dripping with their jism. "Such events became a regular thing in the 'house', and when I finally retired who else should I sell to but the judge and Lisette? "And so I see that my little tale has had an arousing effect on you!" Lady Margaret remarked, observing the obvious swelling at our host's groin. She got up and stepped towards him as he lounged at full stretch in his dining chair. With a few deft movements she released him from his clothing, bringing his tumescent, purple-domed weapon into full view. Delicately she fondled him, caressing the hard ridged flesh and smearing the head with the oily effusion that started from the tip. Taking a firm grasp of him, with a few strokes she brought him to a climax, catching the gouts of cream that spilled from him in the palm of her hand. Luxuriously she lapped the gooey substance with her tongue and swallowed it down with every appearance of intense enjoyment. "Now we all have much to do tomorrow. So away to our beds and to sleep." I have never before or since seen my friend so mastered by a woman. Without demur, as obedient as one of his own slaves, he rose and escorted Maggie to her bedroom, leaving her with a courteous "Goodnight'.

11: HELEN TRANSFORMED On the day following Lady Margaret's arrival Helen was again entrusted to her new tutor's care to begin her training. We men, meanwhile, busied ourselves with our other interests: John Marsh was away on an extended business trip to Amsterdam and I myself was busy with my studies and off in pursuit of some rare texts to London. On his return from his tiring trip some days later John Marsh was the first to enjoy the fruits of

Lady Margaret's labours. As he entered the house he was greeted by a humble and smiling Helen, dressed in a white silk kimono. She relieved him of his cases and papers and, supervised by Lady Margaret, conducted him to his private rooms. Helen brought him a relaxing drink and made him comfortable in an armchair. Kneeling at his feet she carefully removed his shoes and socks and began sensuously to massage his feet, sending deliciously relaxing sensations through his body. John Marsh gave himself up gratefully to this treatment and closed his eyes in total relaxation. To complete this part of her ministrations Helen brought a small bowl and carefully washed and dried her master's feet, before placing soft slippers upon them. Helen then hurried to draw a hot bath for her husband, charging it with sweetly scented essences until it foamed exuberantly. She assisted him to remove his clothes, then led him naked to the bathroom and handed him into the pleasantly hot tub. John Marsh relaxed into the sweet smelling foam, luxuriating as the water caressed his skin, drawing the tiredness from his limbs. Helen removed the kimono and stood naked in the steamy atmosphere and in a soft voice requested her husband's permission to wash and shave him. Naturally he gave his consent. First, kneeling naked beside the bath, Helen lathered her master's beard and with the utmost care shaved him, finally wrapping a hot towel around his face to cleanse and tighten the pores. Then she lathered his chest and back, washing away the stains of his travels. Finally John Marsh stood in the bath while Helen lathered his lower body, his legs, his buttocks and, carefully, his virile member, running her soap-filled hands luxuriantly over his body. At last he stepped from the bath and Helen enveloped him in a large towel, vigorously drying his skin. She then requested that he lay supine on a leather-topped bench while she massaged his body with aromatic oils. Her hands ran gently over his body, kneading and invigorating his tired muscles, his skin becoming slick with the oil. Helen asked her master to turn over, to allow her to attend to his front, which John Marsh readily did, reclining pleasurably on the couch. Helen applied more oil to his chest and again began to massage his body sensually, her naked breasts now brushing lightly against his chest in a most erotic fashion. Under such treatment it would have been impossible but that his virile member should rear up, fiercely erect, demanding relief. Helen bent her head, about to apply her mouth to his fleshy hardness, when Lady Margaret intervened: "No, Helen. Such a pleasure is not yet for you. Not until you are properly marked as your master's property. Stand aside and I will attend to his need." Meekly Helen stood to one side, yielding her place above her husband's uprearing hardness to Lady Margaret. She in turn bent over and snared John Marsh's manhood between her soft red lips, licking the silken tip, drawing the rod of flesh into her wet mouth. John Marsh murmured his appreciation of such treatment, raising his member up towards Maggie's lips. Then Lady Margaret engulfed him fully, her cheeks bulging as she sucked hard on the fleshy rod. Her tongue lapped at the hard salty flesh, teased the veined underside. She partially released his hardness, then plunged her head down again gulping at the flesh as the crown collided with the back of her throat. Then suddenly he was coming, his weapon throbbed, pumping jet after jet of his salty, creamy spend, filling her mouth, splashing into her throat. Breathlessly, Lady Margaret gulped down every drop, swallowing his seed, then with a gentle 'plop' she released his waning member from between her pursed lips. Helen was then permitted to finish her massage of her husband and master, and to assist him to dress in readiness for dinner later that evening. Then both novice and her tutor withdrew, allowing John Marsh some time to savour his welcome. Later that evening over dinner, Lady Margaret was pleased to remark on how willing and apt a pupil she had found Helen to be. She was most taken with her young charge and hinted that if ever John Marsh should want to visit St Lucia, both he and Helen would be most welcome guests. If, otherwise, he wished to lend his slave to her for some time she would add the final polish to the work she had already commenced. As I have already mentioned, Maggie lived on the island surrounded

by an entourage of slaves, both male and female, some temporary, some permanent, who catered for her every whim. It was clear that she relished the idea of Helen amongst this throng. As Helen served an appetising dinner, Lady Margaret gave us a full account of the instruction she had been able to impart to our young pupil over the last few days. It was clear, she remarked, that Helen was anxious to serve her master and had avidly absorbed the knowledge that Maggie could impart. The homecoming welcome and refreshing treatment John Marsh had experienced was just a token of the learning Helen had acquired. Lady Margaret assured us that a firm basis had now been established, and Helen now needed practice and experience in serving her master to round out her education. Our meal at an end, Lady Margaret intimated that some special relaxation was now called for. She told us to wait a while while she took Helen off to the Blue Room to prepare. We were to finish our cigars and coffee and then to join them. So, while we passed the time my friend regaled me with an account of his trip to Amsterdam, both the business and the pleasure sides. As a matter of fact he was able to pass on some rewarding information concerning a certain Dutch bond issue which I later used to profit by some fifty thousand pounds. We passed a pleasant half-hour in this way. Then, our cigars finished, we followed Lady Margaret's lead and mounted the stairs to the Blue Room. We were greeted by a delightful and wholly erotic sight. Lady Margaret had removed the skirt and blouse which she had worn at dinner and now stood dressed in the electric blue kimono she had worn earlier in the day. Helen stood beside her, naked and glistening with a sweet-smelling oil with which Lady Margaret had anointed her from top to toe. The soft lighting of the room played on her slickly shining body as the heady erotic aroma of the oil filled the room. About Helen's neck Lady Margaret had placed a deep collar of yellow gold, replacing the velvetcovered steel band. At her wrists and ankles were heavy bracelets of similar yellow gold, and a heavy gold stud had been fixed to ornament her navel. The deep golden sheen of the heavy metal jewellery complemented the pale sheen of Helen's firm, naked body. Lady Margaret told us to be seated and we settled ourselves into two deep leather armchairs which had been placed for the purpose in a direct line with the whipping post. Maggie then directed Helen to fetch us some refreshment so we should be comfortable as the 'entertainment' unfolded. As Helen moved about the room in obedience to her temporary mistress's commands, the heavy metal ornaments with which she was adorned jingled musically. It was then that we noticed that our charming slave's costume had been further embellished by the addition of tiny bells which decorated her toes and were fixed by means of golden nipple cups to her breasts. It was thus that all her movements were accompanied by the tinkling of bells. Her oiled skin shimmered in the soft light as it played over her nudity. When all our wants in the way of drinks had been supplied and we were settled, waiting in glorious anticipation, Lady Margaret directed Helen to fetch the chosen instrument of correction. Helen, bells a-jingle, buttocks and back gleaming under the sheen of the aromatic oil whose heady scent filled the air, fetched a velvet cushion and, kneeling, presented it to her mistress. Then we too could see, coiled tightly on the soft velvet like a snake ready to strike, a martinet with a gold-mounted handle, which was tonight to be used to torment Helen's lovely flesh. "Now Helen, position yourself against the whipping post and prepare yourself," Lady Margaret directed. "I don't think we shall need to secure you this evening. Do you agree?" "No, mistress, if it so pleases you," replied Helen softly, with, I thought, a slight tremor in her voice. Was it fear of the pain to come? Or anticipation of the release to follow? Or yet some feeling that this was in some way a special trial of her progress on the path of obedience? Helen approached the whipping post and, placing her hands on the manacles fixed to the sides, braced her dully gleaming body against it, proffering her oiled buttocks to the cruel bite of the whip. She held her whole self taut, her bottom tightly clenched against the expected pain.

Taking her time, letting Helen settle into the desired posture, Lady Margaret rose and took the martinet from its velvet repose, fingering the thongs contemplatively. "That's right - a hollow in your back. Stick out your bum, my dear. Part your legs - just like that," directed Lady Margaret as Helen adjusted her posture accordingly. First Maggie warmed Helen a little, whirling the martinet so that the lashes just tickled the underside of Helen's protruding globes. The girl wiggled her bottom as the leather stroked at her, the flesh rippling delightfully. Then Lady Margaret stroked the lashes over Helen's fesses, teasing, tickling. "Ready, Helen!" she called and the lash was swishing through the air, biting across Helen's bumflesh, coiling about her flanks in a bitter embrace. Helen shuddered under the impact, the bells and the golden jewellery tinkling in musical counterpoint to the sharp "craaak!" of leather on flesh. Again, Lady Margaret drew back her arm and let fly the lash. The leather thongs slashed across Helen's quivering fesses, leaving a deep red blotch, sister to the stripe left by the first blow. Helen tossed her head against the pain, arching her back. Her breasts shuddered and the music of the tiny bells filled the aromatic air. John Marsh and I relaxed into the comfortable armchairs, enjoying the highly erotic and stimulating sight of the kimono-clad Maggie, very slim and feminine, punishing the ripe, slickly oiled body of our young slave. The heady musky smell of the oil pervaded the air, charging it with latent sexuality. Helen's eyes were now tight shut, and her small white teeth bit into her lower lip as she struggled to cope with the bite of the lash. Lady Margaret now adopted a slow and deliberate rhythm, applying the lash over the whole area of Helen's bottom and fleshy upper thigh. Unrestrained as she was, Helen jerked her body under the biting leather thongs as they tormented her flesh. Her ample breasts juddered and the bells tinkled wildly, but she uttered no sound save the deep panting and mewling in her throat that denoted her growing sexual arousal. Soon Helen's bottom was covered in red stripes. Maggie had taken care to place each stroke on a new, virgin area, so that the trails of the lash's progress stood distinct on the quivering flesh of Helen's bottom. Now Lady Margaret got into her stride, treating Helen's tortured bottom to a really hearty thrashing, and us to the sight and sound of Helen bucking and jigging, the little bells jingling, as the harsh lash played over her flesh. Now it was impossible to avoid crossing or covering the marks already made by earlier strokes, doubling the pain, intensifying the hurt. Some thirty or forty strokes of the martinet were inflicted on Helen's aching arse as the tiny bells tinkled crazily and Helen wriggled and squirmed under the lash. Her bottom was now streaked with heavy ridges as the continuing punishment aggravated the original weals. Still the young woman held tightly to the whipping post and suffered her punishment bravely as the itch in her cunt intensified. Lady Margaret, satisfied with Helen's conduct under the lash, desisted and allowed our charming slave to rise and to thank her tormentor, as was our custom. "Now Helen," she said, "you may stand and watch while we three satisfy another of our appetites." So saying she released the sash of her kimono and with a shrug of her shoulders sloughed the silken garment from her body. She stood naked in the soft light. Her slim, shapely body was tanned by the caress of the West Indian sun - no trace of white flesh marred the deep, even gold of her skin. Her firm breasts, like golden apples, tip-tilted and capped with cinnamon nipples, jutted proudly, rising and falling with her breathing. No trace of a pubic nest adorned her clean-shaven mons. John Marsh and myself were soon naked likewise and joined the lovely Maggie on the great fourposter bed, which was still covered by the black satin sheet. Helen, as she had been commanded, stood at the foot of the bed looking on with a longing gaze.

Lady Margaret straddled John Marsh's shoulders as he lay prone on the bed, presenting her shaven pussy to his mouth. With both hands she parted her cunt-lips and urged him to lick out her juicy hole in language that was down to earth and basic. He strained forward between Maggie's tanned thighs tonguing her yawning gash, plunging his tongue into her womanhood, lapping up her musky juices. Maggie threw her head back, luxuriating as his busy tongue laved her sex, slurping at her copious juices, sending electric thrills through her loins. She edged forward, pressing her cunt hard against his face, forcing his nose hard against her pubic bone. John Marsh's questing tongue found the tiny erect nub of her clitoris, lashing delicately at the sensitive tip of Maggie's sensual being. As his tongue sent shivers of sexual electricity through her she squealed in delight. As John Marsh continued to tongue out Lady Margaret's foaming orifice, teasing her clitty towards the inevitable climax, I knelt behind her, running my throbbing erection into her bum-cleft, clasping her to me, trapping the hard meat between her soft bumcheeks and my belly. I worked my rampant tool in this delightful channel, feeling Maggie flex her bumcheeks, grasping at my weapon, feeling her bum-flesh against my abdomen. I reached around her, grasping her small firm breasts, hard with lust, taking one pert titty in each hand. At first gently kneading the suave breastflesh, then with greater urgency mashing her bosom under my firm hands, my erect penis continuing to thrust at her bottom. Then, releasing the passionfirmed titflesh, I took her nipples between thumb and fingers, squeezing and pinching the engorged buds, making them stand stiff like ripe berries. John Marsh meanwhile was working his tongue manfully inside Maggie's womanhood until at last she came, shrieking her delight as a shuddering climax washed over her. She clamped her pussy hard to his sucking mouth as she squealed in heady abandon. When her ecstasy had abated Lady Margaret dismounted from John Marsh and lay back on the bed, panting and flushed, her legs wide apart, inviting. He was now exuberantly erect, the fierce red dome of his organ standing proud of the loosely rolled-back foreskin. He needed no bidding; he climbed between Maggie's legs and was embedded in her oozing cunt up to the hilt in an instant. She in turn clasped her legs about him as he began to fuck in and out of her sex, his coarse pubic thatch grazing her hairless mount as he thrust deep inside her. I now placed myself at the head of the bed, proffering my hard penis to Lady Margaret's lips. She, shuddering under the impact of my companion's intense fucking, put out her tongue and licked the crown of my weapon, dipping her tongue into the tiny eyelet, tasting the droplets of fluid that oozed there, then tonguing the glans where the foreskin had folded back. I edged gently forward and her mouth was engulfing my whole hard length. Her teeth grazed the crown as I thrust throat deep Maggie gagged slightly, then relaxed and accommodated me, sucking hard on my lusty engine as I started rhythmically to fuck her mouth, thrusting deep into her at each stroke. John Marsh now squeezed her teats unmercifully, torturing the tit-flesh as he, complementing my own thrusts, plunged violently in and out of her sex. With a cry he buried himself deep inside her, womb deep, and his climax was upon him. He clasped Maggie tightly to him as he spurted copious libations of his seed deep, deep inside her. Quickly, I withdrew my cock from between Maggie's lips and as John Marsh withdrew likewise, I supplanted him at the porch of her womanhood, plunging my hardness into her glorious wetness, charged with her juices and my friend's abundant spending. John Marsh in his turn took up my position and offered his now wilting organ to Lady Margaret's eager mouth. She took his waning manhood, liberally coated with their mutual juices and sucked avidly as I fucked at her liquid sex until I too added my creamy tribute, my boiling seed coursing from me, coming deep in her sex. Temporarily spent, we three collapsed on the crumpled satin sheets and again became aware of Helen, who had, as she had been bidden, stood to observe the lascivious spectacle. Her face was a picture of pent-up frustration. She almost wept with her need for sexual release.

Languidly, the torpor of sexual satisfaction upon her, Lady Margaret turned to our host who was idly fondling her buttocks. "I think our poor Helen deserves some small relief tonight. What do you think, John my dear?" "She certainly has borne up bravely under the martinet and her costume has afforded us some stimulation. Yes, I agree - whatever you will, Maggie!" Lady Margaret graciously turned to our slave. "Helen, you have our permission to give yourself a little relief to your obvious need. Sit there and show us how you frig yourself." With a look approaching ecstasy, Helen settled herself in one of the armchairs in full view of her husband, Lady Margaret and myself as we reclined on the dishevelled bed. She sprawled in the chair, legs wide apart, affording us an uninterrupted view of her sex nestling among the thatch of her black pubic bush. With carmine-tipped fingers she parted her sex lips and plunged one, two, three fingers into her hot wet pussy. She groaned as the first thrills of her frigging coursed through her body. Head back, eyes shut, her tongue running wetly over her lips she frigged her fingers in and out of her sex. Her free hand squeezed her tit-flesh, kneading the ripe sacs. As her sticky fingers worked at her sex, the oil with which her body had been anointed mingled with her juices, lubricating her passage even more slickly. Her body shuddered with the shocks of pleasure from her fingers as the little bells were again set sweetly jingling. Her forefinger found her clitoris, standing erect, a miniature male organ within the jewel of her womanhood. She teased the hard nodule, toying with it between finger and thumb, coating it with her oily juices, then quickening the pace of her frigging brought herself to a climax, squealing with release as her coming overwhelmed her, then slumping back in the chair exhausted. This pleasing spectacle had, of course, had a considerable effect on our flagging spirits. As we watched Helen pleasure herself John Marsh and I toyed with Lady Margaret's slender charms, caressing her smooth, golden tanned skin, hefting her ripe compact breasts, suckling on the glorious cinnamon nubs, while she fondled our flaccid members which soon regained their earlier vigour under her hand and the influence of Helen's intensely erotic display. By the time that Helen's climax had subsided both of us were fiercely erect and Lady Margaret was again ready to play her part. Maggie, rousing herself, knelt on all fours in the centre of the bed, presenting her hind quarters to John Marsh. He reached out and petted the exquisite rondure of her compact, almost boyish, bottom. He moulded her bum-cheeks in his firm grasp, and parting her bum-cleft he probed her anus, caressing the sensitive puckered hole. Lady Margaret purred her appreciation. Taking his engorged tool in one hand, John Marsh placed it at the porch of Maggie's womanhood and thrust home into her wetness. Grasping her hips he began to fuck her lustily, his hard belly slapping against her buttocks as he partially withdrew and then thrust powerfully into her cunt. Maggie's whole body shuddered under this treatment, and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the delicious sensation of his heavy manhood reaming her love tunnel. I again offered my hard erection to Lady Margaret's mouth. She took my manhood in one gulp, swallowing me into her jaws, throat deep. The vigour of my friend's fucking was transmitted through Maggie's shuddering frame to my own hard tool as she sucked me lustily. John Marsh's thrust into her cunt caused her to swallow more of my length, which in turn as he withdrew from her pussy, she released, her lips sucking along my cock's slick length as it withdrew. Meanwhile, Helen had taken our permission as general licence to relieve herself as often as she wished. From the corner of my eye I could see our attractive young slave again sprawled in the leather chair, legs widely parted to reveal her livid puffy sexlips. She grasped the martinet in both hands and thrust the smooth leather handle into her drooling fanny, groaning with lust as she worked the instrument back and forth in her sex. At each stroke she buried the thick handle deep in herself, screwing lustily, head back, eyes closed in ecstasy. It was not long before I felt my seed boiling in my balls - I held on until my weapon was deep in

Maggie's mouth, tongue lapped, deep in her throat, then unleashed a creamy stream of hot jism which filled her throat and spilled from her lips. I continued to spend gloriously as she released me, she swallowing hard, consuming my seed. A residue of my creamy spend splashed her face and hair, trickling down her chin. John Marsh was coming now, his buttocks tightened and he ploughed deep into Maggie's sex, filling her with his spend as simultaneously Maggie too was overcome by her climax and screamed with joyful release. We collapsed in a heap on the bed, totally spent. Helen too had come and slumped in the chair with the whip, stained with her juices, idly clasped across her breasts. We roused her and sent her for champagne to revive us and then allowed her to retire. We were too spent to bother with restraining her, but of course she was now beyond any need of that, having proved beyond doubt that her only purpose and pleasure was to obey her master.

12: HELEN IS MARKED On the next day Helen was up and about her duties unbidden. She had risen and bathed and dressed herself in the garments Lady Margaret had selected for her the night before. When we roused ourselves an ample breakfast had been prepared for us and was set out in the dining room. Our charming slave stood ready as ever to wait upon us. There was no need for us to further debate Helen's readiness to undergo the culmination of her novitiate. We had brought her to the desired level of self-knowledge and it was obvious that she had given herself whole-heartedly to her new life of submission. Her behaviour under punishment, as evinced the evening before when she bore up under the lash of the cruel martinet, was exemplary, as was her obedience in all matters both great and insignificant. There was no question, therefore, that today Helen should be made to undergo a ceremonial to bind herself irrevocably as John Marsh's slave, to be punished and disposed as he willed, and that she should at last be made to bear his mark. While we made ready thus to serve her, Helen was sent away to her room to kneel at the priedieu, contemplating her experiences thus far, until we should summon her again. It was our intention that the events which were to unfold should be indelibly imprinted on Helen's mind; as indelibly as John Marsh's mark would be on her flesh. We therefore purposed that the act of giving herself in slavery to her husband and master should be to Helen a true rite of passage. We should of course employ the familiar aspects of pain, humiliation, apprehension and bondage to focus and impress her mind. To this powerful mixture we would now add all the atmosphere of solemn ceremonial. In her absence we made ready the great hall where she had first tasted punishment at our hands. We again arranged high-backed chairs in the form of a tribunal or board of judgement before which Helen would be made to kneel. We drew heavy curtains across the windows, blotting out the bright summer sunlight and plunging the room into darkness. We then placed lighted candles to relieve the gloom and to provide the desired sombre and awe-inspiring tone for our proceedings. As before, the arm of a chair was made ready for Helen to drape herself in the now familiar posture when our proceedings required it. Lady Margaret also fetched and arranged handily, the necessary instruments to be used in marking Helen's body in accordance with her master's wishes. We heartily agreed that now Helen was worthy to bear such a mark designating her as John Marsh's property. When we were satisfied that everything was in readiness Lady Margaret and I went to prepare Helen and to bring her to the presence of her master. We found her, obedient to our command, kneeling at the prie-dieu lost in thought. "Helen," Lady Margaret broke in on her reverie, "it is time for you to undergo the last trial which will end your novitiate. Are you ready?" "Mistress, I am!" responded Helen in the soft tones we always required her to use in addressing us, her eyes already alight with arousal.

"Then stand up and we shall prepare you." At this instruction Helen rose from her kneeling position before the prie-dieu and, as Lady Margaret directed, removed her clothes until she was again standing naked before us. The weals and ridges the martinet had raised on her buttocks the previous evening had now begun to turn purple as bruises started to form - her poor bottom was streaked red and yellow and dark hued purple. This stain apart Helen's skin was as delightfully pale and unblemished as ever. We now prepared her for the coming ceremony, first forcing her well-fleshed body into a tight corset. Maggie and I strained on the fastenings, making sure that the old-fashioned contrivance of steel and whalebone was tightly laced about Helen's body, squeezing her breasts until the bulging flesh nearly popped from its constraining grasp, constricting her flesh and forcing her to an upright posture. Then her master's favoured black stockings were added to her outfit, the silken webs moulding her shapely legs, contrasting the soft, milky whiteness of her upper thighs. Finally, she put on high-heeled court shoes, again complementing her legs and making her plump buttocks protrude pleasantly beneath the constricting corset. We then tied her hands behind her, the leather thongs biting into her wrists as we tightened her bonds, making her wince in pain. Thus helpless, we placed the baize hood which had figured in an earlier experience over her head again, plunging her into darkness. So bound and hoodwinked she was completely at our mercy, completely under our control, and again a victim to the terrors of the unknown. We fixed a leather leash to the collar which she still wore about her neck, and thus humiliated, we led her like a tethered beast to the living room, which we had now transformed into a place of ordeal. John Marsh had, during our temporary absence, prepared himself and now sat dressed in a loose robe in die middle chair of the three we had set out. We placed Helen before the tribunal seat and after some little pause to heighten the tension which she obviously felt, removed her hood and restored her to light. We resumed our seats. As her eyes became accustomed to the candlelight gloom Helen took stock of her surroundings. She was obviously impressed by our dispositions which had transformed the familiar room into a sort of dark temple, filled with foreboding. The familiar look of fear and apprehension clouded her face as she stood stiffly erect before her tormentors. "Helen," her husband began, "you have passed through many trials to bring you today to a state of self-knowledge which, I conceive, will enable you happily to embrace the life of submission we now offer you. Are you prepared to meet this final trial of your novitiate?" In a clear voice, though tinged with a distinct tone of apprehension, Helen responded, "I am." "Do you know yourself as a slave, happy only to serve and grateful for your deserved chastisement?" "Yes, yes, I do and I submit gladly." "Do you therefore bind yourself as my slave, giving yourself wholly to me to command and punish as I please?" "Yes, I bind myself gladly, forever!" "Do you recognise your past infidelity towards me and count yourself properly and justly chastised?" "I do. I thank my master most humbly for my several punishments and for the great mercies he has shown me!" "Are you willing to bear my mark, set upon you in any way I may choose?" "Yes, I am. Use me as you wish."

Lady Margaret broke in, "Then you will kneel and pledge yourself in the seed of your master!" With difficulty, held rigid by the tight corset, her hands secured behind her, Helen knelt. John Marsh stood and opened his robe to reveal his male organ heavily erect, which he presented to Helen's willing lips. He grasped her head in both hands and drove his male hardness into her wet mouth through the "O" of her carmined lips, lunging throat deep. Helen gagged, then opening her throat accommodated herself to this lusty intrusion. John Marsh thrust in and out of her mouth, his fleshy rod gliding silkily between Helen's lips as she sucked hungrily on his maleness. With rough hands twined in her hair he held her head rigid, fucking her mouth, violating her throat. For long minutes he used Helen thus, his erection emerging from between her lips slickly coated with her spittle, then plunging back as the young woman, cheeks concave, sucked him desperately. John Marsh's seed began to boil within his loins. He ceased his thrusting motion and clasped Helen's head to him as his spend spurted from him. A great, copious jet of semen erupted from his pulsing cock, filling Helen's mouth, splashing into her throat. She swallowed the creamy torrent, just as a second jet spurted forth, followed by a third and a fourth. Helen's mouth filled to overflowing as she tried to swallow the flood of thick cream and to accommodate her master's throbbing erection. Flecks of jism dribbled from the corners of her mouth, coating her chin. Swallowing hard she at last cleared her mouth and began to suck again on her husband's wilting flesh, milking him of the last precious drop of his spending. John Marsh released Helen's head, his now flaccid weapon dropping from between her lips: a last bead of semen lingered at the tip. Helen's tongue darted from between her lips to lick up this last morsel and to lick the coating of come from her chin. Now standing behind her, Lady Margaret began to lash Helen's protruding buttocks with a long supple leather strap. The poor girl's bottom was already sore and bruised from the previous evening's mistreatment, and it took but a single stroke to reawaken the intense hurt. Helen, trussed as she was, was unable to avoid the lash and was forced to remain kneeling as the leather cracked over her quivering nates. Her face dissolved into a very picture of agony and bitter salt tears coursed down her face. After just a few strokes, Maggie desisted and put up the strap, leaving our victim to sob as her ruddy-hued bottom throbbed. Lady Margaret and I assisted Helen to rise and her husband again spoke to her: "Having thus pledged yourself as my slave, I now wish to place my mark upon you. My first inclination is to have you branded with a hot iron." Here Helen's eyes widened and her face took on an expression of sheer horror at the agonising prospect. "That," continued John Marsh, noticing with satisfaction how his remarks so deeply affected the young woman's composure, "is my first inclination, and I may at some later time make you undergo such a trial to please me. I have decided now, however, to spare you this transitory pain and have asked Lady Margaret to mark your thigh with a suitable tattoo which will suffice to mark you indelibly as my property." Helen's expression calmed and she again cast down her eyes, avoiding her master's gaze. Lady Margaret now spoke: "Helen, you will bend over the arm of this chair so that I can do your master's bidding." Helen without hesitation or demur, but with some physical difficulty, since her hands remained tightly bound behind her back, draped herself in the required position, her bottom raised high, to enable Lady Margaret to work upon her bared flesh with ink and needles. Lady Margaret took up the instruments she had prepared and began to mark Helen in the way her master had prescribed, tattooing a device agreed by John Marsh on the hitherto unblemished

thigh of our delightful slave. For better than an hour Lady Margaret worked at the intricate design. Although relatively painless as a process, for all this time Helen was forced to remain motionless in a posture that was, by express design, most uncomfortable and exhausting. Finally Lady Margaret was finished and Helen was allowed to stand upright again so that we could inspect her mark of bondage. The pale flesh of her upper thigh was now decorated with a device derived from John Marsh's ancient family crest, a rampant bear clasping an heraldic ragged staff. Beneath this device Lady Margaret had added the legend "Servus J.M." to show that Helen was indeed the slave and property of John Marsh. "Now Helen, you have finally submitted yourself in bondage to me. In public your demeanour is to be always reserved and demure, your eyes cast down and your manner towards me deferential," John Marsh admonished. "To the external world you will appear a devoted, somewhat passive wife. In private you will submit wholly to my whim. You are without personal will, you are my chattel, to punish or command as I wish!" So it was that our ceremony ended, marking the transition of Helen from her novitiate to a state of willing subservience to her master. Many further trials and experiences awaited her, to reinforce her submission and to try her fortitude, but her schooling at our hands ended here. We now released her from her bonds and permitted her to retire in order to assume a more seemly costume. Thus restored to her personal comforts Helen was made to set to and prepare and serve a celebratory repast for her three oppressors. It must be admitted that the exertions of the night before had somewhat dulled our carnal appetites. We did, however, do ample justice to the meal our willing slave prepared and many celebratory drafts were drunk. Of course we also did not neglect to sport with and humiliate our delightful thrall, working her hard and trying her with many a pinch and slap. Later, her part, in Helen's translation from coerced prisoner to willing slave being ended, Lady Margaret bade us farewell, setting off on her return to St Lucia. At her parting she again extended her invitation for Helen to further her experiences in her West Indian household, which invitation John Marsh promised to honour in the near future. And so we were three again.

13: A COMING-OUT PARTY Every day Helen's affinity for her life of submission and obedience increased. It became clear in her carriage and general demeanour, that having passed from novitiate to slavery she was truly under the total influence of her master and husband, his to dispose and command according to his whim. In recognition of her new state of submission, John Marsh having fixed his mark upon her, there remained now but one further trial of her obedience which would prove the worth of the schooling to which she had been subjected during her novitiate. It was now time for Helen's 'coming out' into society. One morning, as Helen was clearing away the remains of breakfast, her husband informed her that guests were expected for dinner that evening and that she should prepare for their reception. It would not be necessary for Helen to arrange the meal as this was to be delivered by an outside caterer. Helen, however, would need to make ready the dining room and later to wait upon her husband's guests. John Marsh also specified her manner of dress for the evening and directed that she should take special care over her appearance. He also stipulated that Helen was to show to his guests the same obedience that he now expected from her. After a busy day of preparation our guests arrived towards eight o'clock in the evening. The party consisted of Victor, an old business acquaintance of John Marsh, and a younger man, Karl. They were accompanied by Victor's 'niece', a young woman of about twenty years, whom Victor and his companion had schooled for some time in the ways of obedience and who was now wholly subject to their control. The 'niece', Paula, was a pretty blonde girl, somewhat more slightly built than Helen, but by no means undersized. Her short hair framed an intensely pretty, high cheekboned face of classic blue-eyed beauty. She held her head bowed and walked behind her two masters, ready to

comply with their merest command. The two girls waited upon us, preparing pre-dinner drinks and standing to one side awaiting our bidding. It had been arranged that the girls should be dressed identically in white high-necked blouses and long black skirts. Together they presented a pretty and demure picture, Helen's dark beauty contrasting with Paula's blonde hair and blue eyes. I should also mention that matters were so contrived that the girls' skirts were split at the back thus enabling easy access to the buttocks and thighs concealed beneath, should we so desire. At dinner the girls served the meal and dispensed the wine. Paula looked to the comfort of John Marsh and myself, while Helen attended upon our guests. When not engaged upon these services the girls stood at the table between us; again Paula with John Marsh and myself, Helen between Victor and Karl. As the meal progressed we each took the opportunity afforded by the slit skirts to explore the hidden charms of our attractive servitors. Our hands roved wantonly over the smooth skin of buttocks and thighs, cupped the rondure of firm posteriors and fingers probed the secret places of the two girls' bum-clefts. At one point Victor took a firm portion of Helen's buttock flesh between thumb and forefinger and pinched heartily. Helen squealed and jumped slightly before resuming her composure, taking this painful intimacy in her stride. The meal drew to a pleasant conclusion. We had dined well and the company had proved excellent. Helen and Paula dispensed brandy and cigars. We sat, pleasantly conversing amid the debris of our dinner, every so often a hand idly caressing a smooth flank. "Well, John, what do you say we test these girls' mettle a little?" asked Victor with a twinkle. "What do you suggest, my friend?" responded our host archly. "Let's say six each with the cane! Just to waken them up. Get the blood flowing, eh?" "Indeed, capital idea. You to begin?" Victor needed no further encouragement, and so pushing back his chair he regained his feet. He signed to Paula, who quickly went to find the required instrument of correction, returning in an instant bearing a whippy rattan cane. Victor removed his dinner jacket while Paula cleared some space amidst the remains of the meal so that Helen could place her arms on the table and so assume the familiar posture required of her. "Now Helen, bend over! We shall see how you respond. Arch your back so your bum sticks out well! Legs apart!" he commanded. Obediently, Helen placed her head on her arms which she folded on the table, bending from the waist, back well arched to present her posteriors. Victor parted her skirt at the slit, pushing the material aside to reveal the pale moons of her bum. Victor looked at Helen's now bared bottom approvingly and remarked: "The sight is certainly equal to the feel!" Victor flexed the cane, raised the rod high and brought it down with a stinging blow across both defenceless nates. A thin red mark became visible on Helen's rump; she neither flinched nor uttered a sound. Again Victor drew back the cane and let fly a carefully aimed blow, this time from the ground cutting upwards, rippling the firm buttock flesh and raising a distinct red mark alongside the first. Helen's pale half-moons quivered with the violence of the blow, but still she suffered silently. Victor laid each of the six agreed blows across Helen's fleshy rump, pausing between each to savour the full effect on his victim and to enjoy the gradual reddening of her nates. Each stinging stroke Helen bore with tranquillity and without making a sound, although her face betrayed the effect of the pain she was experiencing in her well-punished bottom.

The punishment agreed upon having been completed, Victor put aside the cane and seizing Helen's buttocks parted her bum-cleft to reveal the puckered hole of her anus. With his forefinger he probed the sensitive hole, drawing a throaty grunt of pleasure from the girl. "You say her bum-hole is still virgin?" he asked absently. "Indeed that is my belief!" John Marsh replied. "She should provide delicious sport," Victor remarked, sharing a glance with Karl, his companion. Helen was then allowed to rise and her place was taken by the comely Paula. John Marsh in his turn, parted her skirt to reveal a delightfully firm pair of buttocks, framed by broad garters holding her blue stockings taut against pale thighs. Our host laid on the rod with a will, raising six distinct red marks across the fleshy expanse of the buttocks presented for his attention. Paula, a true habitué of this form of correction, absorbed the punishment without flinch or murmur. This part of the evening's entertainment being concluded we repaired with our brandy to the living room, that scene of Helen's introduction to the path of submission, which had taken place so many weeks (indeed months) before and had been succeeded by so many formative experiences. We arranged ourselves on two long sofas set at right angles to each other, thus forming a sort of arena. The girls brought coffee and served us, then stood to await our bidding in the middle of the room. "Paula," Victor commanded, "you will assist Helen to disrobe." Obediently Paula positioned herself behind Helen and loosed the buttons which secured the white cotton blouse. She drew the thin material down Helen's arms and removed the garment. She loosed the catch of Helen's bra and the ample flesh of her breasts tumbled forth, each mound tipped by its fiery red teat, already engorged with passion. Victor shot a glance of approval across the room. Both he and Karl blatantly enjoyed the sight of Helen naked to the waist for some time, passing comment on her figure in an admiring manner as though viewing a prize beast, before signalling Paula to proceed. She then unwound the long skirt from about Helen's waist, revealing the soft swell of her fecund belly and buttocks and her black silkclad legs. The marks of the recent caning, of course, still stood starkly red on her bottom, contrasting with the creamy paleness of the rest of Helen's ripe body. Victor ordered Helen to turn about, to place her hands behind her head, to bend over while spreading her legs and so on, all so that he could more fully examine and admire her charms. "I see you have already marked your property," he said, remarking upon the tattoo which we had recently caused to be placed on Helen's left flank. "I trust she is worthy." "That is for you to prove, my friend. Try her. Use her how you will," responded John Marsh in an offhand tone. "Then we shall have her naked. Paula, remove her stockings!" Kneeling, Paula peeled the black silken webs down the smooth skin of Helen's legs and removing her shoes and stockings in one movement, stripped Helen completely naked. Victor rose and positioned himself before the naked girl, directing her again to place her hands behind her head, thus making the firm globes of her breasts thrust proudly upward. He seized a ripe massy fruit in each hand, kneading the yielding flesh, squeezing harder, harder . . . Under this treatment Helen gave voice to a deepthroated groan of animal enjoyment. Victor released his grasp on Helen's flesh and cradling each superb breast on a flattened palm, raised the cherry-ripe bud of the nipple to his lips. Drawing each in turn into his mouth he sucked it, then worried the swollen breast-tip with sharp white teeth. Helen's groans and growls of animal lust

filled the room. He released each stiff rosy tit-bit from between his teeth and mashed the heavy globes again in his hands, squeezing and kneading the ripe flesh. Releasing her tormented titties he took both nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling the sensitive buds, still slick with his saliva between his fingers, worrying each bud to an ecstasy of sensation. Gradually he increased the pressure of his grasp, pinching down hard on both cherry-tips until at last Helen, eyes tight shut, squealed with pain and he released his hold. At his direction Helen knelt before him, her hands clasped behind her back. With rapid movements Victor shucked off his clothes, presenting his powerfully erect manhood within inches of Helen's face. He proffered the purple head to her lips. She opened her carmine-rouged mouth and engulfed the tip, running her tongue over its silkiness. Victor withdrew from her mouth and directed-Helen to lick his stiff member. In obedience she applied her tongue, licking the entire length from taut scrotum sac to the shining purple tip until it glistened slickly with her spit. Victor grasped her head and fed first the tip, then the whole throbbing length of his member into her straining mouth. Her cheeks bulged as his greatness filled her. Still with Helen's head tightly grasped, Victor began alternately to withdraw and thrust his hard length into the girl's distended jaws. He withdrew his glistening hardness completely, rubbing it over her face, smearing eyelids, nose and cheeks, before returning it to her rounded mouth to begin again his measured fucking motion. At length a tightening of his buttocks signalled his imminent release. He thrust home his member deep into her sucking mouth and with a satisfied sigh jetted his seed into her mouth. Helen swallowed hungrily. As he withdrew his now flaccid member, a smear of his jism escaped from Helen's lips and trickled down her chin. Almost by reflex the girl extended a red-tipped forefinger, caught the droplets and placed them again on her tongue, savouring the taste and swallowing hard. Helen was then placed on all fours; her breasts, bearing the ruddy impress of their recent handling, dangled heavily beneath her torso. Karl, who had meanwhile removed his clothes to reveal a hard, muscular frame covered in a mat of black hair, took up position behind her, kneeling himself between her slightly spread legs. His virile member was powerfully erect, the foreskin drawn back from the angry crimson tip, which strained upwards from the hard, flat belly, towards Helen's defenceless bottom. With rough hands he seized her bum-cheeks, peeling the bum-cleft apart to reveal the brown puckered ring of her anus. "Paula," he commanded, "you may anoint us." Eagerly the blonde girl stooped to do his bidding, smearing an ample amount of a jelly lubricant over his uprearing manhood, and applying an equal portion to the portals of Helen's virgin bumhole. Now Karl drew Helen's bottom towards him, holding the bum-cleft open with one hand as he used the other to insert the very tip of his hardness into Helen's waiting anal tunnel. He held his weapon thus for some time, habituating the virgin hole to this new sensation. Then gently he pushed further in. Helen gasped with the pain and wriggled her bottom as if to loose herself from this intrusion. Karl withdrew and catching up a short leather strap dealt her a cutting blow on each buttock. He again applied his straining hardness to her anal portal then, grasping Helen's firm-fleshed hips, inexorably he drove forward until a good third of his length was embedded in the girl's fundament. He withdrew again partially, allowing the jelly to lubricate the passage thoroughly, then his rough hands grasping her hips, he drove his manhood fully home into Helen's violated bum-hole. Helen again squealed with pain, but then a deeper, more pleasurable sensation supplanted the ache, making her groan lasciviously.

Her tiny pink tongue licked her lips, and despite herself, she thrust back against Karl's hardness, seeking to deepen the penetration. Now Karl began to work his member in the delightful tightness of her anus, partially withdrawing then thrusting home, his hands exploring Helen's buttocks, hips and belly, plucking at the dense thatch on her Mount of Venus the while. With each thrust she now squealed with delight, countering with thrusts of her own as pain and pleasure mingled. At last Karl ploughed deeply into her fundament, his hard belly slapping against her buttock flesh. His seed welled up within him and he came deeply and copiously, filling Helen's rectum with his hot spending. The couple collapsed on the ground, Karl's deflating weapon slipping from Helen's bum-hole with a soft 'plop'. Now while Helen and her two companions recovered their spirits we took our turn to sport with the handsome Paula. While the two men reclined naked on the sofa, Helen attended upon her sister in subjection, assisting Paula to remove the blouse and skirt to reveal a charming blue basque which merely cradled her firm conical breasts, tip-tilted and adorned with coral nipples surrounded by deep - remarkably deep - aureolae. At the confluence of her thighs a sparse covering of blonde hairs covered her pubis. Helen's busy fingers quickly released her companion from the constricting garment and in an instant Paula too was nude, her slender figure displayed to us. Clearly visible, above all, on her flank was Victor's proprietorial mark branded on her sweet flesh with hot iron. We made her lay down, her head and shoulders supported in Helen's lap, as she knelt behind the reclining Paula. Then the lissom blonde was made to raise her legs revealing the livid gash of her sex and the tiny hole of her anus. John Marsh, who had now removed his own clothing, knelt beside Paula as she lay in that position of humiliation and inserted one, two, three fingers into her sopping wet hole. He forced the lips apart, examining her cunt minutely, commenting on the fineness of its form for the benefit of her masters. Then with rapid movements he frigged the delicious orifice as Paula squirmed and groaned lustfully under his hand. Withdrawing his fingers, coated with her juices, he turned his attention to her stiffly erect clitoris, worrying at the tiny bud-like member until the girl came with a shuddering climax. Placing her legs over his shoulders he then poised his erection at the entrance of her sex and slowly drove his stiff manhood deeply into her cunt. Slowly, deliberately he fucked in and out of her, withdrawing until the head almost dropped from her grasping lips then plunging deep into her, grazing her cervix, his flat belly slapping against her yielding bottom. With each thrust Paula squealed with delight, eyes wide open. Finally his buttocks clenched and John Marsh remained deeply embedded in her quim as his creamy spending gushed forth. Now in my turn I directed Paula to kneel on the sofa, her head on the backrest, her bottom thrust out to me. I took up a tawse and applied the supple leather to her bottom, punishing the rondures of her fesses with stroke after stroke until a delicious redness suffused the whole fleshy ovoid. The girl slumped against the sofa, bottom slack, her bum-cleft open, revealing her anal tube. Like the rest I was now naked. I stood behind Paula's throbbing rear end, my erect cock straining towards her bum-hole. I seized her buttocks and pulled the nates apart, clearing the path to her rear entry. With one hand I presented the head of my straining manhood to her tight but well used hole and lodged it firmly, then with a thrust of my hips drove home with no further ceremony. The tight muscles of her rectal tube gripped my member gloriously. Tentatively I began to work in her passage, grasping her hips, my nails gouging her firm flesh. As the momentum increased Paula screamed with pleasure and lust as my tool worked in her. I felt my seed mount within me, thrust deep into her tight bum-hole and spent abundantly as the girl continued to yelp with delight. Withdrawing my deflating member I worked it along the length of Paula's bum-cleft, smearing the residue of my creamy effusion over her bottom. Then with a smart slap on her fesses I released her. All this time Victor and Karl had acted as idle onlookers to the spectacle. Now they had recovered their former vigour, their members standing stiffly erect beneath their bellies as they lolled

on the sofa. Karl now reclined on the floor, Paula hastening to place cushions for his head and shoulders. He now directed Helen to straddle his loins and to impale her cunt on his upthrust hardness. She in obedience complied, and the lips of her hungry sex were distended by his penis and hungrily gobbled up his manhood. Helen, who had for so long been deprived of such sexual satisfaction, sank on to the upthrust maleness with a deep sigh bordering on ecstasy. Her eyes glazed with lust as she began, with sensuous movements of her hips and thighs, to ride Karl's weapon. Karl reached up and again seized the ripe fullness of her breasts, kneading the creamy globes unmercifully in his harsh grasp. Then, with a jerk on her breastflesh the young man pulled Helen forward, her erect nipples brushing the coarse mat of his chest hair. He grappled her to him taking a portion of her flesh just at the base of her breast between his sharp white teeth. With great slowness and deliberation he teased the sweet mouthful of Helen's flesh with his teeth, gradually increasing the mordant pressure until at last his teeth clenched hard, biting deep into the girl's yielding flesh. Helen squealed but all the while her hips continued to ride his hard erection which was buried in her. Then Victor took up his position behind Helen as she continued to buck and jerk on Karl's member. Victor grasped his penis, now glistening with the jelly lubricant he had applied, and placed the head at the opening of Helen's anal cavity. Grasping her hips he pushed forward, again forcing her tight tunnel to accommodate male hardness until both he and Karl were deeply impaled within the lovely girl, who continued to ride both weapons lustily. Now Helen was locked in a trance of sexual bliss, deeply filled with hard male flesh, groaning and squealing as each flesh rod probed within her. John Marsh too had recovered to his former hardness and standing to one side of the heaving group, presented his male member to his wife's lips. Helen's small pink tongue tasted the proffered sweetmeat, smearing the crown with her saliva, then opening her soft lips she drew the whole length of her husband's member into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged as she sucked hard on the throbbing tool which probed her straining jaws. Now Helen was being thoroughly fucked in her three great orifices. She was filled almost to bursting. Karl's hands continued to knead her ample breast flesh, while Victor's harsh grip probed her waist and hips, his nails raking her smooth skin. John Marsh's randy tool, slick with saliva, thrust between her lips, violating her soft mouth. Helen's frame shuddered as she experienced delicious climax followed by overwhelming climax. John Marsh withdrew his hardness from between her straining lips and with deliberate strokes wanked his shaft. Helen reached out and, replacing his hand with her own, caressed her master to his climax. The stiff member twitched under her hand and suddenly jets of white creaminess shot forth, splashing on to her face and over her heaving breasts. When he had finished spending Helen bent her head and licked the remaining droplets from his knob, licking her lips and drinking down his jism as her eyes gleamed with gratitude for her final release. Soon Victor's buttocks clenched and ploughing deep into her rectum he spent his copious draft into her while Karl, grasping Helen's tormented bosom roughly, spent copiously in her cunt. The whole tableau of naked humanity collapsed and Helen slumped to the ground, male seed leaking from her quim and bottom, her pale skin splashed with her master's spending. The air of the room reeked of the musky odour of human sexuality. While we caught our breath Paula fetched champagne which had been cooling and expertly broaching the bottle, served us with an enlivening draught. In view of their recent exertions we all agreed that the girls should be permitted to share a glass with us, and so sitting naked in the middle of the room, Paula and Helen took a glass of the dry champagne. Every so often, Paula would shoot a sidelong glance at her sister in subjection, covertly eyeing Helen's ample charms. She also gazed appealingly at her two masters, seeking permission . . . "Paula is a devotee of the 'rite of Sappho'," Victor remarked, "and from the longing glances she is casting in the direction of the lovely Helen, I do believe she is lusting for her. Shall we allow her to

pleasure herself? I know the sight will prove entertaining." John Marsh readily agreed, of course, and Paula was granted her desire. I believe Helen looked a little unsure but nevertheless remained obedient to her master's will. Paula nestled close to Helen and embraced her, placing her mouth over her sister's in a deep, lustfilled, tonguing kiss. Helen responded readily and with growing keenness, returning the embrace and running her hands hungrily over Paula's fine fair skin, finding and cupping her breasts, toying with the coral tips. Paula, working her mouth down Helen's body, suckled her ripe breasts, biting at the flesh, leaving little tooth marks at the base as companions to those left by Karl. Sharp teeth nipped at the firm expanse of Helen's belly, Paula's mouth descending until at last she buried her face in the dark thatch of Helen's mons. Helen lay back with a pleasured sigh, parting her thighs to allow access to her sex. Paula, parting the puffy sex-lips, plunged her tongue into her partner's cunt, lashing her clitoris and sex parts, lapping up her juices. Helen, groaning with lust under the blonde girl's ministrations, roused herself from her erotic torpor and positioned herself so that she too could attend to Paula's sex parts with her mouth. Thus the two girls writhed before us, enjoying a glorious soixante-neuf. Both girls climaxed violently but continued to tongue each other until, exhausted, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, panting from their mutual exertions. The light of dawn was already creeping through the heavy curtains as our pleasures drew to an end. All of our appetites had been sated. Paula and Helen's bodies had been well used and a pleasant exhaustion overcame us all. We ascended to the sleeping quarters prepared for us, Helen being permitted to accompany Karl, and Paula attending on John Marsh. We slept until well past noon. Paula and Helen were up early, though, drawing baths and preparing breakfast, after which our guests departed. And so ended Helen's introduction into society in her new guise as John Marsh's obedient slave.

14: HELEN AGAIN During the whole of that spring and summer Helen had kept up her journal, faithfully recording her thoughts and her reactions to the experiences to which we subjected her. At first, as I have noted, there was some trifling resistance to this imposition, but as ever a firm hand carried the day. This journal then provided her husband and myself with a useful gauge to Helen's progress from bewildered ingenue suffering under our stern regime, through the dawnings of self-knowledge to that much desired point where our charming pupil gladly embraced the proffered life of submission and obedience and drew deep pleasure from that same submission. Now that her novitiate had ended and she had been reintroduced into society in her new character, Helen's journal continued to provide enlightenment and entertainment. Following the small party with our friends Victor and Karl and of course not forgetting the delightful Paula, Helen wrote at length, reviewing her recent experiences: The period of my novitiate, as my Master and his companion term it, has now truly ended and I joyously accept my new position as John's slave - his property to dispose at his will. Thus I now can give myself wholly to my Master. Looking back over the last few months I am amazed at how the treatment I have received has so changed me and has so much revealed an inner self I did not - could not - suspect was hidden within me. My life before, while luxurious and full of supposed freedoms, always left me wanting something more - but what? And in seeking that elusive satisfaction all I achieved was the betrayal of my dear husband and an intense guilt which I believed could not be purged. My dear husband and master has shown me both a way to find a deep contentment and to experience the fulfilment I sought. At its core is the dedication of my whole self to serving my master,

placing myself in his hands and at his disposal. John has shown me by clear example during my novitiate that I may rely on him to bring me to the edge of experience but always to keep that experience within the bound of my endurance. At first I thought of the treatment I received - beatings, restraint and humiliation - as simply a harsh punishment for my infidelities. I was confused, bewildered, but, after reflection, would bear all gladly to make amends to my master, if such was his desire. Gradually, however, I found that such treatment called forth an unexpected response from me. Yes, I reaped sensual and sexual pleasure from being treated so, but there was also an inner glow of pleasure in knowing that I was serving the will of one whom I adore. little by little, through the comments my master and his companion made and their instruction, it became clear that what was really intended was a regime of training rather than mere punishment. Eventually my master's companion made all clear, pointing out John's desires and plans for my future. By this time my self-knowledge had reached such a stage as to enable me to gladly choose and not flinch from the path of obedience and self-abasement which was laid out before me. It was at this point in my development that Lady Margaret joined us. I knew that I was ready, with all my heart, to serve my master as he wished but I was not skilled enough in the ways of pleasing him. I was in fact a mere amateur of sensuality. It was Lady Margaret's task to add knowledge to my willingness and I was accordingly placed wholly in her hands. At our first encounter she drew me into one of the ground-floor rooms which had now been fitted out as a class-room, with desks, drawing boards and a high leather couch. Appropriately during this time of instruction Lady Margaret affected the severe dress of a Victorian governess, for that is indeed the part she now played in my schooling. I would hazard, however, that none of what she now set out to impart to me had ever been taught in a Victorian classroom! At once she commanded me to undress and, of course, without demur I complied, stripping to my stockings and standing naked before her with my hands at my sides. For several long minutes she studied my naked body attentively. Despite being used now to such intimate perusal I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. "No need for shame or modesty, my dear," she commented absently, as much to herself as to me, "you have a charming, ripe figure which will give much pleasure." She reached out and hefted my breasts, smiling as she appreciated the weight of the massy gourds of warm flesh. "Indeed, here are a fine pair of manpleasers," she murmured as she caressed me. Then she was behind me, her hands running first over my shoulders then over my back and finally handling my buttocks and upper thighs. I stood stock still as she continued to study my body minutely. Then I was commanded to bend over, which I did, tensing in expectations of a slap or perhaps the stroke of a cane. Instead her fingers began to part my bum-cheeks, exposing the puckered opening of my anus. Then I felt her long fingernail, gently at first, worrying the sensitive opening. The probing became gradually more intense as she scratched at my sensitive bumhole, paining me with her carmine claw. Involuntarily I whimpered and wriggled my bottom; still ignoring my reaction Lady Margaret continued. Then her finger was inside me and I was squirming with pleasure, the pain of a moment ago completely forgotten. Abruptly she withdrew from my bum-hole, ordering me to stand erect. Then she was in front of me again, her deep brown eyes devouring my heavy breasts. Wetting her finger she smeared her saliva over the aureola of my left breast. Then moving on to the nipple she continued to moisten me as the bud sprang erect. When this was slick, shiny and stiff she turned her attention to the right breast, again smearing the cherry tips with her spittle until she was holding both tips, wet and gleaming, between her thumbs and forefingers. At first gently, then with increasing pressure, she rolled the ripe buds, as pleasure, then pain, then pleasure again throbbed through me. I closed my eyes, groaning deeply and felt my sex flood with juice.

As I was almost dropping over the edge of passion into ecstasy Lady Margaret released my nipples and seized my heavy, swollen breasts at the root, digging her long, sharp fingernails deep into the yielding flesh and dragging my bosom taut, impaling me on her talons. I squealed in anguish, eyes wide open now. She continued to squeeze my titflesh, working die searing points of her claws in me as her gaze bored into my soul. Then, again suddenly, it was over. She released me, telling me to sit and attend to her carefully. Thereafter most of our lessons took place with me naked. Since, however, I was now used to being without clothes this did not disturb me at all. During the next weeks Lady Margaret schooled me in practically every way it is possible for a woman to please a man. As her discourse continued I understood how woefully amateurish and clumsy and lacking in all sensual refinement, I really was, despite my guilty experiences. These by contrast with what Lady Margaret now imparted to me were but the fumblings of a child. Naturally, Lady Margaret was a fount of wisdom concerning the sexual pleasuring of men. She showed me many techniques and uses of my hands, tongue, lips and my internal muscles. We examined dildoes, vibrators and the like and talked of their uses. Of all of this, in my innocence I had had no former conception. When she was finished with me, however, it needed but practice to perfect Lady Margaret's wise counsel. She explained however that my duties to my master lay even beyond acting the perfect bed-fellow, capable of giving delight and when needed arousing flagging spirits. No! I was also to learn how to bring my master every sensual and indeed practical delight - in short I was to learn how to care for and cater to his every whim. In fact I was to be a modern odalisque. To this end I received instruction in giving sensual massage, the use of aromatic oils and fragrances to relax and to stimulate appetite, the use of cosmetics, even how to prepare a perfect Martini. I was being prepared to serve my master in every detail. During this time Lady Margaret did not neglect to administer punishment and my bottom still felt the strap or cane as necessary. Even then however, such instances were used for instruction as Lady Margaret showed me how best to hold myself to present the person inflicting the punishment the best view of my charms and how to show that I was indeed being well punished, by body movements and of course by sound. In particular any inattention during our times of instruction would result in a prolonged whipping with the martinet, which was quite Lady Margaret's favourite instrument. So avid was I, however, to receive her teaching that such an event occurred on only one or two occasions. Towards the end of my instruction I was surprised when at the start of our daily class Lady Margaret removed her severe governess's dress and stood naked before me! My eyes devoured her charming frame: slim, taut and tanned golden by the West Indian sun. For only the second time in my life I felt intense sexual desire for another woman. "My dear Helen," she began, "since it is your lot to receive regular punishment I believe that, at least once, you should be permitted to know how it feels to give correction. Shall we begin with the tawse?" And she smiled at my surprise. On the table lay a tawse and a martinet. I took up the former and Lady Margaret bent over, resting her head on the table, pushing out her compact buttocks, adopting the posture that I had so many times before been forced to adopt. I hesitated, but at Lady Margaret's urging I positioned myself behind her and laid on with a will, although trying to pace myself, allowing pauses between strokes, just as my master does. My first attempts were not a great success - I stood too close, I became flustered and mishit my intended target. Nevertheless, with Lady Margaret's careful guidance I soon became quite adept and reddened her bottom most satisfactorily. Then I was allowed to use the martinet and again after a false start soon had my victim yelling lustily under the lash. As I worked the whip over her delicious, tensed, tanned bum-flesh my excitement grew, blood throbbed in my veins, pounding in my ears. I was in a frenzy of passion as, under my hand, another woman bucked and jigged feeling the painful bite of the martinet. Then I understood the immense pleasure I was capable of offering to my master in yielding up my body to receive such punishment

at his hands. I also marvelled at the colossal self-control which had until now enabled him, in the main, to forebear from sexual contact with me after punishing me. At that moment my world was red with lust - I needed, oh yes, I needed . . . By the time Lady Margaret called a halt, after graciously submitting to a real thrashing at my hands, my desire for her slender body had increased tenfold. My womanhood was awash with desire! I threw myself on my knees behind her as she remained bent over the desk, clasping her thighs and wildly running my tongue over her glowing nates. As I licked at her bottom my governess purred with pleasure, accepting my servile caresses. I became bolder, and parting her bum-cleft I inspected for the first time a woman's anal ring. Then, overcome with lust, I tongued along the secret channel, plunging my tongue at last into her nether hole, teasing the sensitive puckered orifice, tasting her spicy flesh. Again Lady Margaret allowed me free rein as she enjoyed my humble tribute. Then Lady Margaret stood, extricating herself from my embrace. She turned to face me and as I still knelt before her, clasped my head and drew my face to her, crushing my face to her shaven sex. At her command I licked over her hairless mount, parted her sex lips with my questing tongue and licked and sucked her sopping wet sex parts until she shuddered and cried out as a terrific climax overcame her. At my master's behest I was not to be afforded a similar relief. So, my face smeared with her musky spending, I was forced to pass the rest of the day, ravaged by frustration, attending to Lady Margaret's discourse. Of course I was not able to give my lessons the best attention that day, and so, at the end it was my bottom that tasted the martinet's sharp lesson. At last the time came for me to give my master a practical demonstration of all I had learned. I am sure that I proved satisfactory in every way! Lady Margaret attested to my avidity as a pupil and, as I believe, it was agreed that I was ready to pass from a state of novitiate and to enter on my duties as my Master's humble and willing slave. By the way of one final trial I again submitted to a thrashing under Lady Margaret's hands, witnessed by my husband and his still nameless collaborator. My behaviour under the lash and the erotic preparation of my body (Lady Margaret had oiled my entire body and had decorated me in heavy gold jewellery) certainly pleased and stimulated them all. Soon they were engaged in a truly lascivious orgy which I was made to witness but in which I was not to participate until allowed to frig myself to a climax for their diversion. By that time I was so near the edge that the merest touch on my engorged clitoris sufficed to give me a shattering orgasm. Then as they became engrossed in their own pleasures being again stimulated to fresh exertions by my display, I was largely ignored. I seized the opportunity to concentrate on my own relief. Maybe I was a little disobedient, but without some release I felt I must burst. I seized the martinet which lay abandoned and reclining in a large leather armchair I opened my legs and inserted the leather handle between my sex lips. I was sopping wet with lust and the improvised dildo slipped easily inside me right to the mouth of my womb. Stimulated by the sight of my master and his companion lustily fucking Lady Margaret I treated myself to a slow, delirious frig. With one hand I worked the leather handle slowly back and forth in my foaming sex while with the other I kneaded my swollen titties, teasing and squeezing my nipples. Gradually I increased the intensity of my frigging until at last a screaming, yelling, thundering climax overcame me. Such bliss. Such blessed relief. But how much better a real cock! Next day was appointed to mark my passage from novice to slave. There had been much talk of making me bear a more permanent mark of my Master's ownership and of my thralldom than the steel band which still encircled my throat. I freely admit that I shuddered at the thought, hoping against hope that I should not be branded like O. But now, like O, to please and obey my master I would gladly submit. The ceremony of my initiation was carried through in a most impressive way, witnessing to my mind my grave undertaking in embracing the sweet slavery now offered to me. Of course, I was humiliated, beaten and made to abase myself. All I joyfully underwent and placed myself entirely in John's hands. So now I bear his mark and am entirely at his service.

I had been promised that many new experiences would follow on from the end of my training. The first such experience came along very soon when we received a visit from Victor and Karl - oh and of course their 'niece' Paula. This was to be my "coming-out party', my first introduction into society as the property of my Master. From the start our gathering was erotically charged and as the evening progressed I became more and more excited. Would I at last be allowed some release from my enforced chastity? Would my master give me to his male companions to pleasure them and so allow me some small pleasure for myself? Might this be the time also for my master to use my body for his pleasure and truly take full possession of my person? I could only wait obediently on his pleasure. As the evening continued Paula and I served our masters with their meal and stood ready to do their bidding. Victor especially but Karl also both took their opportunity to fondle my bottom and thighs passing their questing hands through my slit skirt. Across the table I could see that John and his friend were also taking the same opportunity to explore Paula's hidden charms. Such treatment was humiliating because I was at yet unfamiliar with such blatant intimacies and I blushed bright red. But it was also very stimulating and my sex responded, filling with musky juice. It wanted but a little extra coaxing with the cane to make me wholly ripe and ready to abandon all inhibition (if indeed any were left to me). Of course this added stimulation was forthcoming for both Paula and myself. When, at last, I was stripped naked for their delight, it was clear that I was to be used for their pleasure and that any release I might enjoy would be merely incidental. I was examined minutely: my looks, my figure, my ripeness were all commented upon. It was both humiliating and intensely exciting! There would be pleasure for me! Pleasure in serving, pleasure in being used, pleasure in pleasuring. So they began. Victor seized my breasts. Squeezing, handling, tormenting, teasing, paining and pleasuring. Then I was on my knees, his hard flesh rod between my lips as I used all the artifice that Lady Margaret had shown me to please him, until at last he was spending in my mouth. Greedily I gulped down the creamy draught as my mind spun out of control. Then it was time for me to yield up the virginity of my bottom. They placed me on all fours and Paula spread my tight anal orifice with a lubricant to ease my violator's entry. Karl knelt behind me and introduced the very tip of his hard, swollen tool to the entrance of my puckered bumhole. Then nature overcame obedience for a moment and I wriggled free of this, to me as yet unnatural embrace, dislodging Karl's precarious hold. With a couple of stinging lashes over my bottom he reminded me of my duty. Karl mounted me again, gradually working his hard maleness into my bumhole until at last he was fully lodged in my fundament. I relaxed my rectum and pushed back assisting his entry, deepening his penetration. There was pain, but after the hurt, which was brief, there was delight as I felt myself filled and mastered. Karl began to work his tool in my anus and I clasped him with my rectal walls, now revelling in the delicious sensations. His hands roved over my body, kneading the flesh, probing my hungry sex. Then his moment of release was upon him and with a harsh grunt he released a torrent of his seed into my rectum, his tool jerking violently. Then he was finished and withdrew from my poor distended hole. Karl and Victor rested a while to recruit their energies as we watched my master and his companion use and enjoy the charming Paula. I must confess to a pang of jealousy as I watched my master mount her, pleasuring himself on her porcelain pale body as she squealed with delight. I well remember the power and vigour of John's body when he made love to me and my body longed for him after being so long set aside from his caresses. Paula too was subjected to a tawsing and showed herself a real habitué of punishment, absorbing the strokes on her well-formed buttocks without a murmur. Then it was my turn to pleasure Karl and Victor again. This time they both contrived to mount me, one again occupying my fundament while, at last, the other filled my womanhood with his swollen tool. John too condescended to use my mouth and I sucked avidly on his weapon as it pounded between my lips. When the men had fully satisfied their lusts for the time being Paula and I were allowed to enjoy each other. For the first time I gave and received love from another woman. Paula's slim body was glued to mine as we kissed deeply, tongues entwined. Then we mutually adored each other's bodies. My mouth and hands made free with Paula's flesh, caressing skin so soft and fine that the blue veins

beneath lent a bluish cast to the flesh like fine transparent porcelain. Throughout the night our orgy continued until exhausted and satisfied we climbed the stairs to our beds as the dawn came up. Other excitements have followed these events save for the one act I now so ardently desire. My master has still refrained from me. My place as his slave remains unconsummated. I crave for him to take me and use me, just as he allows others to use me. Only then will I know that my past sins have been truly forgiven and that he accepts me as his own again.

15: DEJEUNER SUR L'HERBE Helen's small coming-out party, her reintroduction into society, had proved most successful. The next day our guests left well satisfied with the entertainment we had provided. Our opportunities to introduce our lovely pupil to a wider range of experiences had far exceeded our hopes. Paula, with her master's permission, kissed Helen hungrily on the mouth at parting and gave her a backward glance filled with longing as she was led away. Both Victor and Karl remarked, not only on Helen's well-formed beauty, but also on her obedience and her resilience under punishment. It was now obviously time to bring Helen's period of seclusion to an end and to return a degree of normality to her life. It had never been our intention to keep her a prisoner for any indefinite period. Such treatment would have presented many problems in our modern age and would not, in any case, have tended towards our truly desired end. It had rather been our purpose to use such temporary duress to bring to the surface in Helen her own natural inclinations towards obedience and submission to which I have already alluded in this narrative. In this way we had aimed - successfully - at producing a willing slave, eager to please her master either by serving his whim or by happily disposing her body for his pleasure. For some time now we had no longer needed to restrain Helen, except for our own pleasure (and for hers too, if the true extent of her feelings be known). Her own mind and well-trained inclinations now provided all the bonds that were needed. It was now inconceivable that she would act in any way but that which would please her master. So it was that Helen was no longer chained to her bed, nor was the door to her bare room locked. Obediently the girl kept to her bed until the appointed time, then rose and diligently carried out the duties we had prescribed for her. It was time also to allow Helen out into ordinary society and to try the efficacy of our regime in the world at large. Together we took a trip into the nearby town where Helen was allowed to shop for some trifles for her wardrobe and to visit a hairdresser. Naturally it would now have been unthinkable for her to make any purchase or to change her appearance without her husband's approval, which, in public, she most discreetly contrived to solicit when necessary. Later, in the course of our outing, we dined together in a restaurant well known to John Marsh. Remember that this was the first time Helen had been allowed to sit with us and to eat with us. She proved a very model of obedience, sitting in silence and tasting the food we had chosen for her only when so directed. At the end of the meal, in a subdued tone, she thanked us both for such an enjoyable privilege. The horses were brought back from the local farm where they had been boarded out, and appeared none the worse for their experience. Their grooming and feeding, together with the continued upkeep of the stables, became Helen's especial duty. She was now allowed to ride and to exercise the horses, either with one of us in attendance or alone. Other aspects of her daily life, however, remained unchanged and in fact now became immutable facets of her servitude. First, she continued to be subjected to whatever punishment John Marsh might care to inflict upon her, at whatever time and place. Second, she was allowed to dress only as her husband might specify and for his own pleasure. Often her clothing would be selected from her extensive wardrobe of high-quality fashions; on yet other occasions she would still be required to adopt the more exotic forms of dress already described here, for the stimulation of her husband or his friends. Finally she was required to keep her buttocks bared at all times beneath her outer garments, ready for punishment or for John Marsh's pleasure, just as she had been instructed at the time of her

initiation. It was also time now to restore the life of the household to normality. Helen's duties had to some extent been involved with keeping the house clean and tidy. A house of such dimensions, however, with many rooms and extensive formal gardens, cannot function properly, without servants to busy themselves with its upkeep. Naturally, during Helen's training their presence would have been inconvenient. Now, however, the need to re-employ the household staff was becoming somewhat pressing. Agencies were therefore contacted and a day appointed for some minimum complement of staff to take up their duties. It would soon be time for me to take my leave also, my usefulness now being at an end and our objectives being attained. There was nevertheless one last act to be played out in our little drama, one last rite of passage for the charming Helen to undergo, before, as I thought, I could return to London. It was now high summer, and unusually for England, very warm and sunny. The meadows were lushly green, sprinkled with wild flowers, especially poppies which formed a red carpet amidst the green grasses. The trees were in full leaf now; the forest promising cooling shade at the height of the day. When last we - Helen and I - had visited the woods in our quest for birch twigs, I had formed a notion that this same spot could provide the scene for this last rite. At that time I had called to mind that strangely evocative painting "Dejeuner sur l'Herbe' by Edouard Manet. You know the one, where two fully clothed men sit on the grass with a naked girl. I have always wondered to what use the cane in the foreground had been put! Anyway, I persuaded my friend that a picnic in the woods would be just the thing to round out Helen's training. So it was that on a sunny morning in August we set off across the lawns, just as we had done earlier in the year when we set off in search of the birches which we later used on Helen's naked and defenceless flesh to such good effect. As then, we gained the lane through the iron gate in the high walls which surrounded John Marsh's estate, crossed the lane and plunged into the woods. This time there were no other people to hamper our progress, we three were as if all alone in the world. The silence of an English summer day surrounded us with its somnolent, drowsing atmosphere. We had dressed Helen in a cool white cotton summer frock; the loose skirt played about her bare calves. Today, white low-heeled sandals replaced the heavy boots of our earlier expedition. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat low over her face to shade her from the strength of the morning sun. In all she presented a charming picture of a healthy country girl out in the woods for an outing with two older admirers. We strolled on through the forest until, at length, we reached the clearing where the birches stood. High overhead, nearing its zenith, the sun shone down into the clearing, brilliantly lighting and warming the central part of the glade. Around the edges, however, the tall trees cast a cooling shade for us to take refuge against the heat of the day. We laid rugs on the ground and sat while Helen set out the meal we had brought with us. Then John Marsh and I fell to, to satisfy the appetite we had acquired on our ramble. Helen knelt beside the cloth on which the appetising fare was set out, handing plates, pouring wine and generally attending to our needs as had become her place. For dessert we had brought some lusciously ripe fruits: peaches, strawberries, nectarines. Helen busied herself cutting and pitting these, covering her hands in their sweet juices up to her wrist. To complement this feast of sweetness we had an excellent Muscat de Beaumes de Venise. The thick, sticky, pale yellow wine, heady with the aroma of grapes was well chilled and mingled deliciously with the abundant sweet juices of the fruit. Sated, we lay back, listening to the silence of the wood, counterpointed by the lazy drone of bees. The world drowsed under the heat of noonday. Helen, still kneeling, was then permitted to eat as we dozed in the tranquil heat of the afternoon. It was John Marsh who stirred first from this delicious torpor. Helen had finished eating and had cleared the remnants of our meal, leaving some fruit and a little of the dessert wine ready to hand. "I think it is time for a little exercise," he murmured to Helen. "Bend over that fallen tree!"

Quickly, and certainly eagerly, Helen rose from her kneeling position and, as directed, bent over the same fallen tree that I had used when exercising her just a few weeks before. Her husband, bending low, took hold of the hem of her light cotton dress and drew the skirt up to her waist, revealing the pale ivory of her bare buttocks and the sturdy columns of her bare legs. All traces of former punishments had been effaced from the creamy flesh, leaving the firm, resilient rondure of her bottom unblemished. From the picnic basket my friend retrieved the leather tawse, the same instrument which had been used at the time of her initiation. Helen was now no stranger to the feel of that supple tongue of leather as it punished her quivering bum-flesh, having experienced it on many occasions. John Marsh ran his hands over the out-thrust buttocks, fondling the silky firmness. He took his stance, drew back and let fly. The loud thwaack! of leather on yielding flesh cut the stillness of the forest. Helen's creamy bum-cheeks blushed hotly as the old familiar fire was rekindled and spread through her body, fingers of pain grasping her nerve ends. Again his arm drew back, again leather smacked on flesh, again the redness suffused the ivory globes. Steadily John Marsh applied the tawse over the whole area of her buttocks, administering a good old-fashioned thrashing. Helen bore all silently save for the heavy intake and exhalation of her breath before and after each stroke which cracked across her undefended nates. As my friend got into his stride Helen relaxed her bottom, the cheeks parting to reveal glimpses of her anal hole and her sex. She slumped against the tree but continued bravely to thrust out her bottom to meet her punishment head on. Eventually her husband decided that she had absorbed enough of this leathering and with a final bum-searing stroke squarely applied across the fullest roundness of her plump bum-cheeks he left off. Helen's bottom glowed fiercely red, contrasting with the cool pale flesh of her legs and flanks. Helen remained bent over the tree awaiting her master's command. A cool breeze sprang up to soothe her fiery bottom. John Marsh spoke to her: "Well Helen, tell me how that feels!" "My bottom feels like it's on fire! It must be bright red. You did lay on hard." "Yes! Yes! Of course your bottom hurts - it's delightfully red. But how else do you feel?" "Oh," said Helen, understanding beginning to dawn, "I feel incredibly randy! Yes, I always do feel so sexy when my poor bottom has been well punished." "Then I must see if we can do anything to relieve you," John Marsh concluded and began to remove his clothes. Soon he was quite naked, standing behind the recumbent Helen, his male organ healthily erect, pointing towards Helen's glowing bottom. With his forefinger he probed Helen's anal cavity. After this nether hole had been deflowered by both Victor and Karl, we had fitted Helen with a series of anal plugs or false phalluses which she wore from time to time to dilate the muscles of that tiny hole and thus ease future entry, enabling her with ease to accommodate most erections without prior preparation. Although this measure was starting to show its effect John Marsh was still not convinced that this day his entry could be easily effected. A small bottle of olive oil (amusingly extra virgin) stood amidst the debris of our feast. My friend poured some onto the palm of his hand and liberally anointed his erect member. He also smeared some of the lubricant around the entrance to Helen's anal tunnel. Then, glistening with the oil, he placed the crown of his cock at the entrance to Helen's nether hole. Grasping her waist he drove his hardness into her until he was some halfway embedded in her fundament. Helen gasped with the shock of this sudden violation of her anal cavity. Standing behind his wife and grasping her firmly John Marsh then began to work his erection in the tightness of her rectum, the supple muscles grasping at his fleshy shaft. Gradually he advanced until he was fully embedded in Helen's tight bumhole, his belly flat against her bum cheeks. Helen

squealed with delight as her husband at last penetrated her fully, gyrating her hips to intensify his pleasure. He drew back, then rammed home again with his full strength, fucking hard at the tight rear hole. His belly and Helen's buttocks were liberally coated now with the olive oil, the skin glistening in the afternoon sunlight. Releasing her hips, his hardness still firmly rammed into her anus he worked his hands over her bottom, kneading the oily slick mounds he had so recently tortured with the tawse. Helen, reminded of the ache in her painful nates, moaned throatily. Again, John Marsh began to work his hard maleness in the delightfully tight tube, the walls of Helen's rectum clinging to the hugeness that probed her. Then with a cry he lunged, reaming his tool deep into her; Helen's eyes opened wide as he drew her to him on his erect stem. His buttocks clenched and his seed erupted from him in a heavy spending, filling Helen's bum-hole to the brim. He released his grip on Helen's waist and withdrew his deflating member from her, trailing the residue of his spending across her bum-cleft. He drew her upright and attending to the fastenings at her back, loosed her dress, letting the thin cotton fall from her body to gather in a pool at her feet. She stepped out of the heap of material. John Marsh, behind her still, released the catch of her bra and the garment fluttered to the ground as the rich creaminess of her breasts tumbled free. Helen stood gloriously naked as the bright sunlight bathed her body. John Marsh had her kneel on one of the rugs as he, similarly naked, his now flaccid manhood nestling between his thighs, reclined beside her. She prepared a ripe peach, feeding him segments from her fingers and herself partaking of the ripe fruit as the juice dribbled sensually down her chin. She placed a piece of the ripe peach in his mouth, then placing her open mouth on his took the morsel from his mouth into her own, swallowing the mixture of fruit, juices and her master's saliva with every indication of sensual relish. John Marsh poured her a glass of the Muscat de Beaumes de Venise. She sipped the thick, sweet liquid, licking her lips with pleasure. She urged him to take a mouthful, then again their mouths locked together and she drank down the sweet wine from the cup of his mouth. She leaned back, still on her knees, and stretched out, luxuriating in the warmth of the afternoon sun as it kissed her skin. Her breasts thrust proudly forward, her belly concave. John Marsh took up the still half full bottle of sweet wine and poured a cascade of the thick, heady liquid over her uptilted breasts. The viscous, clinging liquid coursed over the rich flesh mounds, bathing the rosy nipples, then splashed over her belly, forming a little pool at the navel before flowing on down to her mons and mingling stickily in the forest of her black pubic thatch. John Marsh, his mouth open, began to lick the sweetness from his wife's body. His busy tongue plied back and forth over her firm, wet breast flesh, his lips pursing over each ripe nipple, drawing the erectile buds into his mouth and sucking each sweet droplet of the wine from her body. His tongue followed the course of the wine cascade lower, licking at her belly, lapping thirstily at the pool of her navel, then down until his face was buried in the black forest at her mount. Helen lay back as he parted her legs and applied his mouth to her lower lips, his tongue lapping at her sex. His fingers parted the labia and his tongue plunged into her cunt, slurping greedily at her juices. He lapped at Helen's wide-open sex, the sweet taste of the wine mingling with her muskytasting juices, smearing his mouth. His probing tongue teased her clitoris, sending deep shivers of erotic sensation through her loins. Helen's hands clawed at the rug as climax after climax erupted in her. She lay back luxuriating in the fierce sensations which the ministrations of her master's tongue were sending coursing through her body. John Marsh's manhood was how healthily erect again, the red tip rearing upwards to his belly. At last he raised his head from between Helen's thighs, his lips smeared with her musky spending, and directed Helen to kneel on all fours. He knelt behind her and with a single easy motion embedded his rampant erection deep in her womanhood, as his belly slapped against her still reddened bum-cheeks. Held fast in her sex, Helen's vaginal muscles grasping his manhood, he pleasured himself using her ripe body, running his hands over the smooth skin of her back, kneading the softness of her belly flesh. He reached forward and clasped one richly heavy breast in each hand as they hung beneath her body, kneading the pliant

flesh, drawing his hands down the flesh mounds, moulding them into cones until he pinched each stiffened nipple between thumb and forefinger. Steadily he increased the pressure on the massy globes and their cherry-tips until Helen's face contorted with anguish and she squealed in pain. Still clasping the milky flesh of her tit-mounds, that filled his grasping hands to overflowing he then began to move his hips, fucking sensually into her overflowing womanhood. Helen thrust back her hips to meet each probing stroke, her head lolling in ecstasy, her eyes tight shut. A continuous low purring like a cat's came from deep in her throat. He released her teats and grasped Helen tightly around the waist, his nails clawing at her softness. The pace of his strokes quickened, the violence of the fucking rocking her body, her breasts bouncing wildly as she absorbed each new thrust. His buttocks tightened again and he thrust home hard, drawing Helen on to his shaft, his spending pouring into her in a vast, sticky womb-filling stream. Satisfied he released the girl who, trembling with passion, sank to the ground, releasing his deflated weapon. John Marsh laid his head on his wife's belly and naked in the afternoon heat the two sated lovers drowsed. Silence returned to the glade save for the soporific buzzing of the bees and the distant birdsong. I helped myself to another glass of wine and slept myself. Later, as the sun began to set and the evening cool began to steal over us, we cleared away the remains of our open-air feast. John Marsh and Helen resumed their clothes and we made our way back through forest and meadow until just about twilight we reached the house. Helen was again busy, drawing baths and arranging fresh clothes for her husband and myself, attending personally to all her husband's needs as she had been coached by Lady Margaret. Then she too was permitted to bathe and repair the ravages of the day on her appearance. The next day had been appointed for the return of the servants and the restoration of a normal regime in the household. After the events of that summer afternoon, when John Marsh had consummated his new relationship with Helen, we were a somewhat subdued gathering. Tired by the events of the day we retired early and slept soundly.

16: REVENGE The next day as planned the servants returned and John Marsh's house came alive again. The gardener and his assistant set to to repair the neglect of the formal gardens and lawns. Rooms long shut up were reopened. There was a general frenzy of cleaning, of polishing and of setting to rights. The housekeeper and the cook who had been sent away on an extended paid vacation returned and occupied their old apartments again. All of this, of course, meant that we had to become more circumspect in our behaviour. We no longer had the freedom of the house and grounds to torment Helen as and where we pleased. "Not in front of the servants," as they say! We were joined, however, by one of my host's employees who could, by virtue of his close involvement in his employer's schemes and the total trust my host placed in his loyalty and discretion, be admitted to our more intimate and private doings. This was Simon, who among other services acted as my friend's chauffeur. During the long months of Helen's training, Simon had taken temporary accommodation in the village nearby. Whenever John Marsh had had need of the car, to go up to town or to the airport, a telephone call sufficed to have Simon at the door within a few minutes no matter at what hour of the day or night. I now also learned that Simon accompanied my friend on all of his trips abroad. Now he too moved back to his apartments in the sprawling Tudor mansion. It became apparent that among Simon's other roles, he fulfilled the position of head of security charged with protecting my host and his extensive property. All the while he had stayed out of sight in the village he still oversaw the security arrangements ensuring that we remained discreetly cut off

from the outside world. His erect bearing, close-cropped hair and habits of dress gave him away as an ex-soldier. He had in fact served both as a Royal Marine and later as a member of at least two less orthodox fighting forces. His compact powerful frame also fitted him for his role as his employer's protector and, as I later found, for duties on the 'persuasion' side of John Marsh's business. Simon was, however, by no means a muscle-bound thug with no intelligence. Indeed no. He spoke three languages passably well, possessed considerable expertise in the use of electronic surveillance equipment and in fact was a complete master of what is today a very technical craft. He was also a complete sensualist with a fine sense of erotic innovations as well as the capability to inflict the most subtle and excruciating pain on a chosen victim. So, as John Marsh's household reformed about him, I began to feel myself more and more at a loose end. The adventure on which we had embarked a few months before had been brought, as I thought, to a successful conclusion and I was anxious to be off back to London. A few days after the return of the staff I remarked to my host that I planned to decamp the next day. "No, no, my dear fellow. I cannot let you leave just now. It would be rank bad manners. Surely, you would wish to see the final act of our little drama?" I remarked that I thought we had brought matters to a very neat conclusion and could not think what more could follow. My friend, however, continued: "You recall that one of the themes of our exercise has been revenge or at least the expiation of sins? Specifically Helen's sins of infidelity against me. Certainly Helen has been well punished and is now quite forgiven. "You asked me once if I planned to revenge myself on Helen's partners in those infidelities. I affirmed that indeed it was my intention to exact some recompense from them. It is not my way to let a wrong go unpunished. Well, while you have occupied yourself here in assisting me with Helen's punishment and, more importantly, her translation to my slave, I and others have taken care to serve the other parties involved according to their just deserts." Here he nodded to Simon who was sitting with us. Simon returned the gesture with an enigmatic grin. "As I say, all have been justly served. All that is except the young man whom I first caught with Helen. The young man who set off the train of events which has brought us to today. I mean young Mark Wright of whom we have heard so much." My companion paused and smiled to himself. "I have saved Mark Wright's punishment until last," he resumed, "and today is the day when he will learn a signal lesson. I cannot but think that you will wish to be present when he learns the error of his ways and sees what a transformation we have wrought in our dear Helen." Now I saw what he had been driving at and was glad to postpone my departure and the necessary prior preparation in the light of such promised excitement. Just then Helen came into the lounge where we had been sitting, bringing a pot of fresh coffee. "Helen, my dear, you have arrived just at the right time. We were just discussing how we should arrange for young Mark Wright to receive some punishment for his part in the deceptions which you practised on me. Do you think you could inveigle him to come here? Today?" Helen thought briefly and responded quietly: "Yes, I am sure I could. I would have to persuade him that there would be no danger of getting caught out again - but that should be easy enough. Certainly his lust for me will cloud his judgement, will make him incautious." "Good! Then telephone him now while we listen in. Get him here as soon as you can." With total obedience Helen went straight to the telephone and began to dial the number. We three picked up extensions which were placed about the room and listened in. Briefly we heard the ringing tone, then the distant receiver was picked up and a male voice answered. "Hello, Mark, do you remember me?"

"Helen! Good Lord! It must be a year. I expected never to hear from you again - or worse, to hear from your husband." "No need to worry on that score. I've smoothed everything over. Of course, I've had to be very discreet since then, keeping a low profile. John has kept a close eye on me too, but I am sure he is letting up now." "Well that's good news. So why are you calling now?" "Because I've missed you, silly." This with a hint of a pout in her voice. "I want to see you. I want you." "But do you think we should? I don't know . . ." "Everything will be fine. John's away on one of his interminable trips - we won't be disturbed." "That's what we thought last time, remember." "Oh, gosh!" - a hint of exasperation - "do you think I would be that careless? He's in Caracas. I phoned him last night and there are no flights for two days - I checked. I'd love to see you. We'd have such a good time." Her tone wheedling now. "Well, are you sure?" "Certain. Do you want to come or not?" Silence at the other end. Desire struggling with good sense. Desire won. "OK, see you in about an hour?" "Yes, fine - look forward to it." Helen hung up the phone with a look of triumph and glanced at her husband, seeking his approval. "Well done, Helen. You shall be rewarded. Now, Simon, we have a bare hour to prepare, so come along." That hour passed in a flash, as time does when one is profitably occupied. The Blue Room was designated, quite naturally, as the place where Mark should be made to make amends. As we have seen the room had been carefully fitted out as a punishment chamber. Above all it had been well sound-proofed and fitted with high-security locks which could be operated remotely from a control panel in the adjoining room. In the Blue Room, therefore, we could act with impunity, undisturbed by and without disturbing the rest of the household. We used the time available to place out of obvious view some of the more alarming furnishings with which the room was now equipped - the stocks, the punishment bench and so on - in order to avoid forewarning our intended victim. The four-poster bed with its black satin cover was left untouched. A smaller annexe room adjoined the Blue Room, with a communicating door between. As the hour of Mark's arrival approached John Marsh, Simon and myself made ourselves scarce and took up our station in this anteroom. We should have a splendid view of events as they unfolded in the main chamber thanks to a window of one-way glass let into the wall (as was the case with several of the rooms in the rambling old house). And so we waited. Helen's task was now to ensure that our prey should enter the trap, a trivial enough task given the young man's evident eagerness to resume their illicit relations at the point where they had been interrupted. The young man was punctual to the minute. A bare ten minutes later the couple entered the room, Mark with his arm loosely about Helen's waist. As the couple embraced, mouths meeting in a passionate French kiss, Simon operated the remote doorlocks. The trap was sprung. It now only remained for us to await the right psychological moment to confront our victim. Mark was already busy with Helen's clothing, drawing down the zip at the back of her dress,

tugging the sleeves over her arms and pushing the garment down her legs as they continued to kiss deeply, tongues sucking wetly. Helen stepped out of the pool of material which encumbered her feet and in her turn began to unbutton and unzip the young man's clothing. He seemed to find her lack of panties unremarkable, his hands making free with her bare buttocks as she eased his undergarments over his healthy erection. He was certainly too preoccupied with her opulent, silky flesh to remark upon the tattoo that now blemished Helen's thigh. Helen broke free from him and knelt on the bed, facing the mirror which on our side of the wall was a window. Mark, kicking off the remnants of his clothing, joined her. He knelt behind her, clasping her to him as his erection burrowed at her plump buttocks. He released the catch of her bra and Helen's heavenly breasts tumbled free. He ran his hands riotously over her body, squeezing the mass of tit-flesh he had released, pressing his stiff rod into her bottom. The moment had come! With John Marsh at our head we burst through the connecting door and into the room. Before Mark had time to react Simon was upon him, pinioning his arms in an unyielding grip, dragging him roughly from the bed, bracing him upright, a knee in the small of his back, so that he faced his accuser. "But . . but . . he spluttered as his erection wilted and Simon's grasp bruised his upper arms. "But you thought I was in Caracas," John Marsh supplied the words the young man lacked, "and you thought it was safe for you to make unauthorised use of my property." The youth coloured and looked wildly about him. He struggled briefly but Simon simply increased the pressure on his upper arm and he was stilled. At a nod from his employer Simon released him and Mark slumped, cowering wordlessly on to the floor, making a vain attempt to cover his nakedness. It was a very strange sensation to look down on the cowed and naked figure. Here at last, literally in the flesh, was a man whom I had heard described at length and that very often. Here was the muscular frame covered with a mat of coarse dark hair, here the massive endowment. This creature who now grovelled before us, I had heard his sexual exploits recounted almost daily. I had known him intimately without actually meeting. Now here he was, at our mercy. "I am always fascinated by the advantage clothing affords one when you have stripped your adversary naked," my host remarked coldly, addressing nobody in particular. "Now listen to me, Mark Wright," he took up again. "The last time we met was in a similar circumstance. You have practised deceit on me and have used my property without permission. You must learn that to everything attaches a price. Now is the time for you to pay your reckoning. "I expect you will learn much from the experience we have in store for you. Remember, learning also costs - I will have the price from you. "Now Simon, strap him up." At this command the impassive Simon picked the young fellow up bodily and secured him to a punishment frame which we had left standing in the corner, obscured by some drapery. The youth was thus fixed upright on the frame, immobile, his limbs spread in the shape of an X. Our leader motioned to Helen, who had been standing quietly to one side while her erstwhile lover was being fixed to the frame. Obediently she came to his side. He turned her so that her thigh with the proprietorial mark could be seen by the astonished young man as he hung on the punishment frame. "See here and remember!" my host remarked, pointing to the tattoo. "Now I have marked my possession. Have a care in future that you do not overstep the bounds of property. "Now Helen," John Marsh continued, "since you have suffered greatly because of this young fellow, I want you to begin his punishment." So saying he handed the young woman, who stood still naked but for her stockings, a heavy, many-thonged whip, a true 'cat o' nine tails'. "Lady Margaret led us to believe that you are now something of an adept with the martinet. This

is a much fiercer weapon. So lay on and do not spare him." Helen calmly and with every indication of willingness took the proffered instrument and took up her position behind the frame, in reach of the naked back and buttocks of her former partner in lust. She swung back her arm and let fly the vicious whip, splaying the thongs over the youth's back. Her lack of experience told, however, and the force of the blow merely raised a shocked whimper from her victim. "Come now, Helen. Stand a little further back. Take your time. Select your target - shall it be his tight, boyish arse, or maybe those fine lusty shoulders? Now keep your eye on it, just like tennis. Now lay on again and do not spare him!" Helen took the advice she was given and soon got into her stride. Her eyes shone as she lashed viciously at Mark's exposed back and buttocks. The flesh was soon criss-crossed with vivid red streaks. Hanging on the frame the lad now cried out huskily as the leather thongs tore at his body. His good-looking even features were contorted in anguish. It was only too evident from her ecstatic expression that Helen was deriving a deep pleasure from so tormenting her former lover. Her eyes were wide now and her tongue played over her lips. After some dozen or so lashes John Marsh called a halt and Helen came to his side again, standing in front of their victim as he hung, groaning softly, spreadeagled in the frame. "See, Helen, how even in pain there is pleasure," remarked my host indicating Mark's groin. Indeed, under the lash his heavy phallus had become erect and now jutted thick and hard from the mass of black pubic hair. John Marsh was holding a short leather strap. He had been toying with the supple hide as Helen had whipped Mark. Now he drew back and slashed it sharply across the youth's upstanding erection. A second and a third cut followed quickly as the poor fellow screamed and his face contorted again into a grimace of agony. "Down on your knees now, like the bitch you are. Take him in your mouth!" Obedient to her master's command Helen went down on all fours, her face level with the fierce red crown of Mark's straining phallus, which even in its pained state had refused to wilt away. Without hesitation she engulfed him, her red rouged lips straining to encompass the thick shaft, her cheeks bulging as she took him into her mouth. Mark groaned, closing his eyes as she tongued and sucked at him. As she mouthed the huge rod of angry flesh Helen thrust her bottom upwards. Her husband could not resist the clear invitation and again the leather strap came into play as he slashed at her buttocks, quivering and reddening the firm, generous flesh. Putting up the strap my host stripped off his own clothes, showing himself also to be in a condition of fierce excitement. Kneeling behind his wife he parted her thighs and mounted her, his penis embedding in her womanhood in a single thrust. Grasping her waist he rode her as she continued to suck on Mark's great phallus. John Marsh pulled his glistening tool from out of her sex and parting her buttocks entered Helen's fundament. For a while he alternated between her two nether orifices until at the last, embedded to the cods in her womanhood, he spent a torrential womb-filling flood. It was evident that Mark was now on the point of spending himself under the ministrations of Helen's lips and tongue. John Marsh seized his wife by the hair and roughly pulled her away from the youth's throbbing organ, just as a stream of jism erupted from him. The creamy flood jetted full in her face, streaming over her chin, down her neck and over her bosom. "Now stand there and watch us finish our work."

So, with the stains of her lover's spending drying on her soft skin, Helen stood facing him as her husband took up the whip and readied himself behind his victim. "Now we shall complete your lesson and I assure you it will be such as you shall not forget in a hurry!" John Marsh plied the whip, putting all his force behind each blow, no longer toying with the boy but inflicting deep, agonising wounds. He used the whole canvas of the young man's naked body, back, buttocks, legs to write his message of pain, as the youth jerked and danced under the blows, suspended there on the punishment frame. Helen looked on, vivid excitement and avid enjoyment of the spectacle written clearly on her face. Simon intoned the count as each blow struck the tormented figure, "One . . . two . . ." Mark tossed his head maniacally from side to side, screaming from the bottom of his lungs. "Twenty-one . . . twenty-two . . ." Helen still looked on, face flushed, eyes bright. "Now my young friend, I hope you are taking your lesson to heart. Remember in future to respect my property." And John Marsh dropped the lash. Without ceremony he released the youth and dumped him face down on the bed. "Helen, bring some ointment for your lover's wounds. Then get out of here and clean yourself up. You are not fit to be seen." We left Simon tending to the young man with the salve that Helen had fetched before she, as her husband had directed, took herself off to attend to her ravaged appearance. I was a little troubled at this turn of events. I wondered if my friend, in dealing with young Mark in this summary fashion, had not opened himself to some reprisal. Maybe the young fellow might even have recourse to the legal authorities. I shared my thoughts with my host as we relaxed over a glass or two in his study later that day. My friend merely smiled and commented: "No, no, I have no such qualms. In the first place young Mark Wright deserved his lesson and he knows it. If he charged me with assault, or whatever, the whole business of his adultery with Helen would come out to his embarrassment and to hers. On that score alone I count on his silence. "Secondly, I myself constitute a large portion of the legal authority in the county. I am a magistrate and I am on intimate terms with the Chief Constable. "Today we have taught our young friend two valuable lessons. First, of course, that harsh penalties are exacted when one trespasses on my property. Second, however, was a little lesson about himself. You saw how he reacted under the lash at first. I think he will find much to ponder there. At first he will have no wish to share that experience, that self-knowledge, with others. Then he'll look to repeat the experience and I shall be on hand to assist him. "Finally, now that he has had his lesson, I mean to make him my creature. He can prove useful in my, ah, enterprises, let's say, what with his looks and his abilities. I may even let him have Helen from time to time for my amusement. For the time being he can stay here and enjoy my hospitality until he recovers a little." As ever my friend was proved right. Mark stayed on for a few days, became one of our house party and became one of my host's dependants. He took his punishment and learned much from it and has latterly often proved useful to his mentor. John Marsh went on, "You may also be wondering what has become of young Mark's friend, the priapic Piers! Of course, following the precepts of revenge which you now know I make a point of adopting, it would be impossible that I should allow him to escape justice. Since, however, his part in Helen's many betrayals was small, the punishment meted out to him was nothing elaborate. Last night he had a quiet meeting with Simon at an out-of-the-way place. He should be fully recovered after about a month in the county hospital."

So for the next few days I stayed on and continued to play a part in my host's household. Then, our adventure being now truly at an end, I left for London to pick up the threads of my life in the great city.

EPILOGUE So it was that Helen's period of training under the strict regime I had prescribed to her husband a matter of seven months before now drew to a close. We had succeeded in forming from the wayward girl of the past a young woman, obedient to her master and intent on catering to his whim. She readily bent to receive any punishment he might devise; indeed she relished the bite of wood or leather, or the slap of her master's palm on her bared flesh, and revelled in her subjection. Many of Helen's former freedoms were returned to her, but now in the character of privileges earned by an unremitting obedience and submission to the will of her husband. Servants, as we have seen, were hired or returned from leave and she was relieved of her domestic chores and again became mistress of a household. She was still exiled from her husband's bed, unless he wished to pleasure himself with her. More suitable apartments were, however, provided for her. I took my leave of John Marsh and his wife as I have recounted towards the end of summer and returned to London to resume my old life and habits until some new adventure or opportunity might present itself. I opened up my flat in Kensington. I attended to a few business matters which had become pressing, visited friends, lunched with acquaintances and generally re-established myself in the social order of the great city. Towards the end of September I felt myself in need of a short holiday, and so took myself off to my villa in St Lucia for a couple of weeks. There I was able to visit Lady Margaret and give her a first hand account of how her protégée Helen was progressing. The social evening with Victor and Karl where Helen's virgin bum-hole was first ravaged, and more especially where she had first tasted the delights of Sapphic love in the arms of the delightful Paula, quite fascinated my friend. I had returned from my Caribbean holiday only a few days when, late one afternoon, I was disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell. Helen stood on the threshold, a radiant smile on her attractive face. As ever her maquillage was immaculate, her dress elegant. She wore a tasteful and well-tailored light grey suit, with a white cotton blouse beneath. A string of pearls decorated her neck, where before she had been constrained to wear the velvet-covered collar, the symbol of her bondage. She was surrounded by an array of parcels and packages from some of the more expensive and exclusive Knightsbridge stores. She, and her impedimenta, entered in a cloud of Chanel, assisted by our porter who was in attendance. Once we were alone in the living room she handed me an envelope. I motioned to her to stand while I read its contents, which was a letter from her husband and master. "My dear friend," it began, "I shall be away in Paris for a few days on business. While I am away I have allowed Helen to do a little shopping in London. While she is there I thought it would amuse you to have use of her, so I have sent her to visit you. Please, as ever, use her as you wish! "Since you left us everything has progressed splendidly. Helen has certainly acquired the taste for obedience and for discipline. She is now totally submissive to my will. We have had several visits from Victor and Karl and indeed from others of our mutual friends so that Helen acquires new experiences daily. "After her introduction to 'the rites of Sappho' by the lovely Paula, Helen herself has become quite a devotee of female love. We have acquired a maid for her who with the right handling should provide a suitable companion for Helen in that direction. We also plan to train the girl in the paths of submission, which I trust will also come off satisfactorily. "When you have finished with Helen please return her to your friend, John Marsh." I looked up from this most pleasing communication and addressed the subject of its contents who

now stood before me. "Do you know what this letter from your husband contains?" I asked. "No sir, I don't. But my master has told me that I am to stay here with you until you give me leave to return to him. And, of course that I am to obey you in every particular as I did during my training." "Very good! Then I trust that you have been behaving yourself while you have been unescorted in London," I remarked. Helen blushed delicately, the scarlet rising to her cheeks, and with just the hint of a smile said: "Oh yes, I have been quite good. But then I have been very extravagant." She indicated her parcels that now littered my living room. "I do so enjoy shopping and the London stores do so put temptation in your way. Do you think I deserve to be chastised?" Her look was now positively arch. "Well, I think we had probably better see to it straight away. Strike while the iron is hot, so to speak. Especially as you are so obviously contrite. Let us go into the bedroom where we can be more comfortable." I led the way into my bedroom and seated myself on a high-backed chair. "I think a spanking will probably meet the present need, young lady. Remove your skirt." Helen reached behind her and released the fastenings of the garment which she allowed to slide down her legs and pool around her feet. She stepped out of it, gathered it up and folded it, placing it on the bed. "You had better take off your jacket and blouse too," I observed and obediently Helen unbuttoned the garments, slipped them from her shoulders and placed them on the bed. Beneath she was wearing a pale blue silk slip. She grasped the hem, raising it over her legs and rump until it bunched at her hips. Once again I was treated to the sight of the ivory pale smoothness of her bottom, the firm out-jutting rondure displayed beneath the batiste material of her slip. "Do you wish me to remain silent while you punish me?" she asked in the same quiet voice she now always used, a charming smile playing about her full lips. "No, Helen. You were always a noisy creature, whether in pain or pleasure. Let me hear how much good your punishment is doing you," I responded. I signed to her to drape herself across my lap, her soft belly ground against my awakening male hardness, her bare bum presented to my palm. We sat opposite a range of wardrobes fronted with a wall length set of mirrors. I could thus enjoy the reflection of the half-naked Helen draped across my fully-clothed lap. Her long hair hung forward covering her face. The dark stockings which she wore admirably complemented the pale nudity of her bottom and thighs. I allowed myself a few minutes to luxuriate in the feel of the soft roundness of her bare bum-flesh, presented defenceless for my gratification. I ran my hands over the tense nates, plumped and pinched the smooth flesh and probed the secret cranny of Helen's bum-cleft. Then I gathered my forces and raising my hand brought it down hard on Helen's right bumcheek - 'Craak!' Involuntarily the girl jerked her hips under the shock and rewarded me with a full-throated yell of pain. Then wriggling slightly she settled to enjoy the rest of her punishment. I dealt equally with each cheek, first right, then left, cupping my palm to enhance the sound of each full-blooded slap on the jiggling globes. With a steady vigour I laid on, my busy hand stinging with the impact as it beat a tattoo on the firm bucking flesh of Helen's rear and she gave voice to a variety of squeals, groans and yells.

As I spanked her, Helen turned her head to one side so she too could see herself in the mirrors as her buttocks reddened and her hips ground her belly into my now hard erection. Finally I decided that Helen had received enough of this treatment. My palms stung, her fesses were deep red and were certainly stinging hotly likewise. I directed her to rise. Her face was flushed and she panted with the exertion of receiving such punishment. Her sultry expression, the lids drooping heavily over her eyes and her full lips moist and slightly parted, told me all I needed to know. The spanking had done its job and brought her to a peak of arousal. I made her bend over the edge of the bed, taking care to position her so that by turning her head again to one side she could continue to view unfolding events in the mirrors. Her slip was still bunched at the waist exposing her glowing rump. Standing behind the recumbent young woman I began slowly and deliberately to remove my clothes until I was naked. My male member jutted out from my belly, heavy and erect. Taking Helen's bum-cheeks in both hands I opened the bum-cleft to reveal her anal hole. I fixed the head of my weapon in this tiny orifice and seizing Helen by the hips drove forward steadily and without hesitation until I was fully embedded in her. Since her nether hole had first been ravaged by Victor and Karl, her husband and still others had made regular use of Helen's orifice, so that its original resistance to penetration was greatly eased my weapon rammed home against only slight resistance. Helen's anal tunnel, however, clasped me tightly once safely within her, providing a delicious sheath for my manly hardness. gently now, I eased my rod back and forth in the tightness. Helen's rectal walls clasping my tool. I thrust my abdomen hard against her bottom, my victim groaning lustfully with each movement as she watched our reflections in the mirror. I clasped my arms about her, gripping hard on the soft flesh of her belly as I worked my erection in her tight little hole as a stream of delicious sensations rose along my penis to my balls. My hands roved over her exposed belly flesh, finding the luxuriant thatch of her mount, kneading the pudenda as she gasped and groaned in delight. Thus still firmly fixed in her anal cavity I let my hands find her cunt lips amid her pubic thatch and parting them, began to frig her, playing with her erect clitoral bud. A deep shuddering climax wracked her frame; her anus constricting, grasped my tool even more firmly sending renewed electric sensations along its length. I released my grasp on her sopping wet cunt and slowly withdrew my member from her distended bum hole. Bending, I began to run my tongue over the suave skin of Helen's bottom, moistening the cheeks with my saliva. Then tonguing became little nips at her flesh and then, suddenly, I clasped my teeth on a large portion of her bum-flesh, biting hard on the firm tissue. Helen yelled and jumped erect with the shock. A livid blemish now adorned her left buttock. Recovering, I made her sit on the edge of the bed. I grasped the bunched material of her slip and drew the delicate cloud of pastel blue material over her head in a single motion. I released the clasp of her matching blue bra releasing the abundance of her creamy breasts. I reached down and hefted the heavy mounds of yielding flesh. I toyed with the ripe cherry-tip nipples, teasing the nerve ends to sensual erectness. My erection strained upwards towards Helen. With a word I commanded her to take me in her mouth. She bent her head and enfolded the stiff meat in her red-rouged lips, drawing the whole length into the moist cavern of her mouth. Moving her head backwards and forwards she ran her tongue along its length until it was slick and shiny with her saliva. Gently I pushed Helen away so that she fell backwards, reclining on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. The creamy, cherry-tipped mounds of her breasts lolled on her ribcage. I straddled her chest laying the shiny wet length of my phallus along the valley between her breasts. Reading my will, without need for instruction, Helen grasped her heavy breast sacs, squeezing them together around my hard maleness. Slowly at first, then with increasing vigour, I worked my tool in the softly enfolding channel. At every stroke the fierce red crown protruded towards her chin. Helen, her head on one side, gloried in the sight of a naked rampant male thus using her flesh for his gratification. At each stroke her own

saliva and my seminal juices smeared her ripe mounds, lubricating the suave channel. I replaced her hands with mine, kneading the tit-flesh tighter around my pounding weapon. Between strokes I grunted an instruction and obediently she reached behind me and inserted a wellmanicured finger into my own bum-hole. Thus with each stroke I tit-fucked her massy breasts and enjoyed a delightful bum-frig. I felt my seed about to rise but I was not yet ready to bring this first lusty encounter to an end. I therefore released Helen's well-used bosom and dismounted. While I regained my composure a little, I again probed Helen's sex, parting the full, swollen labia and fingering the wet orifice that I revealed, smearing her juices over her clitoris and worrying the tight bundle of nerve-endings until her body again shuddered as she climaxed. Having gained an ascendancy over my lust I positioned myself standing at the edge of the bed and grasping her hips drew Helen onto my hard, fleshy rod, settling myself deep in her cunny. The muscles of her sex gripped me hard and I felt Helen's nylon-clad legs wrap tightly about me. Still gripping her tightly at the hips, fingers digging roughly into her flesh, I began to fuck her remorselessly. With each violent stroke my belly slapped hard into her, her breasts jiggling madly as her whole ripe frame shuddered under the impact. Helen, now overcome by passion, threw her head from side to side squealing in abandon until again a climax wracked her frame. Again I felt my seed mount to my balls. I withdrew my tool, covered now with Helen's musky juices and with a few strokes of my hand encouraged a healthy stream of semen to jet from my throbbing tool on to Helen's heaving frame, splashing her breasts and belly, defiling the smooth pale flesh with my sexcrement. In a languor of spent lust Helen massaged the creamy gouts of my spending into her skin, covering her breasts, her torso and anointing her mons. Then absently she raised her palms to her mouth, licking the residue from her hands. A short time later I sent her off, first to bathe her sullied flesh and repair a little of the ravages to her appearance, second to fetch a little refreshment for both of us. I kept her with me for some days, using her as I willed and enjoying her delightful body. For a brief while it was pleasant to squire this quiet, submissive and most attractive young woman to the London night spots, to visit the theatre or to dine together enjoying the admiring gazes of onlookers. It was also pleasant in private to run the whole gamut of punishments on her delicious body: During her brief stay she was made to taste of many old friends, including the riding crop. She, true to her husband's command, placed herself completely at my disposal, catering happily to my every whim and bending willingly to whatever punishment I might contrive to visit on her and then yielding her charming frame to whatever my lusts might subsequently contrive. It was thus that the efficacy of our scheme of training was finally tested. Helen had been completely faithful to her husband's bidding in placing herself in my hands even in his absence. We had truly succeeded in unveiling that strand of submissiveness which had lain hidden in Helen's psyche, enabling her to find fulfilment in a new life of total obedience. We had also revealed to the lovely Helen the joy to be found in experiencing pleasure through pain and the benefits of punishment and had brought her to a pleasing complicity in her own correction. I have since visited my friend John Marsh's household and enjoyed his liberal hospitality on several occasions. Helen continues to keep to her designated posture of obedience and her bottom often bears the trace of punishment. Indeed the training of a maid or companion for her now makes good progress. But that, as they say, is another story.