Part Two Army Officer free porn video

Chapter 2. The job
Jeremy lay in his bed gently massaging his hard on and wondered about the woman in the next room. She was quite a find. "Yes, quite a find. Not that I expected a woman like that when I invited her here. I expected a really old hag. It was really only my better nature that asked her to stay. Had to do something to spite that fat shopkeeper. I couldn’t see her spend the night in the open in that filthy weather either. If she’ll stay she may be better than getting someone from the Job Centre. No youngster but not bad looking and definitely experienced in taking punishment." He rubbed his cock harder. "I wonder what her typing skills are like? Perhaps her fingers will be better employed around my cock but if she can type then maybe I can get this damned journal translated."
The journal he referred to, was an old leather bound book started in 1831 by one Josiah Winsberly. "Damn that man," Jeremy mused, "Why did he have to write it in code? Did he think he was Samuel Pepys? Bad enough the writing is faded." However, he already knew the answer to that question, if the contents had been read while he was still alive he would almost certainly have been imprisoned or even hanged. So far he had only cracked the code and started on the first few pages but it was laborious to do it by hand. It was only a simple transposition of characters where A had become N and B transferred to O etc. It had taken him longer to crack than it should have because Josiah had added the numbers 0 to 9, the ampersand and the word ‘the’ written as /, as characters at the end of the alphabet. It was made a little more difficult as it was not always easy to distinguish between the numeral 0 and a capital letter O. Jeremy wondered at the education of the man and why he didn’t rise to a position higher than warden at a workhouse. "I guess there were other compensations," Jeremy mused, "Maybe I’ll find out when I get the this book translated. Jack Shearer said he could write me a computer programme for it once he had the code."
Margaret lay awake for only a short time. Not having slept properly for a week or more and being in a warm soft bed with a full belly, exhaustion overcame her and she slept through to near daybreak. Pulling the loaned robe around her she quietly went to the bathroom and peed. For while she sat on the loo thinking of the man and what he might do to or with her. He seemed straight enough but he had spanked her and she could still feel the effects as she sat on the seat. Returning to the bedroom she debated whether or not to get up and get away from this somewhat gloomy house but the wind driven rain on the window quickly quashed that idea. The bedroom might be a little chilly but under the covers on, lying on a mattress she was snug and warm. "He said he would give me the choice of staying or leaving in the morning. I’ll wait until then and hear what he says," she told herself.
*****
"My proposition is this, Margaret." They had finished breakfast. Margaret, now dressed in her own clean clothes, sat in the old wooden Windsor chair by the stove. There was no cushion so she moved around a little to make herself as comfortable as she could with a tender behind. "I’ve had much worse," she told herself as she waited for Colonel Jeremy to begin. Rain still beat against the glass of the windows. Since her spanking the Colonel had kept his word and behaved as a perfect gentleman. True to his word, she’d had a room to herself for the night. It may not have been luxurious. Just an iron frame bed, but the mattress was clean and he had provided fresh sheets and blankets. Margaret, for her part, tried to put her fear of him aside and behave as if the situation was a normal one.
"I need someone to help clean this place up. Two local women have already been to look at the job and turned it down as being far too big for the wages I sort to pay. A cleaning firm quoted an astronomical price to make a start on the downstairs rooms. If you are prepared to help with the work, I will provide board and lodging and we can negotiate wages at around minimum rate."
"Sir, it is not the work I am afraid of and it would be nice to have a roof over my head at nights but after last night, I am fearful you might punish me more and more. I have had enough of that sort of life. Living here alone with you, I fear also that you will want to do more than look at me."
"You are of course right in that respect. Last night I gave you my word I wouldn’t attempt to fuck you and you would be free to go in the morning. You can go immediately if you wish. However, if you stay, yes, I will expect to have sex you. You are an attractive woman and living alone with you, I know I would find the temptation to bed you, rather overwhelming. So you must take that into consideration when you make your decision." Margaret nodded. "From the stripes on your body, I doubt if my punishment last night was very significant." Margaret again nodded affirmatively. "Do you know what it is like to sleep with a man? Or have you kept yourself all these years for Mr. Right?" Margaret hung her head, blushing furiously. Puzzled the Colonel but he went on, "Yes I do get very horny and would make demands on your body but it would never be ****. If you stoutly refuse me, then you will have your way but I guess your stay here will be short. To be blunt and brutally honest, I will expect you to agree to share my bed for at least a semi permanent job. As to any punishments, they would be commensurate with the crime. Attacks on my character will, like last night, always demand retribution. Other faults such as laziness, would be dealt with on the severity of the offence. I may also wish to spank you to warm you up ready for sex. That was something I learned in the India where I was provided with a young woman for my enjoyment but it was only after her arse was well warmed, that she responded with great alacrity in bed. Since then I have found many other women respond in that way. Most punishments would be a hand spanking but I do have a variety of straps and canes for the more serious offences."
"So you actually want a whore housekeeper? Bet you didn’t put that in your advert for a house cleaner."
The Colonel looked at her sharply and then noticed the smile on her face. "No, I didn’t use those exact words." He too smiled and then turned more serious. "You said last night, you had worked as a secretary. Does that mean you can type?"
"Yes Sir, but I’m a bit rusty now and I haven’t had anything much to do with computers except on a couple of my temporary jobs. I had an electric typewriter at home but lately didn’t get to use it much."
"You may have to brush up on those skills as well if you stay. I need someone who ideally is, in the parlance of today, multi-skilled. Someone who is prepared to muck in with whatever needs doing. In this old place it could be anything from changing a light bulb to cooking to cleaning to .."
"Lying on a bed with legs wide open?" interrupted Margaret.
"That would be a bonus," smiled Jeremy. "No need for a rush decision though. My car is due to be returned at noon. You have until then to make up your mind. Wander around the house and grounds if the weather allows. See what you might be expected to do. See the extent of the cleaning. If we do it all, it will be a mammoth task but I guess the further rooms will be left until I decide if and how the place will be converted. For now I want to get the living spaces clean and modernised without looking modern and a few spare rooms for guests if any come here. Feel free to look anywhere except in my study where I will be working. I’ll make coffee at ten-thirty and you can ask questions then. If you decide to leave, you can either walk out of the door or I will drive you to town. At least you will have a full belly and clean clothes. If you decide to stay, I will still take you to town for a check up at the clinic, and to get whatever else you would need to stay here. I’ll leave you alone for the time being to think about what I have said."
Had Colonel Saunders-Smythe been a religious man he would have prayed she would decide to stay but he’d given his word that she was free to go and would hold himself to it however much his fantasy mind wanted her captive, chained and ready for him to whip and ****. Margaret might no longer be young but she still had some fire in her. With the right persuasion she might be able to satisfy his desire not just for sex, but his love of tenderising a woman and warming her body with a cane or strap before taking her unmercifully.
*****
Margaret sat in the passenger seat of the Mitsubishi 4x4 and peered through the windscreen at the puddles that still littered the road and glinted in the headlights. The rain had ceased for the time being but it could start again at any moment. She wondered if she had made the right decision by accepting the position of ‘whore housekeeper’. It was not the decision she wanted to make but the other option was far worse. How long would she live outside in this weather? She was no stranger to sex, even forced sex but how much force would be use? He’d said be wouldn’t **** her, she could refuse him but her time in the warm and dry would be limited. With winter fast approaching she would have to acquiesce. Would the man who seemed to have experienced sex in various countries make her do things that might be abhorrent to her? Would he thrash her often? They had agreed on a fortnight’s trial, with each having the option to terminate the agreement at that time. In her mind she looked at it as a f******n-day prison sentence but would that be any worse than the life she had led till now? Perhaps if she stayed a month at the end she would have a reference and enough money to pay her lodging.
At the clinic her tests revealed a clean bill of health, as she knew it would and they gave her a prescription for contraceptive pills. She had been taking them all the time she was with her father and she didn’t want to start a family now, certainly not with this strange military man. They had done the rounds of the charity shops and bought a few clothes that fitted her and on to a work outfitters where they obtained overalls and other necessary clothing for cleaning in a dirty environment. Now they were nearly back ‘home’; the workhouse that was to be her home for at least a fortnight. A huge monstrosity of a house, three storeys high but solidly built of red brick with a slate roof. So far she hadn’t seen but a fraction of it and only glimpsed its real size when she left in the car. Now again they were arriving back to the gloomy tomb in the dark.
They cooked a meal, washed up and then sat in front of a coal and wood fire supping a glass of wine. To Margaret this all seemed too good to be true. He’d not made any advances to her and treated her like a lady when they were in town. She chose the clothes she wanted for outside the house, but he had made it clear at the outset, the cost would come out of her wage packet although not in one lump sum. It was because of this that she’d spent so much time in the charity shops. He bought and paid for her work clothes and she guessed she would be wearing them most of the time. They had visited a small computer shop and there was the rather odd conversation about ciphers and him ordering an old computer with the codes set up. What was that all about? Questions kept coming to her mind. Would he allow her out on her own? Would she get time off? How much say would she get in the running of things? How often would she have to submit to him? Would she be punished? How badly? How severe would the warming before sex be?... As they sat comfortably in front of the fire she decided now perhaps was the time to ask.
"Colonel? Jeremy? What is my position here really going to be? Whore? Housekeeper? Slave worker? General dog’s body? Secretary? Or what? Sitting here like a woman of leisure, I’m confused."
"I can rule out some of those. You won’t be a whore because as I understand it a whore has sex with anyone. I shall keep you to myself. Slave worker? No. I shall expect a good day's work done but you won’t be worked from early morning to late at night but the hours will have to be flexible. As we agreed I will pay you by the week and not by the hour so there won't be a set starting or finishing time. General dog’s body? In some ways yes. I shall expect you to try and tackle whatever tasks come along that are within your capabilities. Housekeeper obviously but perhaps the best description for you will be unmarried wife. We’ll do things like a married couple except it may be more like a Victorian couple where the man was the master. Has that made it any clearer for you?"
Margaret nodded and muttered that it seemed not much different to her life at home. Tears came to her eyes. Jeremy noticed this and said, "Perhaps, perhaps not." For a while he sat and stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable. "Take off you clothes Margaret." It was an order. An order from an officer, "I want to have a good look at you."
"This is it," she thought. "Might as well get it over with." Starting to peel off her clothes she asked, "Jeremy, wouldn’t you like to put some music on and make me do a strip tease dance?"
"Not this time. Just get them off." It wasn’t long before Margaret stood naked before him, half hiding her breasts and pubic area with her arms. "Put your hands behind your neck. I said I wanted a good look at you woman." From the tone of his voice Margaret knew he was in military mode and hastened to obey. "Come closer." As soon as she was close enough, Jeremy started fondling her breasts and then thrust his hand between her legs. It took only a short massage before Margaret’s juices were flowing.
"At least he’s waited until I am wet," she thought, "That’s more than father ever did." Shortly afterward she found herself leaning over the arm of the settee while Jeremy’s cock thrust into her, doggie style. Although he did his best to give Margaret some satisfaction by playing with her clit as he fucked, he climaxed and shed his seed in her before her orgasm. "That’s nothing new," Margaret said to herself but was surprised and pleased when her partner never left her in this unsatisfied state but continued to masturbate her until she came as well. "Thank you Sir," she muttered when they parted and once again sat side by side. "Do you wish me to clean you Sir?"
"That would be nice, Margaret." The Colonel had reverted to what Margaret now called his civilian mode, "That is if you don’t mind." She didn’t. It was a task she had performed almost daily for many years. Kneeling between his legs she opened his flies as wide as possible and sucked on his soft, sticky member until it was clean.
"Thank you Margaret. I think I ought to perform the same service on you now." The statement shook her. Only once, when she was very young had her father done this. The surprise must have shown in her face because the Colonel went on, "You’re not used to that?" Margaret shook her head. "Well we’ll just have to see how you like it. Where I was in India, sex was almost part of their religion and it was considered a duty to make sure both partners were well and truly satisfied. I learned a lot from the woman they gave me as a temporary wife."
"Is that what you want me to be? Just temporary?" For a few moments Jeremy thought he had offended her but then saw her smile.
"Just change places with me and we’ll worry about job descriptions later," Jeremy smiled too as he laved her cunt and sucked her clit.
Chapter 3. Father’s abuse
"Margaret? I know you gave me the short version of your CV yesterday, but you left a great deal out, didn’t you?" Margaret barely nodded, she guessed what was coming. The pair lay cuddled together in his bed, fondling each other like a pair of lovebirds. He played with her breasts and pubic area because he wanted to, she played with him in the hope it would keep him happy and not beat her. "You are obviously very experienced sexually and from what you have told me so far, I guess it was with your father." Again the nod. There was a long pause before Jeremy prodded, "Tell me." Margaret slowly shook her head and she started to cry. "Tell me Margaret," Jeremy urged, "I would guess it is something you have wanted to get off your chest for a long while. I give you my word, I will not repeat what you say to anyone." For some minutes there was silence.
"I don’t know where to begin," Margaret eventually stalled.
"At the beginning perhaps. Like when did he start to abuse you sexually."
"You know he could go to prison if this ever gets out? Even after all he’s done to me, he is still my father and I don’t want that to happen."
"Margaret, I gave you my word. I will not speak to anyone about it. It is patently clear you have been through a trauma, many traumas and maybe getting them off your chest will help you. I’m not a counsellor but I can and will listen. I have seen and investigated things, horrible things, done to women and c***dren that would probably make you sick to hear so don’t be afraid to tell me anything. From my experience, talking does help." The Colonels mind recalled his time in Kosavo. Time he spent investigating the **** of Moslem women, c***d prostitution and murder. Margaret’s life might not have been easy, but it was surely less traumatic than theirs. "So did the abuse start early in your life?"
"Quite early I suppose when I look back. Mother always seemed poorly and then when her liver failed she wasn’t able to do much. Father always spent more time looking after me than she did. He was also the one who punished me. As far back as I can remember it was always on the bare bottom, most often at bedtime when I had nothing else on. He always maintained that nightdresses and pyjamas just made more washing for him. Later I realised there were other reasons. Mother only wore a nightdress when the nurse was due to visit and father always slept in the nude. When I was due for punishment, which seemed more and more often as I grew up, he would come into my bedroom wearing only his underwear and sit on the bed. I would be ordered over his lap and he would position my bottom and splay my legs so he could see everything and then spank me. I would wiggle and squirm and later knew what that did to him and why he was often wet in the crotch when he finished. Often he would come back later and put cream on. Again it was some years before I realised why he did it although even when I was quite young I found it quite pleasant especially after the soreness had gone down a bit."
"Did your mother not know what was going on?" enquired Jeremy.
"I guess she did but chose to ignore it. She was in the same boat in a way. He used to cane her when she displeased him although later when her illness progressed and the nurses came to visit every other day, he had to be much more careful and eventually had to stop altogether. Several times I had to watch while she was caned. He bent her over the end of the bed and gave her bottom a dozen hard strokes after which I was sent from the room. Once I peeped through the keyhole to see if he put cream on her. All I saw was his bottom going back and forth behind her. It was some time later I learned what they were doing."
"When did he start caning you?"
"That was some years later. First came the leather belt but soon after he bought an old razor strop at a car boot sale and shortened it. It really hurt but the marks faded quite quickly if he didn’t catch me with an edge. I must have been about f******n when he first used the razor strop on me. I wasn’t undressed and ready for him when he came in to spank me. I said I was too old to undress in front on him. My breasts were budding and I had a little hair growth between my legs and I had started my periods. When he left the room for a few moments I thought he had agreed but then he returned with the strop and just said, "Strip off." He had stripped off himself and came towards me with his cock erect. I had a pretty good idea of what would happen to me then. Prior to this after my spanking, he spent a long while applying the cream and rubbing it between my legs where there was no pain. I didn’t complain after the first time. That resulted in another spanking, the second being between my thighs. The last twice he’d made no pretence about the fact he was sexually playing with me. I was made to lay with my legs wide open and his fingers went right inside me. This time I knew it would be more than his finger inside. "Strip off," he repeated. I looked to see if there was any escape but he was between the door and me. I undressed but when I tried to hide my breasts and genitals he swung the strop and caught me across the stomach. I screamed but he only laughed and said, "You know what I am going to do, don’t you?" It was quite obvious as he had his cock in his hand and was pointing it at me. "Put your hands on your head. I want a proper look at you. All of you. Everywhere."
"By then I knew what sex was although I was still a virgin. One of my girl friends had an older boyfriend and they used to fuck in the long grass at the back of the school playing field at lunchtime. They took me along to keep watch in case a teacher came by. I cried out, "Mother, father’s going to **** me!" The strop struck my hip. Again I screamed.
Father only laughed. "If your mother comes in, it will only be to watch." The strop landed on my other hip. "How many more strokes of this before you do as you are told Margaret?" he asked. I put my hands on my head. His hands immediately went to my breasts and then between my legs and stayed there for some time fondling and playing with me. Before long he ordered me to bend over the end of the bed. "You’ve seen how your mother takes it so seeing as I am going to be treating you like an adult now, I shall punish you like one." For a few moments he left the room and returned with a long rope that passed under the bed. I knew what to expect. Each wrist was tied to the rope so my arms were spread across the bed. I was sobbing now, knowing this would be a real hard thrashing especially as this was the Easter holiday period and I wouldn’t have to go to school for two weeks and any marks would fade by then.
I was made to spread my legs as wide as possible. "I want your cunnie and arsehole winking at me." I remember him saying. Then the first stroke landed with a terrific WHACK!! I bucked and screamed and pleaded for him to stop but I knew he wouldn’t. I screamed for mother to help but she was sick and didn’t leave her room. "Perhaps you won’t feel so tetchy about taking your clothes off for me next time," he laughed again as though it was a big joke and laid another WHACK! across my bum. Ten more times he hit me with that strop before he finally put it down. I thought the pain incredible but that was certainly not the last time he treated me that way.
I just lay bent over and face down on the bed. Moments later I felt his prick at my entrance. It seemed too large but he forced it in. There was a stab of extra pain as he broke my maidenhead and then proceeded to **** me with considerable force. He was still laughing and joking that I would be getting a very different cream this time. From somewhere I had the presence of mind to yell to him not to make me pregnant and it must have got through because he pulled out and sprayed his cum over my arse. It was this cream he rubbed into my battered bottom.
I prayed it was now all over but it was not to be. Standing by my head, I was ordered to suck his cock clean. It looked revolting, all sticky and covered with my blood and juices and his cum but I didn’t dare not to put it in my mouth.
My humiliation still wasn’t over. After I was released he took me to his bedroom and showed my raw bum to my mother. She was very frail at this time but still looked shocked but he took her hand and made her feel the heat and pointed out the stickiness of the film covering it and the blood dribbling down my thighs. "Emily," he went on, "You’re not much use now to service a man, so I’m taking Margaret as a replacement. She’ll service me like you used to when you were in your prime. And I’ll keep her nice and tender like I did you for the first few years. Do you remember dear? Whenever the marks on your arse or thighs or tits faded, I’d replace them. She hasn’t too much in the tit department yet, but I guess after a few more fucks they will start to grow."
The next day I was taken to the family planning clinic and put on the pill. I had to tell them a boy at school wanted to have sex with me and I wanted to be prepared. After the pills took effect, I slept with in father’s bed every night and I became his wife in all but name. He fucked me alongside my mother. She tried to look away but he made her watch and sometimes she had to lick us afterwards. When I left school and there was less danger of anyone seeing the results of his beatings he did carry out his promise to keep my flesh tender all the time. By then he was into using the cane because he liked the stripy effect." Margaret was crying on Jeremy’s shoulder now and he didn’t want to push her further but did ask why she didn’t just up and leave.
"Partly loyalty I suppose. At first it was fear of him going to prison and my being put into care. After a while I didn’t mind the sex especially when I learned to control him a little and got satisfaction from it. I even didn’t mind some of the more gentle spankings but I did hate the thrashings and did what I could to avoid them. Later mother did make me promise on her death bed to look after him."
"Margaret, perhaps it will be better if we leave the remainder of your story till another time. I can see you’re upset from telling it."
"And I can feel it has made you horny," smiled Margaret, cheering up a little.
Chapter 4. Interview at the manor
Margaret stared at the old hand-written book with its unintelligible entries. Unintelligible that is until typed into this computer programme. Already from bits and pieces they had decoded to test the programme, she had an inkling as to what the journal contained; the sexual abuse of the women who came here for shelter by the man who was supposed to protect them. In many ways their life mirrored her own.
Sitting at the keyboard, Margaret mused that life for her during the three weeks she had lived in this gaunt old house had been very different to living with her father. Jeremy was a gentleman, strict but fair. She’d had a second hard spanking a week ago, one she had almost provoked, and had on a number of occasions gently warmed her breasts and pubic area before having sex with her but apart from that he had been kind to her. Like her father, Jeremy was sexually very active and liked to try a variety of ways and often several times a day. He also subscribed to an adult book club and made her read some of the juicier passages to him.
"Have you made a start yet?" Jeremy called as he passed the door. Nervously her fingers began to type.
The Secret Journal of Josiah Winsberly, Master of the Workhouse at Pennydelset, started March 21st 1831.
To anyone who finds this journal after I have gone and is able to unravel the ciphers I used, I trust you will find the account of my life and pleasures with the ladies at this workhouse in Pennydelset, most titillating. Had I thought of the coding earlier I could have written down my experiences at my former employment but they are now only past memories and it would take far too long to cipher them. Be assured, this is a truthful account of my exploits. An account that I dare not write in plain language for fear of it falling into the wrong hands and my being prosecuted and sent to prison or worse.
It is not my intention to write a day by day account in the form of a diary. I should have started some months ago had that been the case. Rather I intend to give accounts of incidents that occurred even if they happened over a period of some days.
For the record, I was appointed to this post at Michaelmas last year through the good offices of Squire Pemberton who knew of my work with the ladies refuge in Wyndmondham in Norfolk. He has a perchance for seeing women of all ages but particularly the younger ones, punished on the bare flesh with the birch or cane and then their bodies used as they should be, to satisfy men’s lustful desires.
Squire Pemberton visited me at the Norfolk refuge several times and I was able to arrange for him to witness a number of punishments and he particularly liked the way I humiliated them by making them undress completely for even a simple caning. Of course, while they were still strapped down after the caning, I allowed him to relieve himself inside any lady he fancied before I did so myself. He also praised me for having a young girl at hand during the punishment to suck our cocks clean. A freshly thrashed and sobbing woman doesn’t usually do a good job in that respect.
At my interview at Grange Manor, the squire’s home, for this position I gained a further insight into his likings and found them so very similar to my own. A young maid brought us some ale and upset the jug. She immediately became very fearful and pleaded forgiveness. Squire ignored them and simply said quietly to the trembling girl, "Mop up this mess Victoria and then take yourself to the punishment room and have Higgins make yourself ready for us."
We sat and talked for an hour or so about the position at the workhouse and my thoughts on keeping the ladies under control and what part he, as benefactor, would play. It quickly became clear he wished to see the ladies disciplined and we agreed that a Saturday evening would be the main punishment time although I would be free to punish any one at the time of the offence if I deemed it necessary. For minor infringements I would just put a cross by the lady’s name on a blackboard and these would be totalled and the appropriate punishment given on the Saturday when the squire would be present to aid me. To help keep the workhouse funds in good stead, he would bring friends to view the punishments and partake of the girls' charms for a fee.
Having finalised this the squire suggested we might adjourn to the punishment room and deal with Victoria. I found the girl lying on a peculiar piece of apparatus. It was akin to a carpenter’s sawhorse in that it had stout splayed legs at each end a little over two feet high. Connecting them was a spar about five feet long and six inches in diameter. The sides were hewn away to make it a triangular shape with the top of the rounded apex only a little over an inch wide. Along its length lay Victoria. Someone, I later learned it was Higgins the butler, had fastened her wrists tightly downwards to the front legs and her ankles to the rear. The bar parted her breasts and the crack between her legs. Victoria had been lying on it for some time when we arrived and was finding it most uncomfortable.
Squire invited me to inspect the girl, which I did. She had nice full tits that bore faint marks from a previous encounter with a birch rod, as did her arse. "Birch or cane," Squire asked. I opted for the birch. He gave me one and took another for himself. "You first," he suggested. I stood to one side and lay a stroke smartly across her bum. He laid on one from his side. So we proceeded to birch the flesh in front of us until it was fully covered with welts and Victoria was screaming for mercy at the top of her voice. "Isn’t that sweet music, Winsberly?" Squire asked, "I like to let them squeal a bit so the rest of the staff know I haven’t been soft on her." I agreed wholeheartedly.
"Which hole would you like?" I chose her arsehole and forced my cock in, which caused more squealing, and then rode her until I climaxed. Squire then released her ankles, lifted her slightly and rode her cunnie. While he was doing this another young maid came forward and shyly sucked me clean. I was most gratified he had seen fit to implement a suggestion I had made to him earlier in the year.
We left Victoria there for Higgins, to deal with. I am sure he and some of the other male staff poked her as well.
I was well pleased when I was appointed to the post, knowing I would have the squire’s backing for whatever treatment I gave the ladies in my care. However, I could not leave my position at Wyndmondham until Christmas and took my place here on January 1st 1831.
Margaret paused her typing and scrolled to the top of the screen so Jeremy could read it. "I think my father would have been quite a home here in those times," she remarked. "I’m sure he’d have liked to have lots of women stretched out on devices like that bar."
"Most of them are still here you know. They are in a locked room on the end of the cellar. I guess that was the punishment room for this house." If you want to get into the mood of the tale, we can always clean them off." Jeremy gave a little laugh, "I wouldn’t mind having you helpless on that bar."
"And what would you do with me then you naughty man?" Margaret laughed too as she put her hand on the bulge at his crotch.
"Birch you and **** you perhaps."
"I’ve never been birched." Margaret paused for a while staring almost blankly at the screen. "Jeremy? This may sound odd but sometimes I miss not being beaten before sex. I mean, I don’t want an out and out thrashing so I can’t move for days, but a gentle warming now and again would spice things up a bit. I suppose I just got used to it with father."
"Then I’m the one to do it. You’re not the first girl I’ve had that needed a good warming before a fucking. Although you are the first white girl."
"Can I trust you not to go too far?"
"No. You have to take that chance. That adds to the excitement. Once I have you helpless I could thrash you unmercifully. Or I could just give you a nice warming." Jeremy lifted Margaret’s skirt and felt her unclothed cunt. It was wet. "Well this seems to have turned you on too. Bend over that chair." She did and Jeremy gave her arse a dozen smart smacks, enough to put a rosy glow to her bum cheeks before thrusting his cock in and taking her fast and furiously.
Afterwards, as they sat side by side he asked her again about her feelings when she read the account. "When I’m typing, I only see the coded letters but when I read the story I get horny and sad too. I had feelings and sympathy for Victoria but I also became excited sexually by what they did to her. It’s a peculiar dichotomy that I don’t understand."
"I think we should explore it some more Margaret. Tomorrow, we’ll unlock the punishment room and get some lights in there. There’s no electricity in that room even. Then we’ll get it cleaned up a bit and you can see what you might be letting yourself in for."
Chapter 5. Indian experience
"Jeremy?" They lay in bed cuddled in each other’s arms, "This morning you said I wasn’t the only girl you’d had that wanted to feel pain before sex. Was she really like me? Were there others? Would you tell me about her or them please?"
"Of course dear, but it was quite a while ago and she wasn’t a white girl. It was when I was out in India after they had gained independence. A few of us stayed out there as liaison personnel. I had my own house and I had hardly got myself settled when two women came in. One could speak english and spoke for the other woman. "I am Irma. Do you wish to have a servant?" she asked, "This woman has a young daughter that would serve you well and keep the place clean and will take care of your personal needs." I knew from the way she said it, she meant my sexual needs. I knew people in that area followed a form of Buddhism and many were sexually promiscuous from an early age. "She speaks english and will work hard," the woman went on.
"How old is she?" I asked not wanted a half-grown c***d.
"Sixteen, and very nice looking Sir. Only cost you two english pounds a week." From what I had already found out from living in other parts of India, it was always necessary to bargain. Although I could easily afford the two pounds I knew I'd better haggle to reduce the cost. It would help my reputation. I knew that the whole family would live well on two pounds for nearly a month.
"I’ll consider her. Please bring her to me so I can see for myself what she is like." The girl must have been waiting just outside for they brought her in very quickly. Even if they had exaggerated her age, she was small but had breasts that were quite well on the way to being fully developed.
"This is Meena, Sheelan’s daughter."
"Yes, she is very nice looking but is she able to work and cook and clean? She looks a bit too young to have had much experience." I started my bargaining ploy. After further discussion with the english speaking woman, I asked the girl directly if she was willing to work hard. She just nodded but did not answer. "Did you understand what I said?" I asked and she then spoke one word in reply, "Yes." I wondered if it was just shyness in front of her mother and the other woman so I let it go. In the end I got the girl for a pound a week.
However, by the end of the first week, I found the girl to be lazy and she hadn’t responded to any of my overtures so I hadn’t had sex with her. She slept in her own room and got up when she was ready. The meals she cooked were pretty abysmal too. Not wanting to cause any friction between myself as a white man and the natives, I didn’t do what I might have done in other circumstances, namely to give her a good hiding and then have my way with her. I resolved to see the mother and return the girl. As soon as I tried to explain to the mother, she took me away to Irma, the interpreter woman and through her I explained the position. The mother became angry and said I was a fool in not taking her daughter in hand and showing her who was boss. "No men here let their wives lead them around. She just thinks you are a weakling because you tried to be nice to her. I’ll show you what to do." Saying this she went to a drawer, and utterly surprised me by taking out a machete. I was about to protest when she marched into the forest. Moments later she was back with a fresh rattan cane. The three of us walked to my house. Meena was lying on her bed, dressed but dozing. She didn’t doze for long. Sheelan brought the rattan down across her hips and uttered a long string of what seemed to be invective in her own language. Encouraged by another stroke of the cane, Meena undressed then crying and talking in her own tongue, lay face down. Irma held her down by the shoulders and relayed Sheelan’s instructions.
"If you cannot hold her down, tie her to the bed or a solid piece of furniture. Make sure the part you want to hit is bare and you can safely hit hard here and here." The mother indicated the back of the thighs to the base of the spine and the shoulder areas. Irma turned the girl over for the mother to mark off an area from just above the knees to her stomach and then her breasts but I was told it was not good to hit so hard there and again between her thighs. For a youngster she seemed to have a fair amount of pubic hair and I wondered how old she really was. By now, Meena was again face down and Sheelan stood to one side. Without any warning she brought the supple green rattan down hard across her daughter’s arse. She used more force than I would have done. Meena screamed and bucked but Irma held her firm. Five more times she cracked the cane across that young arse. Even on the dark skin the welts showed up fiery and angry. Sheelan handed me the rattan and Irma translated that I was to give the girl the same again. I thought she’d already been punished enough but I had already been called a fool for being weak so I laid on my six, waiting after each one like my instructor had said, until Meena’s writhing had quietened down.
I had expected it to be all over then but no, Sheelan pointed to the bulge in my crotch, made a circle with the fingers of her left hand and poked the index finger of the right in and out. The meaning was clear. "You zig-zig." It was a word I knew. Both older women watched expectantly as I pulled out my cock. They seemed pleased when they saw it and gabbled for a few moments before Irma said, "You must do it to her now. Do it hard and then do it again as soon as you can. Do it often. She will respect you then."
"Please Sir, don’t. I hurt too much now" Tears were streaming down her face as she spoke the first sentence in english I had heard from her. Even if I had some pity for her plight, my cock didn’t. I rammed it in and was surprised to find her hymen intact. It wasn’t for long. I fucked her long and hard all the while watched by Meena’s mother and Irma until I shot my load and withdrew. Sheelan then took hold of my prick and, when Irma sat the girl up, guided it to her daughter’s mouth. There was more jabbering that I didn’t understand but I gathered they were giving instructions on how the girl should be sucking me.
Sheelan left soon after but not before presenting the rattan to Meena with instructions to ask me to use it on her whenever I felt it necessary. Irma remained behind. "Captain Sir," she started, "You have much to learn about the way of life here. We women are brought up to believe that a man does not love us or want us if he is not completely in control of our lives. If he cannot take the time to punish us when we are not doing our best or to warm our bottoms to make us more receptive before entering us, then he does not care for us like he should!
"I’m sorry, Irma. I didn’t realise. I wanted to avoid and international incident that I thought might have flared up if I had hurt Meena. Do you get punished as hard as she was?"
"Meena’s punishment was hard but not unusual. You have to remember that Sheelan would have been in disgrace with her family had you sent Meena back. There was also the money to consider. The wages you pay will keep the family well and Sheelan would not have wanted to lose that through her daughter’s negligence. She had to show you the right way to treat her daughter."
As Irma had been chatting away about personal things, I felt I could ask a personal question. "Does your husband punish you?"
"Of course, but it’s not often I actually get a punishment caning these days, although I did get a caning just the other day."
"Was it as severe as the one we gave Meena?" I asked.
"Perhaps it was as hard but I only took half the amount." Meena started to say something in her language but I told her to shut up and she did. Irma unwrapped her sari and showed me six stripes across her bum. I also noticed many other finer marks across both the back and front of her body, especially on her breasts but before I could ask Irma went on.
"I would have expected a dozen for what I did but my sister took half as she was partly to blame. Fatima and her husband were staying with us for a few days and had been out visiting. They came back just as I was cooking the evening meal. Fatima came bursting into the kitchen and started telling me about what they had done during the day. I was so engrossed with her tale, the meat for the curry started to burn. I tried to hide it with more spices but when it was served up, everyone knew. There was that faint taste of burnt meat. Jamel, my husband, was angry and ordered me to get the cane. I knew which one. A rattan about the same size as the one Sheelan cut for you except this one was well seasoned and oiled. As I returned with the cane I heard my sister speaking with her husband and he spoke with Jamel. They agreed to share the punishment between us two wives and Fatima had owned up to her part in the mishap. As the burnt meat had affected everyone, they were to all witness our disciplining. We removed our saris and I had to bend over the back of a chair and hold the front legs. My bottom was on view to all including my two sons and daughter. But it was not the first time they had seen me in this position. That was the least of my worries. I had to try and keep quiet while Jamel laid the cane across my backside. I just about managed it. Not like this young thing lying here." Irma pointed to Meena. "Then Fatima took my place and I had to watch as she received her six stripes. She has a bigger bottom than me so she may have felt the pain more as each stripe was that much longer. We had to sit and finish our meal with the others even though the woven cane bottom chairs dug painfully into our backsides."
I then got to ask about all the other stripes covering her body.
"Oh they are not punishment stripes, they are for warming me up ready for sex. At the foot of our bed is a small table on which is kept and richly decorated canvas roll containing an assortment of canes and straps. Each night before retiring, and at any other times he feels like it, I have to unroll it so the canes and straps are all laid out neatly, and then stand alongside it without any clothes on. The punishment cane is there too but Jamel never chooses it for foreplay. He selects which instrument he wishes to use, or sometimes he just prefers his hand, and then decides which part of me needs warming. As you can see, my breasts get it most often. He likes the way they move at each strike and he knows only to make the cane sting until they are both very tender. If he feels like taking me in the bottom, he has a little two-pronged strap, which he whips that hole with while I have to hold my bottom cheeks apart so he can hit the target properly. This also means he catches my cunt lips too, which both hurts and makes me, as you say, horny. With your much bigger cock than most men I have seen here, I doubt you will have to stimulate Meena in that way for a while."
"What about pregnancy?"
"No problem there. Our local doctor will give her a drink that induces an abortion within a few days. It is the main form of contraception here. Pump her as full of your sperm as you wish. We women like to feel our inside full of it."
"And there will be no problems if I treat Meena like Jamel does you?" I asked.
"There will be more problems if you don’t. She’s been reading too many english books where women have more rights than they should so you will have to punish all that nonsense out of her. She needs a strong hard man. In the morning, get her to take you to the market place to Mendles where you can buy a roll like I have for yourself. They are available in all sorts of sizes, some ready filled, others you buy what you think you need. Old Mendle will advise you but don’t pay the price he asks." Turning to Meena she added, "You know what a woman is supposed to have in that roll. Make sure he gets it all. I’ll come and check later and if you have tried to get away with anything, I’ll bring your mother over and you can guess what that will mean."
"She did. Meena through lots of tears, started saying she was sorry for her previous behaviour and she would do everything I wanted from now on. I had a feeling there were crocodile tears amongst the genuine ones but let it go. Irma left soon after admonishing me again to make sure I kept in full control of the girl. I fully intended to."
"Do you wish me to be like Irma? To have a roll of punishment canes by my bedside?" Margaret interrupted his tale.
"I still have the ones I bought in India. I’ll show you in the morning. But first let me finish telling you about Meena. You can ask questions at the end." Jeremy paused as though thinking about where he had got too.
"Meena was still on the bed where I had left her to see Irma out. Her sobbing had subsided somewhat and as I looked at her naked body my young cock began to harden again. I turned her over and felt the welts on her arse. They were well raised and she cried out when I pressed them but didn’t make any attempt to stop me. "Undress me," I ordered. Slowly and painfully she got to her feet and helped me take my clothes off. "On your back and spread those legs nice and wide." Again she subserviently did so. She cried out when my weight put pressure on her arse but in my lust I ignored that and pounded her until I came again. After she had sucked me clean I set her to work, doing the cleaning jobs she should have done the previous week. I worked in my office for a while checked on her at intervals. She worked as well as she was able considering her sore muscles. When bedtime came, I spanked the inside and front of her thighs.
Meena took me to the market the next day and I bought the punishment roll and Mendles helped me fill it with what he thought was necessary. Word had already gotten to him about Meena’s behaviour so I think he suggested the best disciplining tools he had. And it wasn’t just because they were more expensive and he knew I could well afford to pay for them. Meena didn’t seem keen on some of the items but that didn’t matter. I got to use them on her anyway and as Irma had said, these warming up canes were certainly very effective in getting the girl horny.
Meena stayed with me for the whole of my f******n months tour of duty there and I was very sorry not to have been able to bring her back home with me but army regulations didn’t allow it. I did get to visit many families in the town and the surrounding country and on occasions witnessed wives and daughters being punished so Irma’s situation was by no means unique."
Margaret could feel Jeremy’s cock was hard again even though it wasn’t but half an hour ago they had fucked. "For an old man, you can get it up pretty well," she remarked, "Perhaps I shall have to get you telling your horny stories more often."
"I get even hornier when I have tenderised some tit flesh first," Jeremy laughed.
"Well I don’t need tenderising at the moment. I just need this inside me." She climbed on top of him, inserted his cock and bounced on it until they both climaxed and lay still.