ran his fingers down her face, the backs of his fingers caressed her skin softly and he peered into Mary’s eyes.
“No you have come to me for absolution, for another purpose. You do not wish to serve and I cannot train you.” The softness returned to his voice and he waited for her to speak.
“Please, I need to be punished. You must punish me,” Mary begged. Gill caught her breath at the words- when she remembered to breathe again she found the girl standing by her side pouring more Champagne.
“What’s happening?” she whispered into the girl’s ear.
“Your friend is a fashion victim, the Master can feel she is no real submissive and has no tolerance for timewasters,” came the soft reply.
“Watch.”
Gill could no longer pull her eyes from the scene unfolding before her.
“Very well, you will be punished,” he walked to the chair and rested his hands on the back, Gill was sure she caught a flash of pain in his eyes for a second but then it was gone. She watched as he took a paddle in his hands and ran his palm over it.
“Crawl to me. When you reach me stand up and turn around, place your hands on the back of the seat. Keep your legs straight, knees 12inches apart and back straight.”
In horror Gill watched her friend crawl on hands and knees to J’s feet, her face inches from his shoes; she stood slowly and bent as instructed. Mary’s cheeks were round and pink, her curves highlighted by the thong that separated them.
“The bar.” He said simply. The other girl walked to the table and lifted a spreader bar, placing it between Mary’s legs and opening the recipients’ legs a little wider so it fitted.
“That was a twelve inch bar. You did not do as you were told, another three strokes,” the tip of the crop tapped a ball-gag on the table and Gill sat fascinated as it was placed in Mary’s mouth and fastened at the back. Desire flowed through Gill’s body, desire for the care and attention J paid to Mary, desire to serve in the same way the girl did.
“Mary has not told me what she requires punishment for, but she will take nine strokes of the crop for it, and another three for not doing as she has been told,” he explained to Gill, bending the crop aggressively, swishing it through the air to test it.
Gill sat in the room and tried to believe what she had seen. She shook and was sure she was as white as a sheet – to her horror she had witnessed the chastisement of her friend with a crop designed for an animal, the red welts marked the tender flesh in a burning ladder. She heard the cries of pain and had seen Mary jerk with every lash. When it was over she watched as the mask was removed, tears ran in streams down her puffed face, but almost unbelievably she heard Mary whisper, “Thank-you, Sir,” as the gag was removed from her mouth.
J walked uncertainly towards the bedroom and allowed the girl to remove the bar without him. Mary remained in the same position, waiting to be allowed to move. For several minutes only the girl moved until eventually J returned. He had removed his jacket and when he smiled at Gill she melted in his eyes.
“When did you sleep with Gill’s husband, Mary?”
The words were like a gunshot ringing around the room.
“What?” Gill stammered, unsure of what she had heard.
Mary burst into tears, and seemed more pitiful than when she was taking her punishment, “How did you know… please don’t.”
The words seemed hollow, they numbed Gill to the bone and she couldn’t move, struck down by their meaning.
“You wished for punishment, I am giving it to you,” J stated, he nodded at the girl and she guided Mary down onto her knees again, her sobbing filled the room.
“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean it to happen. Forgive me.” She turned her head so she could see Gill, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.
Slowly Gill stood and walked from the room, she didn’t shake any more, she simply felt sick and needed fresh air.
FOUR
The Somerset countryside was fresh and pleasing, the new house was everything Gill had wanted as a girl and worked hard for. She was sweeping her old life away and starting afresh even if she was not sure it was what she wanted. The infidelity of her ex-husband and friend although not forgotten was no longer a painful memory. Hate had turned to annoyance but nothing else. More prominent was the memory of seeing Mary punished in such a demeaning manner – she was still not sure how J had known about the affair but she felt that he had the ability to look inside the soul. The memory of him made goose bumps rise on her skin again.
That night as she sorted through her diary his card fell onto the kitchen table; slowly she picked it up and found herself turning it over in her hands. Once again she found herself nervously holding the phone but this time it was the number on the card she dialled; the phone rang for a short time and then a message let her know it had been discontinued. She felt silly, it had been six months so he was sure to have moved on, but as she sat at her computer the wording on the card haunted her and she wrote a simple e-mail which read:
“You gave me the truth, I need to be punished in order to lay the past to rest and to move on. Are you available?”
For a couple of minutes she fought the urge to delete it, eventually she poured a large drink and pressed send. An hour later she checked her mail, found nothing and went to bed sure he was gone.
China sank into the bed and pulled the duvet up around her face, it was comfortable and warm but it was not the place for her. She turned onto her side and looked around the furniture, most of which she judged to be antique, others very clever reproductions. In the distance she could hear the ticking of a clock and then the chimes – she tried to count them but she was too tired. Her eyes closed and exhaustion filled her veins, she felt like she was betraying Master by falling asleep but there was nothing she could do, her spirit was willing but the body was drained.
Once or twice she would wake sure somebody was in the room with her, she felt her face brushed by a familiar warmth, hair stroked from her eyes. She stretched out and her hands touched the headboard, legs already open twelve inches, it was instinctive now even in her sleep.
She felt his warm breath on her breasts, the familiar flicking of his tongue as he worked slowly and methodically down her soft body, kissing and biting her skin, she felt loved and wanted, needed. Gradually her mind became a haze between reality and fantasy – she felt her labia puff at his touch, her clitoris exposed as his lips closed around it and he sucked. Unable to move her arms she could only give in to his control – she still pulled at the restraints but they didn’t give way, she was locked down, almost panicking as he did what he wished to her.
She tried to breathe but the bed seemed to suck it from her body – her eyes snapped open and she was sure he was between her legs; she tried to speak, to call out to him but all she could do was raise her pelvis as the climax hit her hard, exploding from the epicentre of her body and draining every ounce of energy from her. It seemed to last forever until eventually she fell back into a laboured asleep again.
The e-mail waited for her when she logged on – her heart felt as though it was in her mouth as she read it over and over. He was in York, only four hours away in the car. It seemed unobtainable and she mulled over how she could do it. Eventually
