Their Master's Pleasure (8 page)

She jumped as though she'd been jabbed with a pin and it was a good few seconds before she found her voice. ‘That wasn't... you never said anything about that before.'

‘Perhaps not, but I'm saying it now; and I won't be swayed on this. Take it or leave it, Elizabeth.'

She shook her head, but I knew it was in resignation rather than outright refusal. For Cathy's sake she would endure even this. ‘I'll take it,' she said, ‘with one proviso - Frederick isn't to touch me. Whether it's fitting me with the chafer, or the two phalluses, or anything else for that matter, I want you to do it.'

‘Agreed.'

‘I haven't finished. You must make him promise not to touch me sexually, either.'

Though she appeared calm enough I sensed inner turmoil over this latest development, and the urge to tease her proved irresistible. ‘Well, maybe just a tickle...'

‘I mean it, uncle! He is not to touch me!' The mask slipped momentarily and I saw something approaching anguish in her eyes. It seemed the question of whether she liked or loathed my godson had been answered, for loathing would surely provoke cold fury, not this heated passion.

‘As you wish,' I said. ‘I'll get his word on it, never fear. And not wanting to keep you in suspense a moment longer, I can tell you we'll be playing Ride-a-Cock-Horse. Have you planned what you'll be wearing for this canter of yours, my dear?'

‘Just hard hat, riding jacket and boots, I thought.'

‘Hmmm. I think we can dispense with the jacket, in fact. I'm sure Freddie will want to watch those lovely titties of yours bounce as Dobbin gets into his stride.'

 

 

 

The game having been chosen, I visited the nursery with Elizabeth to inspect of the all-important rocking horse. As she deduced, Dobbin would need raising up to accommodate adult legs. I doubted we would need to seek out a carpenter, however, since a couple of wooden boxes or crates should do the trick admirably. I determined to speak with Phillips, the gardener, to see if he had anything suitable to hand.

Elizabeth showed me the stirrup leathers and again declared them too short. I wasn't so sure, for Elizabeth's comfort wasn't a requirement. The whole idea was that she should be
un
comfortable in the extreme and the position of her legs would undoubtedly be an important factor.

‘I need you to sit on Dobbin for a moment,' I said. ‘I want to see what it looks like.'

She hiked up her skirts and threw a leg over the wooden mount. It immediately became apparent that I wasn't about to see a thing on account of my ward's voluminous clothing.

‘It's no good,' I said, ‘you'll have to take your dress off. Take everything off, in fact.'

She afforded me a suspicious look, but began peeling off the various layers till she was down to vest and bloomers alone. Though she showed little enthusiasm for going further, I insisted she divest herself of her drawers also. ‘Purely in the interests of research, you understand,' I assured her.

With that garment duly discarded I had her sit upon Dobbin once more and put her feet in the stirrups. She was quite right - the stirrup leathers needed lengthening: right now she looked rather like a jockey waiting for the off.

‘It might help if you rocked him,' I said.

I walked around her as she did so, pausing at various points to study her motion and trying to imagine what the effect of the phalluses would be. Straight away I could see a problem: if she stood up in the stirrups the weight would be taken off her crotch and the phalluses would cease to move inside her. In fact, that would be true even if the stirrup leathers were longer. The solution was relatively straightforward, fortunately, and I searched around for a stick of chalk, no nursery being without such an item. Having located one, I returned to Elizabeth and slid my hand down under her groin, at which she jerked back with an affronted gasp, glaring at me.

‘Keep still,' I said. ‘I'm just marking the saddle for the rings.'

‘What rings?'

‘You'll see soon enough.'

I positioned the chalk close to her vagina and marked the saddle, then went around the back and made a second mark close to her anus. Satisfied, I told Elizabeth she could dismount and get dressed.

Alone in my study once more I gave thought to the matter of the two phalluses. Their manufacture I decided to entrust to a craftsman in Canterbury I had known for years, a man whose workmanship and discretion I was confident I could rely upon. I wrote to him on the matter, enclosing a sketch and written specification, and he replied by return of post that the articles would be ready in a week.

‘The phalluses are on order,' I said to Elizabeth when next I saw her, ‘so that just leaves the die. I'll send off for one right away.'

‘No need, uncle, we can use this. It's out of the games box.' She took a chipped and badly worn die from her pocket.

‘That old thing?' I said. ‘Wouldn't you prefer a nice new one?'

‘It may be old,' she said, ‘but at least I know it isn't loaded.'

‘
Loaded
? And just how, pray, would you know about loaded dice?'

‘It was in
The Diary of a Slave - Ursula's Story
. That's how wicked Sir Reginald won her from Squire Trelawny in the first place, remember?'

I sighed. ‘I'm beginning to wish I'd never lent you that damn book. You know far too much for someone your age.'

‘You're right,' she said wistfully, ‘I
do
know too much; indeed, I wish I didn't. Sometimes I wish I was ten again and it was just me and Dobbin galloping off across imaginary fields without a care in the world.'

‘Lost innocence,' I said. ‘So terribly poignant, don't you think?'

‘I didn't lose it,' she said, ‘it was stolen, as you well know. You're the one who stole it.'

 

A week later a parcel arrived. Upon opening it I saw that my Canterbury craftsman had excelled himself, for the phalluses were beautiful - true works of art. They were carved from exotic hardwood and polished to a glassy sheen, one ebony-black and the other a most attractively striped brown. Both were six inches long and cylindrical in form, with an egg-shaped bulge at one end. The other end was flat and at the centre was attached a small brass ring.

Colour aside, the only visible difference lay in their diameters. The smaller of the two - the brown phallus - was an inch and a quarter thick for most of its length and an inch and a half at the bulge. The ebony phallus was an inch and three quarters and two inches respectively. I was delighted with them and lost no time in sending for Elizabeth to show her our new acquisitions. Her reaction was not at all what I'd expected.

‘You told me I could trust you, Uncle James,' she said reproachfully. ‘I should have known better, shouldn't I?'

‘You don't think they're suitable?' I said, genuinely surprised.

‘Of course they're not suitable. They're
far
too big.'

‘Poppycock! They're perfect.'

All the preparations having been made, it only remained to set a date for Ride-a-Cock-Horse and to apprise my godson of the impending entertainment. I was keen for him to attend as I thought it would be good experience and would broaden his horizons. Though remarkably well-versed in spanking, I suspected he knew little or nothing of the allied sport of degradation.

I had deliberately kept Freddie in the dark up to this point as I wanted it to be a surprise. He looked startled - shocked, even - when I took him aside and explained the situation, and I had to remind myself he was still a youngster and nowhere near as wickedly corrupt as his godfather.

‘
Elizabeth
thought all this up, uncle?' he asked, once he had recovered his composure.

‘She did. A remarkable young woman, don't you agree?'

‘Indeed,' he said faintly. ‘I never imagined... that is, she seems so...'

‘Innocent?' I suggested. ‘Ladylike?'

‘I was going to say “virtuous”, but both of those, certainly.'

‘She's all of those things,' I said. ‘She's a truly good person.'

He said nothing, but his expression remained doubtful.

‘Don't get the wrong idea about this, Freddie,' I said. ‘Elizabeth doesn't invent these games because she enjoys them; rather she wishes to be in control of her own destiny. If it were
my
game we were playing she would be no more than a helpless victim - and she's far too proud to let that happen. This way I'm not the one doing painful and degrading things to her, she's doing them to herself. You see what I'm saying?'

‘Yes, I think I can understand that,' he said, nodding slowly. ‘But why on earth would she consent to such a thing in the first place, unless... do you compel her, sir?'

‘Not at all - not the way you mean, anyway. Elizabeth is a truly good person, as I said, who loves her sisters so dearly she's prepared to sacrifice her body and dignity to protect them.'

I went on to explain the situation with regard to Cathy and how I turned Elizabeth's concern for her sister to my own advantage. I'd thought my godson would be impressed by the artfulness of my plan, but it was puzzlement I saw in his face rather than admiration.

‘I see,' he said finally. ‘But still... I'd rather not attend, sir, with respect.'

‘Not attend?' I exclaimed. ‘What, and miss the show of a lifetime? Freddie, you amaze me; I thought you'd be thrilled at the prospect.'

‘I'm sorry, sir,' he said quietly, not meeting my eyes. ‘It's just that I like Elizabeth, and it doesn't seem right, somehow.'

‘But I like her too. I'm very fond of her, actually, but that doesn't stop me playing painful games with her or spanking her - just the opposite, in fact. I was fond of Polly, yet you saw how I treated her. I have great affection for Mrs Hammond, but she too has to bare her buttocks from time to time. Surely you must have wished to put Elizabeth across your knee and give her a sound spanking, at least?'

‘Well... yes,' he said.

‘There you are, then,' I said. ‘How is this so very different from a bare-bottom spanking, except by degree? Subjecting them to a little pain and humiliation doesn't mean we think any the less of these delightful creatures: indeed, we love them all the more for submitting to it.'

He had no answer and after further cajoling finally agreed to join me at Ride-a-Cock-Horse. Though it was clear he still harboured doubts, I felt sure he would get into the swing of things once the entertainment started. Freddie was just like me - and I for one couldn't wait to put the lovely Elizabeth through her paces!

 

 

 

Elizabeth undressed slowly. It was not that she wished to tease us; rather that she was excruciatingly embarrassed. Everything about her look and demeanour confirmed it: her neck and face were scarlet, her hands were shaking and she kept her eyes firmly glued to the floor. I glanced over at Freddie, thinking to share a conspiratorial wink, but he looked almost as disconcerted as my ward.

The three of us were in the nursery, where Dobbin waited patiently, perched atop a pair of stout wooden boxes. The stirrup leathers had been extended as agreed and two shiny brass rings gleamed on his saddle, sewn in place by Elizabeth. Her riding crop lay on the table, but I made no move to retrieve it, having decided to deliver the two dozen at the very end of her ride.

I was obliged to help my ward with her stays - she was trembling so badly she couldn't manage them unaided - and when she was naked I decided to have a little sport with her. In accordance with her wishes I had extracted Freddie's promise that he wouldn't touch her in any way, but that didn't preclude him from ogling her or making comments.

‘So, Freddie,' I said, turning to my godson with a grin, ‘what do you think of my eldest ward? She's beautiful, is she not?'

‘Indeed she is, sir,' he said. ‘Very beautiful indeed.'

Though he glanced at her it could hardly be called ogling, and having spoken up he immediately dropped his gaze. At his age I would have been positively drooling at such a sight, but perhaps the lad just needed a little encouragement.

‘Look at those tits, Freddie,' I said. ‘Did you ever see a firmer, prouder pair? And as for that wonderful bum, don't you wish you could lay a few stripes across it to hear her squeal?'

‘Yes, sir,' he said respectfully.

It wasn't the reaction I'd hoped for, I have to say. I'd thought we would have fun at her expense, discussing her most intimate parts in lascivious detail, peeling away her dignity as she had peeled off her garments just moments before. The lad seemed positively solemn, however, and there was little I could do but press on and hope he would feel easier in his mind as the session progressed.

‘Very well, Elizabeth,' I said. ‘It's time to find out who was right about the wooden cocks. Will our heroine be able to take them, or won't she? Myself, I'm all agog with anticipation. Come, my dear - open wide.'

I held up the brown phallus, the one intended for her rectum. From the look on her face it might have been some loathsome, odious reptile. ‘Uncle...' That one word seemed to use up what little energy she possessed, for though I waited there was nothing more to come.

‘I know,' I said, ‘it's an awful thing to have to do, especially in front of Freddie who always speaks so highly of you, but do it you must - you know that, don't you?'

Though she seemed close to tears, she nodded and lifted her chin resolutely.

‘Good,' I said. ‘So be a brave girl and bend over.'

She glanced at Freddie in an agony of shame and leaned forward. I touched the tip of the phallus to her anus and pushed. Her sphincter resisted, but the wooden cock had been well greased with lard and the tip was nicely tapered and smooth as glass. I shoved hard - and as the thing slid inside her, Elizabeth cried out and almost fell forward. I grabbed at her but Freddie was quicker, catching hold of her shoulders as she stumbled. He helped her to stand up straight, concern written all over his face, while I eased the phallus deep inside her.

‘There now,' I said brightly, once it was done. ‘That wasn't so bad, was it?'

The ebony phallus, though larger, was a little easier. Elizabeth was no virgin (though neither was she a wanton trollop like Victoria) and once again brute force and a liberal coating of lard did the trick. Elizabeth stood there with both orifices filled, unhappier than I had ever seen her and plainly in considerable discomfort. She proceeded to don hat and riding boots - the latter requiring her to bend over, much to her distress and my amusement - and turned to face Dobbin.

‘You're forgetting something,' I said, holding out my hand to show the worn die she had insisted on using rather than risk anything of mine. ‘Squatting down to roll won't be easy in your present state, so I suggest you just let it fall. I'm sure Freddy will be happy to read off the number.'

I passed the die rapidly from right hand to left with a magician's flourish, then offered it to her. As a boy I had been fascinated by the conjurer's art and practiced for hour upon hour, till I became competent enough to amaze and delight young Jessie the scullery maid with my tricks. My sleight-of-hand with the die was merely a charade, however, to tease Elizabeth and make her wonder. She looked at me with intense suspicion, then at the die, and finally at Freddie. His sincere expression must have reassured her, for she tossed it on the floor at his feet.

My godson picked it up carefully and held it out for us to see. ‘Three,' he said.

I was a little disappointed, I have to admit; a five or a six was what I'd been hoping for. Still, I suppose one shouldn't be greedy. Fate had decreed it would be three hours, so I would just have to make the best of it. Elizabeth didn't appear exactly overjoyed either, for three hours is a long time when one is in pain, and the phalluses had felt
very
tight when I put them in.

With no more reason to delay my ward walked stiffly to Dobbin. She swung her leg carefully over his back and settled herself gingerly into the saddle. I lifted her feet into the stirrups, drawing a soft groan from her lips. Next I took the two pieces of fine silk cord from my pocket and proceeded to tie the ring at the base of each phallus to the matching item on the saddle. And now, finally, we could make a start. I looked at my watch and nodded to Elizabeth, who slowly and with little apparent enthusiasm began to rock.

I greatly enjoy riding. Outside of sex and thrashing a nicely rounded bottom, few experiences can compare with it; certainly I wouldn't wish to be without Whiplash, my spirited black stallion. Riding may be wonderful indeed, but I never knew till that day in the nursery that watching someone else ride can be equally stimulating.

Elizabeth took things easy at first, clearly attempting to pace herself. I made no objection, for she had many miles still to go and the way ahead was uncertain. Though she didn't hurry it was plain to see she was suffering right from the start. Her face was strained and the blush that had lasted all through the preparations was quite gone: indeed, she looked decidedly pale. The reason wasn't hard to deduce, of course - her orifices were being stretched and the pain simply wouldn't go away. She could bear it now, perhaps, but pain is insidious, eating away at the will and eroding our ability to resist. An hour from now - two hours - things would seem very different indeed to poor Elizabeth.

As if that wasn't enough, she had a further problem. Dobbin's motion resulted in some slight movement between my ward's hips and the saddle, and since the phalluses were held down, they slid in and out of her body constantly. It was no great amount, perhaps an inch at most, yet it was significant. She was being constantly galled by this incessant movement and I knew it was only a matter of time till she grew sore.

Freddie, I have to say, was looking no happier than before, and I began to wonder about him. Many spankers of my acquaintance take great delight in degrading their victim, revelling in the sight of cheeks aflame with embarrassment and the humiliation in her eyes. Others have little interest in such amusements, however. For them cane, strap and paddle rule - everything else is simply a waste of a good slave. Perhaps Freddie was one of this latter type; a flogger, pure and simple. There could be no doubt he enjoyed handing out a good thrashing, as his treatment of Irene Hammond proved, but watching him now it was equally clear that a performance such as this held little interest for him. Disappointing, but there it was.

With every minute that passed Elizabeth's difficulties increased, and with one hour gone she was shifting constantly in the saddle. She tried rising in the stirrups, then sitting down, leaning forward and back, but no matter how much she changed position the relief she sought clearly eluded her. Inevitably the rocking slowed. She had done well to drive herself so far, but now she needed my help. I took hold of the horse's head and began to increase the swing, causing Elizabeth to let out a despairing groan. ‘Uncle, please! I can't bear it.'

‘You must, my dear,' I said simply.

From time to time I took out my watch and glanced at it, and whenever I did I saw Elizabeth watching me, desperate to know how much time remained. On the third occasion I shook my head as I returned the watch to my pocket.

‘You must forget about time,' I said. ‘Take each moment as it comes. For any sufferer watching the slow crawl of hands around a clock face is a sure road to madness.'

Ten more minutes passed, then ten more, with the only sounds in the room my ward's laboured breathing and the creak of her wooden steed. Shortly after the two hour mark, with Elizabeth clearly in great distress, Freddie stepped forward.

‘Sir,' he said, ‘surely she has suffered enough? Can we not release her from this torment?'

‘No, Freddie, we cannot. The game is of Elizabeth's devising and she plays it now of her own free will. It would be most unfair not to let her see it through.'

‘But she couldn't have known she would suffer like this, could she? No one could, who hadn't experienced it. Ask her, I beg - you'll see she wants to stop.'

‘Of course she does,' I said. ‘She longs for it more than anything in the world, which is why she needs our help. If we allow her to stop now she will feel vastly relieved, and would perhaps remain so for the rest of the day; but tomorrow Elizabeth would be ashamed of her weakness - and that shame would never go away. The memory of her failure would haunt her the rest of her life.'

‘We could
command
her to stop, sir,' he said, his voice rising in agitation. ‘I could lift her off, by force if necessary, then the weakness would be mine and not Elizabeth's. She would have nothing to be ashamed of then, would she... not if I
made
her do it?'

He spoke with such fervour that the truth finally dawned on me. He'd said he liked her, but it was more than that. It was too soon to speak of love, perhaps, for they'd known each other a few weeks only, but already Freddie was looking on Elizabeth as more than just a friend.

‘You think my ward so shallow she would believe that?' I asked. ‘Shame on you, Freddie, for demeaning a young woman you said you liked. Or perhaps I misheard, and you said no such thing?'

‘I
do
like her... I like her
greatly
...'

He couldn't go on - I imagined he was struggling to get his thoughts and feelings straight in a taxing and thoroughly bizarre situation. Now that I understood things a little better I was sorry I'd bullied him into coming along, for the experience was testing him to the limit. I did think briefly of telling him to go, but that would be as bad as allowing Elizabeth to stop. Young people need to learn that tasks we set ourselves must be completed if we are to have any self respect.

During my exchange with Freddie I had continued dragging at the horse's head to maintain the swing, and after a time I heard Elizabeth begin to moan. At first it was no more than a murmur in her throat, faint and intermittent, but as the minutes passed it grew steadily louder and more persistent till it became an unending song that told of her misery and pain. Yet she did not speak to me or look at me again. Her eyes were glazed and distant, staring off into nothing, and her mouth hung open, pink tongue quivering. Her body shone with perspiration and tiny rivulets ran down from her throat, coursing over her breasts and ribs. And still I drove her on.

I glanced at my watch and saw there were just ten minutes to go.

‘Freddie,' I said, ‘take the horses head and maintain the swing.'

‘Yes, sir,' he said. There had been a slight hesitation in his reply, and there was another before he did as I commanded. As he took over I saw the movement slacken considerably, but made no comment.

‘Elizabeth?' I said. ‘Niece?'

She was almost beyond hearing. Pain had driven her into a private place and I had to call to her again. ‘Uncle?' she murmured. ‘What... is it over?'

‘Almost,' I said. ‘The last few furlongs, at least. Can you pick up the pace, Elizabeth? Can you gallop him?'

‘I'll... I'll try.'

Freddie shook his head. ‘Sir...'

‘No, my boy. Let her play out the hand as best she can.'

He seemed inclined to argue the point, but I looked at him and he clamped his jaw. I went to the table and retrieved the riding crop Elizabeth had brought along. Thus armed, I stood behind the horse and readied myself. ‘Faster now,' I said. ‘Work him faster, Freddie.'

My godson was clearly reluctant and I feared outright rebellion. Then Elizabeth herself took charge, pushing with her hips, though what that effort cost her and from where she found the strength, I could not imagine. The rocking horse dipped violently forward and back and Elizabeth began to wail pitifully, but neither her efforts nor the wooden creature's wild motion slackened. Though I couldn't see her face it must surely be twisted in agony, for Freddie's own expression reflected her torment.