Back in Service Page 8

  ‘Really?’ Hetty smiled, feeling gratified. It was some time since her husband had sported an erection, and forgetting herself, she placed her hand on his knee.

  ‘George, what are you thinking of?!’ Leo exclaimed, leaping to his feet in mock consternation.

  ‘I am sorry, Leo.’ She cast her eyes down demurely. ‘The thought of your arousal must have induced me to take a liberty, but I meant nothing by it, I assure you.’

  ‘I should hope not. At school if a fellow placed his hand on another fellow’s knee it implied only one thing.’

  ‘Really?’ She stared up at him, feigning innocence. ‘And what might that be?’

  ‘That he was a damned sodomite, of course. I should be horrified to think you had such tendencies, George, and even more disgusted to think I had evoked such feelings in you. Swear it is not true.’ He seized the leather-bound volume beside the bed. ‘Upon the Bible, George, place your hand on the cover and swear you have no such filthy designs upon me.’

  Hetty hesitated. ‘What should I swear, Leo?’

  ‘Repeat after me – I do solemnly swear…’

  ‘I do solemnly swear…’

  ‘Upon the Word of God…’

  Hetty repeated everything he said until ‘that I harbour no secret desires to perform any act of an effeminate nature, whether it be by committing impious sodomy or any lesser impropriety upon the person of Leonard Carstairs’, then her voice failed her and she hid her face in her hands.

  ‘What is this?’ came Leo’s harsh reprimand. ‘Do you find it impossible to swear such an oath, George?’

  She nodded mutely.

  ‘I am shocked, George, shocked to the core. Does this mean you do harbour lewd fancies regarding me?’

  ‘I know not, Leo,’ she replied, sounding genuinely confused. ‘I mean, it is nothing specific, nothing I can explain, yet I cannot swear I have never had any improper thoughts regarding you. I could not perjure myself in that respect.’

  ‘You have thought of me in that way?’ he demanded angrily.

  Even though she knew it was all a game, she felt her blood run cold. She had not forgotten that night in Paris when he beat her for attending Milord’s party.

  ‘Tell me, George, along what murky path have your private fantasies run? I must know.’

  There was an imperiousness command in his voice that brooked no hesitation on her part. ‘Well, Leo,’ she began slowly, ‘you know you have been a good friend to me, and I have few male friends. We have been close, intimate you might say, and have shared experiences in this house other men have no inkling of. Your depraved father has put us through many experiences of a dubious nature—’

  ‘Yes, what of it? Get to the point, man.’

  ‘The point is, Leo, that I am very attached to you and sometimes attachment would like to express itself more physically.’

  ‘Physically? How so?’

  ‘I – I am not sure.’ She felt decidedly uncomfortable, as if she really was a man acknowledging unfamiliar feelings towards his own sex. Then she suddenly thought of Jane and realised there was a close parallel in her real life. ‘I know it is wrong, Leo, to feel attracted to one’s own sex, and yet one has to believe the evidence of one’s own body. I confess that, sometimes, when I am in your presence, I have strong feelings of sexual excitement.’

  ‘And you believe I am responsible for these feelings?’ Leo thundered. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing?’

  ‘I am sorry.’ She averted her gaze.

  ‘Do you know what we used to do when we caught a pair of queers at our school, George? We used to make them drop their pants and then tied them up, face-to-face, with their cocks bound together. Then we would take turns beating them on their bare buttocks with whatever implement we chose. I believe some of those depraved buggers actually enjoyed the experience.’

  ‘How terrible,’ she gasped.

  ‘I am of the opinion a good beating is the only way to cure such perverse tendencies. What think you, George?’

  ‘I am sure you are right, Leo.’

  ‘In that case, you will have no objection to receiving such chastisement yourself? After all, you have admitted your shameful secret.’

  He had her cornered; all she could do was nod her assent.

  He made her lower her trousers and kneel by the bed while he opened the wardrobe. ‘You used the same implement on Delia,’ he said. ‘So it seems fitting you should now have a taste of my riding crop. This devil must be beaten out of you, for I know from experience he will not leave of his own accord. Brace yourself, George, and remember this will hurt me as much as it hurts you.’

  She held her breath, anticipating the peculiar combination of burning pain and hot arousal a whipping always evoked in her. The first blow had her writhing against the bed in agony, yet her sex was soon throbbing with lust as the rough material of her trousers, bunched around her thighs, caressed her damp labia.

  Leo panted with exertion as he lambasted her, making her wince as the cruel leather thong bit into her naked flesh. She bit hard into her lower lip to keep from screaming, yet her body felt passionately alive and her soul was exhilarated. She derived a singular thrill from subjecting herself to her husband’s will in this manner, her passionate responses a perverse kind of puzzle she did not fully understand. Once more, she endured the intriguing mixture of painful indignation and gratifying humiliation, partly longing for him to stop while another part of her urged him on with her submission.

  After six stinging strokes, Leo said he would spare her further torment. ‘We have shown the devil what for,’ he declared. ‘If he dares to return, he will know what to expect.’

  ‘Yes, Leo,’ she replied meekly, totally enamoured of him and in need of his comforting touch. ‘May I go and see if Hetty has returned yet?’

  ‘A good idea,’ he agreed with a smile of satisfaction. ‘Tell her to come here after you have seen her, please. I shall be waiting.’

  She hurried into the little dressing room next door, where she carefully took off her masculine garments. Then she put on her own clothes, combed her hair, refreshed herself with eau de cologne and presented herself to her husband once more.

  ‘Ah, Hetty my dear,’ he greeted her warmly. ‘Did you see your brother?’

  ‘Oh yes, George and I had a nice chat.’

  ‘Good. And how are you feeling now?’

  ‘Much better, thank you, although I had a slight accident earlier today.’

  ‘You did? My poor Hetty, tell me about it.’

  ‘I slipped and fell in the garden and landed on my fundament. It is really quite sore.’

  ‘Dear me, let me take a look. Remove your skirt and lie on the bed.’

  As usual, she did as he told her, and heard him grunt in sympathy as he studied the extent of her injuries. Then he opened the drawer of the dressing table where she kept her comfrey cream. Her body ached for his touch and she was gratified to feel his cool fingers smoothing the cream into her smouldering buttocks.

  ‘There, that is much better, is it not?’ he asked gently. ‘You shall soon be able to sit down without discomfort.’ His fingers slipped casually into the deep cleft between her bottom cheeks as he worked the cream into her skin, and for a moment she wondered, despite his earlier ranting against buggery, whether that was his intention. He had never tried to force an entry into her that way, but now, as he titillated the rim of her arse with his slick fingertips, such curiously debilitating sensations awoke in her sex and fundament she almost desired it. Yet even more she longed for him to enter her in the conventional way. Her pussy ached for him and the little bud standing sentinel over her moist passage was growing ever more needy. She pushed her mound hard against the counterpane and wriggled her hips in frustration.

  ‘You crave satisfaction, wife, I can see that,’ he murmured in her ear, still caressing her bottom
with lazy strokes. ‘And I do, too. This afternoon’s work has awakened my appetite and I am raring to go. Spread your thighs and prepare yourself.’

  When he speared into her from behind, she gave a cry of pleasure and soon they were rocking and bucking in rhythmic accord. His hands came round to grasp her breasts and tease her nipples through the thin material of her blouse while she fumbled with the buttons and opened it for him. The tweaking of her naked nipples sent wild flurries of sensation through her, hastening her approach to orgasm. She knew her husband was also close to climaxing from the breathless sounds he made, and the thought of him shooting his hot seed into her excited her even more. She squeezed her inner muscles around his thrusting erection, heightening her own pleasure. In the throes of ecstasy she arched her back, groaning with animal passion, and he joined her with a muffled bellow of relief as his cock spurted and his hands squeezed her breasts. Then, his energy completely spent, he collapsed on top of her.

  The contact was painful since her bottom was still sore from his beating, and sensing her discomfort, he rolled off her so they ended up on their sides in each other’s arms. For a while they remained contentedly silent, then he kissed her and said, ‘I am so glad we did that, Hetty. I was beginning to fear I had lost the power, like my poor father.’

  The remark intrigued her. ‘Are you quite sure he is impotent, Leo?’

  He looked surprised. ‘Well, I have always presumed so. But I suppose the fact that he is in a wheelchair need not necessarily imply failure in that other department.’

  ‘At least he cannot chase after some poor innocent girl now.’

  ‘Like Jane?’

  At the mention of her name, she was aware of a warm flush creeping up into her face and looked away guiltily. ‘I suppose so,’ she mumbled into the pillow.

  ‘You are concerned about her?’ He lay back with his hands beneath his head. ‘She does remind me of you when you first came here. She has that same sweet innocence about her.’

  ‘But I am not so innocent now, am I, dear husband?’ She tried to divert the conversation away from Jane. ‘I know how to satisfy you, and in more ways than one.’

  ‘You certainly do, but enough of this decadent dalliance. I must get up and be about my duties again.’ He rose and dressed himself, but after he left, she still lay musing on the bed. Their talk of Jane roused her curiosity about what might have happened to her that afternoon. While she was sporting and playing with her husband, Jane had been obliged to apply Hungary water to Sir Victor’s immobilised limbs, and perhaps to that other part of a man sometimes referred to as his ‘third limb’. The possibility that the perverse lord of Longton was not impotent after all thoroughly disconcerted her.

  Chapter 7

  It was some time before Jane was seen again, and when Hetty encountered her in the corridor outside Lady Alice’s room later that afternoon, she was alerted by the girl’s cowed expression and dejected posture. Before she could enter her mistress’s chamber, Hetty hurried up to Jane and stayed her hand as she reached for the doorknob. ‘Are you busy?’ she asked gently. ‘What happened? Can we talk?’

  Jane shook her head, her mouth tight and her eyes downcast.

  ‘We shall take tea together in my drawing room later,’ Hetty insisted. ‘Tell Lady Alice… tell her I want to show you how to take care of hairbrushes and combs. That will satisfy her.’

  Jane nodded miserably and Hetty could not help fearing the worst. She spent the next half hour in a state of agitation, and when the tentative knock finally came at her door she rushed to open it. ‘Come in, my dear, I have the kettle on and there are crumpets to toast on the fire.’

  While Jane sat near the blazing coals and pronged a crumpet, Hetty made tea in a kettle set on a little spirit-stove in the corner. She insisted on this small independence from the servants, having been used to making do for herself in Paris. On a chilly day, there was something intensely satisfying about the making of tea and the toasting of crumpets and she wanted it to remain a private pleasure.

  Secure from interruption, the two young women settled comfortably around the small hearth. ‘Now, Jane, you must tell me everything that happened with Sir Victor,’ she began firmly. ‘Do not fear my embarrassment. Remember, I have been in your shoes and know everything about that man’s debauched appetites.’

  ‘Oh Hetty,’ Jane sighed, ‘it was dreadful!’ She burst into tears, burying her face in her hands.

  ‘What did he do, my dear?’ Hetty put a comforting arm around her shoulders, resisting the urge to comfort her with a more intimate embrace. ‘Here, have a sip of tea, it will give you courage.’

  When Jane had calmed down somewhat, she began to tell her story in a quiet, hesitant voice. ‘I went up with Nanny Baines, as you know, taking the Hungary water. He was sitting there in a big leather chair with his feet on a footstool and a plaid shawl covering his limbs. I thought nothing of it at first since he looked every inch the invalid. I even began to feel sorry for him.’

  ‘Your sympathy is wasted on the likes of him,’ Hetty interjected tersely. ‘It is never wise to lower one’s guard with a man like Sir Victor.’

  ‘Then that Baines woman,’ she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, ‘lifted the blanket up to his knees and told me to rub the water into his bare feet and legs. I obeyed, of course, still thinking nothing of it, really. But as I knelt beside him, I could feel him stroking my hair as if I were some little lapdog. I ignored it, but then he started caressing my neck and I began to feel more and more uncomfortable.’

  ‘But you continued massaging his legs?’ Jane nodded, slipped a crumpet off the toasting fork and handed it to Hetty, who smeared it liberally with butter and handed it back. ‘Eat up, Jane dear,’ she urged.

  There was a pause while both of them ate and drank their tea. Hetty noticed Jane’s chin was slick with butter and leaned forward with her napkin to wipe it. The girl smiled at her gratefully, and at once improper feelings rose in her bosom she did her best to suppress, telling herself she must retain the girl’s trust at all costs. ‘Come on then, Jane,’ she said gently. ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Nanny Baines came up to pull the blanket higher over his thighs, right up to his loins, and I saw his… his you know…’

  ‘His phallus, Jane. There is no shame in giving the male organ its rightful name.’

  ‘Yes, his… phallus was completely exposed.’

  ‘What state was it in, Jane?’ she enquired, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

  ‘What do you mean, state?’

  ‘Surely you know a man’s organ may be in one of two states, Jane, small and shrunken when at rest, or large and stiff when prepared for the deed of procreation. So tell me, what condition was Sir Victor’s phallus in?’

  Jane’s eyes filled with tears again, and fearing she had spoken too bluntly, Hetty once more rose to put a comforting arm around the girl’s shoulders. ‘I told you, Jane, there is nothing to be ashamed of. You did no wrong, I am sure of it.’

  ‘I think his organ was not swollen up, not then, at any rate. But Nanny Baines urged me to continue rubbing the lotion into his thighs and the… the thing began to move. I squealed in fright when I saw it twitch like a live thing.’

  Hetty could hardly suppress a smile, but she did her best as she resumed her seat. ‘So you continued to apply the Hungary water?’

  ‘Yes, and Nanny Baines stood over me the whole time. She said I was doing very well, and Sir Victor said he felt thoroughly invigorated. I wanted to be pleased by their praise, but I could not help feeling secretly alarmed at having him exposing himself to me like that.’

  ‘You were right to have doubts, Jane. Nothing that man says should be taken at face value, I know. And it seems he has that dragon as his accomplice now. They make a formidable pair. But pray, continue.’

  ‘I thought I had finished when I reached his loins, but then Nanny Bain
es said I should apply some of the water to Sir Victor’s… phallus.’

  ‘How did she put it? What were her exact words?’

  She frowned, trying to remember. ‘I think she said, “his lordship’s privy parts need attention, too. Make sure you apply the water liberally”. Then Sir Victor added, “it will do me a power of good”, or something to that effect. I was shocked. I could not believe they were expecting me to take such liberties.’

  ‘Did you refuse?’

  ‘At first. I scrambled up and faced Nanny Baines, for I was too confused and upset to speak to Sir Victor directly. I told her I could not possibly perform such an intimate act for his lordship. She drew herself up and stared down at me with those horrid dark eyes of hers boring into me. I thought I would faint I was so frightened.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She accused me of being insubordinate and threatened dire punishment, even dismissal. She said it was my duty to obey her. She said I must do anything she asked without question. She terrified me.’

  Hetty felt anger smouldering in her bosom. She was remembering her own ordeals at the hands of Sir Victor, and how alone and vulnerable she had felt. ‘Did you give in, Jane?’

  She nodded, her expression miserable. ‘It was hard at first touching his… his organ. Worse, too, because I was nearer to him now and his hand was creeping towards my chest. As I rubbed the scented water into his phallus he began caressing my breast, and then he pinched my nipple so hard I could not prevent myself from crying out. I heard Nanny Baines laugh behind me and she said, “you will get a lot worse than that, girl, if you do not behave yourself”. I hated her so much at that moment, and him, too. Oh Hetty, what on earth shall I do? I cannot brook such painful humiliation again.’

  ‘I shall think about what to do later. First I need to know exactly what happened, in every detail. Speak freely, my dear, you have my full understanding and sympathy.’