Tuition Ch. 03

She laughed, nicely though -- she wasn't a bitch -- she was bringing up my longtime love of romance novels and I wasn't going to ruin her imagination by telling her it wasn't the stable lad amongst sweet smelling hay but instead was the Earl himself, releasing himself over my arse and pussy after paddling my bare behind while his relatives watched. Some things were best left unsaid. The twinge of concern I thought I saw in her eyes as she wondered if it was him was too fleeting to hold my attention, but later I would wonder if Sarah actually knew what went on behind Shorncliffe doors.

"Just give me the damn box." I smiled, grabbing the small carrier bag off of her and checking she had brought me enough. Sure enough there was one full strip and an extra week just to be sure. "Thanks."

"So, no details?" Sarah was older than me by approximately nine months and barely more, and where I was -- had been -- rather introvert, quiet and shy, she was loud and outrageous and had lost her virginity the day she turned sixteen and was legally allowed to leave home and throw it at someone. She wasn't a slut by any means; she just didn't limit herself to the shackles of what she deemed 'the prison of a relationship'. I didn't know why I didn't just tell her what was going on, not jealousy that she would thrive in such a situation or anything -- just that, well it was nice to have something to myself. But I think mostly, it was because she thought she knew me so well and if I had told her the truth of the last few days and all that had occurred, she would never believe that it had been something I had wanted. Let alone begged for.

'You beg so prettily...' His remembered words made me squirm in my seat.

"You sure you don't want a coffee?" Sarah asked, motioning to the millions of selections behind her that I would usually have had at least four of by now.

"No, I'm fine thanks." I did not want to have to explain to her four coffees later why I needed to use the bathroom but had to 'just pop back up the road to my work to go'. That was something I could easily list amongst the things I couldn't tell her at the moment. Mary and her key released me for long enough to shower and perform other necessities -- by far the most mortifying ramifications of wearing the girdle -- but all too soon I was secured back into it and she left with another of her smirks as I got ready to come meet Sarah.

'Yeah sis, its technically a demonic chastity belt, except the demonic part is that now I know what I'm missing and I swear the thing has a mind of its own and is making me want to come on purpose...oh and the main housekeeper at work has the key for it.'

It wouldn't go down well.

I groaned mentally as my aroused mind thought of things that would...and then felt amused at my own sense of humor.

"How is she?" I asked, before I could think better of it. Despite the fact she was a vicious hell beast, I did worry for her now I was no longer under the same roof.

"Oh, don't get me started." Sarah groaned and took another sip of her drink. "She left a very long message on my answering machine alternating between praising me and ranting at me. She wants to know where you are, I told her you were keeping yourself busy with work and would be in touch when you had the chance."

I was lost for a moment in my own thoughts and Sarah knew me well enough to change the subject.

"So how long before you have time off for good behavior?" Sarah asked, slipping a mocha flake as I envied her drink with my eyes.

"I actually have tomorrow night off." Hopefully, I amended mentally. I was not sure now whether the Earl being back affected our pre-booked time off. "It might change..."

"...do you fancy the three D's?" She asked with a smile.

"Ah, drinking, dancing and debauchery -- on your part at least -- I don't see why not." I smiled at her mock-wounded look.

"Since you have had your proverbial cherry popped however, I hope I can interest you in a little sport at the club." Sarah snickered. "Its not serious is it?"

"No...it's not serious." And yet it was, but in an entirely different understanding of the word and was not to be confused.

"Good! Let me know once you have it confirmed." Sarah drained her mug and licked her lips to rid herself of that cocoa look that usually came with a mocha flake grande and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I've got to be off, am doing the late shift tonight instead of Cheryl so I can have tomorrow night out with you...so don't disappoint your big sister and make sure you are really persuasive if your boss tries to change your time off."

As I bid her farewell, my own dry sense of humor doubted Sarah's idea of persuasive would be quite the same as his. I had no doubt I was not going out tomorrow night, the Earl's return had no doubt changed it. Glancing at the town clock, I squinted at it in the glare of the sun, I had an hour and a half before I was due to begin, but as I looked up the wooded land towards the big house on the hill, I was struck with a deep sense of foreboding.

Indeed...I sometimes hate it when I'm right.

I used to believe the St Andrew's Cross was merely the flag of my homeland -- Until the Seventh Earl of Shorncliffe strapped me to it.

~~~

"It is entirely out of the question."

To say I felt peeved would be an understatement; various other words crossed my mind before they swiftly turned into mental insults towards Mary and her smug expression even as I remained silent. I was just glad I hadn't gotten my hopes up about going out. I got myself under control swiftly, it did not bear thinking about what He might do if I flattened his housekeeper in a temper tantrum -- but after the night I had experienced, lain in my small bed and being tormented by my own imagination -- I wasn't currently the most rational and calm-headed person in the world and the thought was damn appealing.

"I have not taken any other leave..." And I had it booked...I finished in my head because already she was shaking her head and her face was growing splotchy. A sign I had begun to associate with her anger by now.

"No." Mary growled, picking up the printed pages and frowning. "Mrs. Hiddleton, take Mr. Barton's car and go into town and collect these. These ones are to be chilled, but leave these ones out when you get back so they will be at the right temperature."

I barely heard Mrs. Hiddleton's reply. I knew this was not going to happen. I wasn't sure which was worse...arguing with Mary more about it...or dealing with my sister. Turning, I took new rags and cloths from the cupboard and prepared my tray before I left to go upstairs and let Sarah know.

"Miss Soren," Mary waited for me to turn. "There is to be a function here tonight and these occasions continue on until the guests leave tomorrow afternoon. We cannot spare you; the house will have to be put to rights tomorrow evening. I have already informed Alice and I expect you both to be turned out well and punctual coming to the kitchens." She rummaged through different sections of the kitchen all the while checking things off of her list as she spoke. "I have brought in extra help for the night, and you and Alice are assigned to deal with the buffet."

"Yes Mary." I replied, suddenly worried as to just how many people were coming to dinner. To say our uniforms were revealing was a little like the old saying of the pope being Catholic, but strangely in the last 36 hours I had almost forgotten I was wearing it. The thought of there being strangers in the house, new eyes roaming my flesh was mightily unsettling -- and yet not. My heart didn't know whether to cease beating entirely, or race furiously and was swiftly and almost painfully alternating between the two as I ascended and headed for my room.

"I'm sorry Sarah, no...he has a function...Yes, very last minute I know, but there isn't really anything I can do about it..." I shrugged out of my denim skirt and folded it onto my chair. Getting changed whilst on the phone was not the easiest of things, and I had dropped the phone twice trying to shuck off my shirt, but Sarah's rant was mildly predictable, so I knew I hadn't missed much. "No, don't come round and speak with him, It wouldn't do any good...Yeah, I know, its been a long time since we went out...But look at it this way, I'm finished here in little under a month and we can make up for it then..." Unsnapping my bra, I added it to the little pile of 'normal' before reaching for the black item that had become the daily dress-code since the Earl had arrived home with his cousins the day before yesterday. "Yes I promise...Love you too."

Putting my mobile down on the bed, I bent over to pull on the crotch-less knickers that were too indecent for words -- but that had sent an unmistakably curious shiver through me the first time I had naively tried them on, a feeling that was not diminished even now I was less than virginal -- but remembering I still had on the girdle, I put them back on my work shelf. I had not had an easy time selecting clothing to go visit my sister today, all my jeans showed off the very visible outline of the device and the short denim skirt was all I had that didn't. But my legs were frozen as a result. Leaning over, I tried to rub some life back into my chilly limbs and rid them off goose-bumps. I had reached my knees when I felt hardness pressed against the girdle and my arse a moment before rough and sweaty hands grabbed my breasts roughly. In a panic, I righted myself swiftly and felt the back of my head connect with the now swearing form of Mr. Barton.

His hollers were loud and damn well embarrassing for a grown man, but his growled threats were enough to make me cringe. I had reached for my towel off the radiator and hastily draped it over my front before my door opened further and Mary stood there furious.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

"The little bitch attacked me." Mr. Barton moved his hand and showed the small cut in his nose. I was certain he had pressed harder on it with his hand so he could smear more of his blood and make it look worse. I must have hit him fairly hard though, the back of my head was fairly throbbing.

"I did not!" I started to protest, but already Mary's hand had clamped down hard on my arm and with strength I would never have believed the older woman to possess, she pulled me from my room and began to storm down the corridor. When my shocked brain finally processed the direction, my feet faltered, my heels dug into the ground and I pulled hard against her grip. I looked behind me when I heard a door open softly and saw Alice's shocked face peer out -- I looked at her imploringly and then finally with disbelief as she shook her little head and closed the door once more. What I had expected her to do, I didn't know. As we rounded the corner, Mr. Barton strode past us and knocked hard on the heavy door. I didn't hear anyone bid him enter; my blood was a deafening roar in my ears and was dulling the sounds around me, my tired brain struggling to make sense of what was occurring. Mary pulled me further into the room, her vice-like grip painful as her nails dug into my arm.

She dragged me past the shelves of books I had admired two nights previously, the place where I had pleasured myself to the sight of Alice screaming herself into oblivion whilst skewered by the two brother's cocks. Mary yanked me forward so hard after our descent of the stairs I lost my balance before she finally pushed me to the floor. My knees scraped against the rough old rug, my left hand clutched the red towel to my body as I knelt at the leg of the imposing dark oak desk, my own reflection shown before me in its highly polished sheen.

I vaguely heard conversation and the three different voices surrounding me. One smug. One infuriated, demanding and aggrieved. And finally, one calm -- deep -- dark and steady. And it was that one that broke through the numb shock and left me trembling. I didn't dare speak at that moment, even in defense of myself. Surely Barton could hear the warning undertone in his voice -- and yet still he continued in his accusations. Long moments passed me by, the words not registering, even though the tone and emotion behind each voice did. Mary was happy she could see me on the floor at his feet. Barton was playing up the pain of his injury -- I could hear it with his newly nasal-tinged voice filled with the need for vindication -- I even saw him in the desk's reflection covertly rearrange his crotch.

I became aware he was looking at me a moment before he addressed me.

"Do you have anything to say Miss Soren?"

I did...but I wasn't so sure I wanted to...my voice was shaky when it finally worked. "Mr. Barton startled me, it was an accident."

"An accident?"

"Yes Master." I vaguely heard Mr. Barton start up again behind me, but for that moment while he looked at me there was only me kneeling at his feet, there were only us in the room and everything else melted in with the various other background noises of his home. I could hear my own heartbeat above the cacophony as he looked over my shoulder and I waited to be addressed once more.

"Mr. Barton says you lured him with your provocative clothing and then attacked him."

"That is untrue." I didn't elaborate, just clutched the towel closer. I could feel Barton's gaze at my bare back and it was less than comforting, but then so was that of the Earl at my front. I didn't trust my voice not to crack.

"Look at me." I did. I prayed he would see my sincerity. The smile that curved the left side of his lips did nothing to ease my worries however. "Mary, take her through."

Take me through where? The thought was answered barely a moment later as Mary's rough grip fastened itself about my upper arm and yanked me to my feet. I saw Barton move ahead of her and open the door. I closed my eyes and let her lead me. It gave me a strange thrill to be back in this room -- one I was nowhere near ready to address in deep thought with myself yet -- even as its contents filled me with trepidation, appreciation and a fear of the unknown (and partially known -- I conceded after a swift mental re-run of the first time I had been here). I opened my eyes when she pulled me to a stop; my mouth gaped at the polished black wooden frame that dominated this floor space. From the other side, it could have been mistaken for one of those designer wall partitions from what I could see in the floor length mirror on the wall opposite, but there was no denying what this was from the side I was on. Two larger sections of wood supported it from the ceiling and from the floor and formed the base for the cross. It stood like a proud X in the corner furthest from the door, its many silver hooks glistening in the faint light pouring in from the library.

I saw the Earl in the mirror motion to Mary, and silently she turned from me briefly and returned with thick black cuffs that vaguely resembled padded restraints from the psychiatric ward my sister worked on. She reached to drag my towel from my hands, but by now I had a death grip on the material.

I hadn't done anything wrong! Sure the vile little worm had a cut and a little blood but...

The sting of Mary's palm shocked me enough that I lessened my grip and she yanked the towel completely from me and threw it to Mr. Barton who then lifted it to his nose and savored it as though it held a perfume all of its own. I may have been embarrassed if it had actually been used, but still the thought of his nose anywhere near even something I had used to dry my naked body made bile rise in my throat. I moved to cover myself with my hands, but the action seemed pointless and I let my arms remain where they were and covered myself with a blush instead. Mary took hold of one of my hands, and attached the thick cuff, pulling the strap tight around my wrist to the point of discomfort before she repeated the action on the other side. When she got to knees and instructed me to lift my foot, I shifted my attention back to the cross until she had finished. I felt his eyes on me; it is hard to explain how that made me feel, knowing he was there, seeing my mostly naked body displayed in nothing but the virgin's girdle he had commanded I wear and the cuffs that now adorned me. Did he like what he saw? A thousand and one thoughts raced through my head in those few short minutes and all too quickly Mary had my front pressed against the unreasonably cold wood and was securing my wrists apart above my head. Her hands made swift work of the task, and I complied -- I wanted to comply -- I could feel him watching me, I watched him peruse me in the mirror. It was also then I caught sight of what Mr. Barton was up to. A long black coverlet had graced the small desk behind me close to where the Earl now sat, I had dismissed it in my limited chance to glance about the room, but I could not dismiss it now. Barton had lifted the material off to one side and revealed what it had hidden.

Long thin stretches of black leather, their lashes braded tightly and gleaming in the dim light, black metal handles held knotted cords and split leather straps. A dark bundle of leafless twigs sat off to the side beside what looked like an oak paddle. But it was the heavy length of beige with its glossy black handle that Barton fingered with delight.

My gaze shifted to his as my heart lurched. Barton walked towards me and in the mirror I could see his eyes glaze over, his yellowed tongue wetting his cracked lips. Mary had fastened one leg, and had almost finished the other, I was immobile -- trapped -- and desperately wanted to be free.

"Five strokes Mr. Barton." His voice moved like dark brandy, strong, smooth and sinful as he spoke. Even through my beginnings of panic I mused that no man should have such a voice. It was entirely unfair to the rest of the species. The imminence of my apparent punishment stirred me from my shocked disbelief and I battled against my dry mouth, I managed to form the vague beginnings of words just as the first swipe of the twisted rattan cane met with the flesh along the backs of my spread thighs and my words gave way to a scream. The second and third swipe came hot on the tail of one another and I almost thanked a god I didn't believe in that this might be over quickly. There was no sweet rush of strange pleasure to course through my system, no stinging heat or vicious throb that made me burn and almost ache for the next contact with my flesh and I felt the loss of this acutely.

There was a pause; I could actually feel welts rise one by one on my skin in painful little contractions that made me wince when I thought of the remaining two strokes. Resting my head against my outstretched arm, I was jolted when Mary slipped her hand through the cross from in front of me and ran her fingers over my breasts. It wasn't unpleasant; her cold fingers would have been a welcome relief on the backs of my thighs, though their presence in front of me was confusing. She rolled my nipples, coaxing them out with her chilled digits. I focused on her eyes, I had caught a glimpse of Barton moving closer behind me and was willing even to stare overlong at her natural smirk rather than think upon his next stroke or the fact that his trousers were rapidly tenting away from his body. I heard the dainty rattle of a delicate metal a moment before she engulfed my nipples in a pain so sharp I nearly passed out.

I was in no mental condition to deal with Barton's immediate swipe and swore an itinerary of expletives beneath a fully voiced scream as my body bucked from the blow and then suffered the pain in my nipples for the movement.

"Such language Miss Soren. Two more strokes after this one Barton."

"Aye Sir."

I barely felt the fifth stroke. I was still reeling from the shock of the last. The cool clamps imprisoned my small pink nipples in their tight clutches and forced me to keep my body as close to the cross as possible. When the sixth stroke fell, I felt it lash diagonally across the previous ones and it brought tears to my eyes.