Lady Georgina Hetherington looked around the table and smiled to herself. Fine food, fine wine, fine company and fine conversation—the key ingredients for a successful dinner party. She was surrounded by her closest friends and, for the first time in a long time, she felt contented.

To her left, Lord Martlesham was entertaining the guests with highly amusing tales from his time as Equerry to the Royal household, with frequent interruptions from his wife Marjorie to good-naturedly steer him away from revealing state secrets or, more importantly, the peccadilloes of members of the royal family. Georgina had known the Martleshams since she was a child and loved them dearly. It was always so good to catch up with them after one of their sojourns to some far-flung part of the Empire.

On her right was her closest friend, Emily, and her husband, Mr Anthony Squires MP. They had married just a couple of years previously and, while he seemed somewhat priggish and formal at first meeting, Georgina had immediately accepted him as Emily’s choice. As she came to know him, she understood what her friend had seen in him and grew to like him immensely.

Facing her sat Sir John Reynolds, an eminent physician, someone she had known originally as the best friend of her husband, Robert—indeed, he had been best man at their wedding nearly twenty years previously.

Thinking of Robert brought a stab of pain to her heart as her mind instantly went back to that moment, five years before, when she had heard that he had been killed while on expedition to the Dark Continent. It had been John who had delivered the terrible news, and he had been a source of great comfort to her during that awful period. They had become very close as he had helped her come to terms with her loss and grief. She now regarded him as her rock, someone she could always turn to for advice or help.

She had also started to look on him as possibly something more than just a stalwart friend. She was still, at the age of forty-six, a strikingly attractive woman and, though it might shock her friends, still felt certain desires that couldn’t be entirely suppressed by sheer willpower and a healthy, outdoor life. As she looked down the table, she saw in him a ruggedly attractive man in his late forties, and a very eligible bachelor. In her mind’s eye, she saw him embracing her tightly, leaning down to plant his lips firmly against hers….

She shook her head to clear the vision from her mind. A silly fantasy, she thought dismissively; nothing could ever happen between them, not with memories of Robert forever clouding their relationship. She turned her focus back to the conversation continuing around her, seeking to pick up its thread. Her guests were exchanging stories of amusing or exciting experiences, tall tales they had heard on their travels, even ghost stories, some well-known and others unheard before, at least by her. On the spur of the moment, she decided to join in.

“I have a story that will trump you all,” she smiled, “and, despite its seemingly unbelievable content, I can vouch for its truth, as it is one in which I am the central character!”

“Oh, Georgina, do tell!” Emily squealed in excitement, but Georgina suddenly had second thoughts about the whole enterprise.

“I-I fear I may have spoken too soon,” she said hesitantly. “It is a rather…graphic tale…one that you may find offensive….”

“You can’t back out now!” Emily retorted. “You have us on tenterhooks!”

“Now, now, my dear,” Lady Martlesham said soothingly to Emily, “don’t badger her. You will tell us in your own time, won’t you, Georgina? I sense that it is something of which you wish to unburden yourself, am I right?”

The attractive hostess looked between them uncertainly, unsure of herself, but then seemed to gather her resolve. “You are right, Lady Martlesham, thank you,” she responded, her voice gradually gaining confidence. “I am going to tell you a secret that I have carried for many years and, despite how it may change your perception of me, I cannot keep it to myself any longer. I beg you not to judge me too harshly until you have heard all the details.” They were all now completely focused on her, sitting in rapt silence. “The events I am about to recount occurred just a year after Robert and I were married so, at that time, I was still in the full flush of youth and, though I say it myself, was considered quite comely.”

“Nonsense, my girl,” Lord Martlesham burst out, “you were an absolutely ravishing beauty, and still are!” There was a general nodding of heads around the table.

“You are too kind, Sir,” Georgina blushed. “To resume, we were living in Italy at the time, a house in Rome, so that Robert could manage the assets he held there, mainly in the olive oil trade. This involved him being absent during much of the working week, as he travelled to plantations and bottling plants up and down the country. As a relatively new bride, I missed him terribly, of course, but I understood the need for the separation and was able to cope quite well. That is, until one fateful night.

“I was woken by a loud noise outside my window—I always slept with the windows open on those hot summer nights. As I sat up in bed wondering what had occurred, I heard the chiming of a bell, thirteen times, followed by the hoot of an owl. I remember nothing after that. I must have fallen back asleep.

“When I awoke a second time, I could immediately tell that my situation had changed. I could feel the warm night breeze against my body and I surmised from this that, not only had the bed sheets been pulled away, but my nightdress had been removed. I was now lying in the bed, naked!” This was greeted by gasps, sharp intakes of breath, and looks of shock around the group. Georgina pressed on, not daring to look at them as she spoke.

“I, of course, tried to cover myself, but try as I might I could not bring my arms to my body. I found my legs were also pulled and held wide apart and, from the restriction I felt around my wrists and ankles, realised that I was tied to the bed, completely exposed! I screamed and cried out for help, but the only sounds that I could make were severely muffled because I had been gagged. When I tried to look around to see who had done this to me, I found my eyes covered by a cloth tied around my head. So now you see the predicament in which I found myself: bound, gagged, blindfolded, and naked!”

“Oh my god!” Anthony breathed, “you were being assaulted! They must have gained entry through the window!”

“No, Sir, that was not possible,” Georgina replied, shaking her head. “The windows could not open wide enough to allow anyone to clamber through, not even a child or dwarf. And it was always a firm order to the servants that they must lock every door to the house before retiring. There was no point of entry.”

“What are you saying, then?” Lady Martlesham asked, “that this was the work of supernatural forces?”

“At that time,” Georgina continued, “I knew no more than I have so far told you. Please let me continue and I will explain the full horror of my situation, and my complete perplexity at it. After several minutes of trying to free myself and screaming into the gag, all to no avail, I stopped to listen for sounds of my attacker, but heard nothing, not a sound. Suddenly, I felt the touch of a hand on my face, straightening my hair and stroking my cheek. This set me to blind panic once again, struggling and shouting for help. But there was nothing I could do as the hand moved from my cheek to my neck, and from there….” She broke off with a quiet sob momentarily unable to continue.

“Oh, you poor thing!” Emily exclaimed sympathetically. “Please don’t continue if it is too upsetting!” She reached over and placed her hand on her friend’s arm to comfort her.

“No,” Georgina said firmly, raising her head and looking at them each, almost defiantly, “having started, I must go on if I am to exorcise myself of this terrible memory. As I was saying, I felt fingers trailing down onto…my breasts, hands groping me lewdly whilst I struggled in vain to free myself. From there, the unwelcome touch moved across my stomach and, to my horror and alarm, gripped me between my thighs.” Suddenly, everyone was speaking at once, expressing their outrage at this violation, and sympathy for Georgina for having endured it. Everyone, that is, except Sir John, who was gazing at her thoughtfully, maintaining his silence. Eventually, when they had fallen silent again, Georgina continued.

“The hand was joined by its companion and, together, they proceeded to assault me in the most intimate and disgusting way. Throughout this ordeal, I continued to struggle to escape my bondage, or to alert the servants to my desperate plight, but all to no avail. The most unwelcome groping continued and, to my eternal shame, my body betrayed me and responded to these touches by stimulating unsought carnal desire within me!” This brought a more equivocal reaction as the guests struggled to come to terms with this troublesome information.

“Don’t blame yourself, dear,” Lady Martlesham said sympathetically, leaning forward and taking her hand. “Your body’s reaction does not indicate your mental reaction. We have no doubt that you abhorred this treatment despite any…physical sign to the contrary.”

“Thank you,” Georgina responded with a grateful smile. “Indeed, I felt as though my reaction was a betrayal of my dear Robert, and has engendered a sense of guilt that I have carried to this day.”

“Throw off your guilt, dear lady,” Emily’s husband, Anthony, exclaimed. “This dastardly treatment was clearly imposed against your will, and should not be taken as any reflection on your own character.” Georgina gave him a look of gratitude in response to his words, then gathered her composure to resume her tale.

“After some time, the fingers that had been tormenting me were replaced…by the weight of a body lying atop me! And now my abasement became complete as the unknown assailant raped me, not once but over and over again, and for what seemed to be a matter of hours. Eventually, when this fiend had taken everything that he wanted from me, I heard the click of fingers and once more fell asleep. When I awoke next, it was morning and the maid was standing over me with my breakfast. The bindings and the gag were gone, I was once more wearing my nightdress, and I was under the covers. The only evidence of the night’s events were my memories and the soreness of my body.

“I immediately dressed and proceeded to interview each of the servants, interrogating them in the sternest manner to establish that the house had been secured correctly the evening before and no change to that had occurred during the night. I also quizzed them closely on whether they had heard or seen any untoward activity, but no-one had anything they could report. I could detect no attempt to lie or deceive me, and so I had to believe them—there had been no break-in, no-one had been given access and, as far as everyone else was concerned, it had been a perfectly quiet and unremarkable evening. I was completely at a loss.”

“Did you tell Robert of these events when he returned?” Sir John asked calmly.

“No, John, I didn’t,” Georgina admitted. “Having ruled out all of the possible explanations, I came to the same conclusion that I’m sure you are all thinking but not saying in order to save my blushes—that I must have imagined it. If that were true, and it seemed to be the only explanation, then how could I possibly admit it to my husband? I would be saying that I harboured sick and twisted sexual fantasies, with which I indulged myself when he was away. It seemed like the worst kind of betrayal. I couldn’t believe that of myself, and I couldn’t do that to him.”

Emily and Lady Martlesham consoled Georgina, while Anthony and Lord Martlesham continued to discuss the events she had described, betraying a keen interest in the particulars. Sir John sat apart, deep in thought.

“Did these events recur, Georgina?” he asked eventually.

“Indeed they did, John,” she responded, “the very next week, and in exactly the same circumstances—the chimes, the owl hooting, waking up to the nightmare once more and, in the morning, no sign of the torment I had suffered, other than the physical and mental pain I was feeling. I again questioned the servants and checked the locks, to no result. This time, I insisted that, every evening, all the keys would be brought to my bedroom, and I had both the footman and butler check and report back that all doors were secured. And yet, the very next week, I found myself once more living through this awful nightmare.

“But on this latest occasion, there were significant, and even more alarming, developments. When I awoke in the middle of the night this time, I was not tied naked to the bed. Instead, I was still naked, but I found myself standing, with my legs splayed wide and my arms above my head, all restrained in these positions by fiendishly tight rope at my wrists and ankles. My supposition was that I was beside the bed, bound to the bedposts, but with my eyes covered I could not confirm that. All I knew for certain was that I was once again helpless and completely open to assault.”

“My god, this is outrageous!” Lord Martlesham exclaimed, banging his fist on the table. “You have our deepest sympathies, Georgina. I can only hope that your tale will end with the apprehension and punishment of whoever perpetrated such indignities upon you!”

“In good time, Sir,” Georgina continued tensely, “I must first recount the most distressing and painful part of the story. Thus restrained, the fiend, whoever he was, had total access to my body and, to my shame, used it in the most disgusting ways. He groped and raped me as he had done before on the bed but, with me in this new position, he could, and did, get behind me and….” At this point, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, and Emily embraced her, trying to comfort and calm her.

“Please don’t feel that you have to continue if it is too painful,” Anthony said.

“No, no, I must continue, this is painful but therapeutic,” Georgina replied, regaining her composure. “Forgive my language, but there is no genteel way to describe what transpired. This monster raped me…in my anus. It was hideously painful, as well as humiliating and degrading, as you can imagine. At this stage, in the depths of my despair, I assumed things could not get any worse. To my dismay, I was proved wrong.

“When he had sated his appalling sexual urges, he left me hanging from the ropes, limp and exhausted. I had begun to hope that my ordeal was over when I heard a strange and frightening whistling sound as something moved rapidly through the air. Moments later my back exploded with agonising pain as the tails of a whip struck me across the shoulder blades. I screamed desperately into the cloth stuffing my mouth, begging incoherently for mercy, but another lash of the whip slashed against the skin around my waist. The leather snaked around me, whipping against my hips and stomach, increasing my suffering unimaginably.

“The beating was frenzied, bringing agonies beyond reason to every inch of my back. Just when I was sure I could endure no more, he moved in front of me and began whipping my breasts, before aiming his final few blows between my legs to strike my inner thighs and…higher.” There was a general murmuring of outrage at this description, and Emily once more comforted the distraught hostess as the memory became too much for her.

“I may have lost consciousness during this assault,” she continued, “but my next memory was of Maria, my maid, shaking me awake. My body hurt so much that I knew that, this time, my torment was real and, when I examined myself in the mirror, I could see the livid marks of the whip all over my back. Strangely, this made me happy, because it confirmed that this was not all my imaginings. I finally had concrete evidence that I could show to Robert and I explained to him the events of the past few weeks.

“When I did so, I was immensely relieved to find that he believed me implicitly. He comforted me and promised to resolve this terrible mystery. And that is what he did. The following week, he had determined exactly what was happening and had dealt with it. Though we stayed in the same house for another two years before returning to England, nothing of this kind ever happened again.”

“But do tell us, Georgina,” Lady Martlesham urged, “what was the cause of these events?”

Georgina smiled, clearly relieved to have finally been able to unburden herself of such a terrible secret. “I thought that could be our final parlour game of the evening,” she replied, her mood now light and teasing. “You have heard all of the facts. Can you guess the solution?”

Seeing that their hostess, after such a stressful confession, was in the mood to be entertained, her guests discussed the possibilities animatedly and with great gusto. Anthony was convinced that the intruder had broken in to the house and suggested a possible subterranean route of entry, thus avoiding the inconvenient evidence of securely locked windows and doors. Lord Martlesham loudly maintained that ‘it was an inside job’—that one of the servants had betrayed her.

“All foreigners are a bit shady,” he barked, “probably taking bribes to allow criminals in.” Emily and Lady Martlesham, on the other hand, were sure that there was a supernatural explanation.

“You’re very quiet, John,” Georgina said, looking at the man opposite her at the table. “Do you have a theory?”

“I think I do,” he replied thoughtfully. “I recently read a paper by a Scottish surgeon named Braid on the subject of a technique called ‘hypnosis’, in which he purports that a patient can be placed in an altered state of consciousness, a trance. While in this state, the patient becomes extremely suggestible, and can be made to perform acts that they would not normally countenance.

“My theory is that you, Georgina, were somehow placed in such a trance and ordered to follow certain instructions when you heard thirteen chimes followed by the hoot of an owl. Those instructions would have involved going downstairs to the front door and allowing entry to this odious cad.”

“Bravo, John!” Georgina smiled, applauding his perspicacity, “you are perfectly correct! Robert, of course, had to take a rather less intellectual route to the solution. He left for business as usual on Sunday evening, but secretly returned and, taking a room in a nearby hostel, began a nocturnal vigil, taking up a position where he could view the house but not be seen himself.

“Three nights passed without incident but, on the fourth night, he spied a figure take up position beneath the window of the bedroom and ring out thirteen chimes with a bell, before using an instrument to produce an owl’s hoot. He then moved to the front door where, a few moments later, I appeared, in only my nightdress. He entered and the door closed.

“Robert quietly followed, watching through the slightly ajar bedroom door as the stranger stripped me out of my night clothes and tied me to the bed frame. Robert refused to tell me what happened subsequently but, when I saw my attacker in a police cell some days later, his arm was in a sling and his face was bruised and battered. Whether by Robert or the police I could not say.”

“Who was this fiend?” Emily asked.

“Some weeks before,” Georgina replied, “I had visited a doctor Benedetto regarding a bout of sleeplessness I had been suffering. He had proposed this form of treatment, which he called ‘mesmerism’, during which he would plant the suggestion that I become overwhelmingly tired whenever lying down in bed. It transpires that he planted other suggestions at the same time! Thankfully, the ordeal ended successfully, with the doctor struck off and imprisoned.”

The guests applauded Georgina for her bravery in sharing her tale with them, and congratulated John on identifying the correct solution. Shortly afterwards, the party came to a conclusion and the couples departed.

“May I have a word with you, Georgina?” John said as the other guests left. The hostess led him into the parlour room and sat to hear what he had to say.

“There is something I chose not to say in front of the others that I feel I must share with you,” he began, his face carrying a serious expression. “The paper I read speculated about the process of hypnotism, suggesting that the patient could not be made to do anything that he or she were not, consciously or subconsciously, willing to do.”

“What are you saying, John?” Georgina asked, rather taken aback.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Georgina,” John replied earnestly, “I do not intend any judgement. Clinically, it is entirely possible to have subconscious needs and desires that the conscious mind considers abhorrent. Equally, such desires are not ‘wrong’ because they go against our perceived moral code. The fact is, Georgina, I believe that you may have a subconscious desire to be treated in the way that this evil Italian doctor forced upon you.”

“Oh my word!” the widow exclaimed. “Are you saying that I wanted this all along?! That I brought it on myself?! That I betrayed my dear, departed husband?!”

“No, no, nothing of the sort!” John protested. “Forgive me if I have offended you, that was not my intention. We cannot control our subconscious selves, and sometimes it might feel like they betray us. You were always entirely faithful to Robert, and you were not the cause of the actions of this sick pervert; he alone takes the blame in this. What I am concerned about, as a doctor, is that you are entirely healthy. I would like to treat you to ensure there are no residual effects from the mistreatment you have suffered.”

“What form would your treatment take?” Georgina asked, rather nervously.

“I would need to put you back in your trance state to identify whether Benedetto’s instructions are still in situ and, if so, remove them. I would also like to explore…other aspects of your experience.”

“What do you mean?” John looked away and seemed troubled by the question.

“I think I need to make a confession at this point, Georgina,” he continued eventually. “I have admired you from the first time I met you although, of course, I suppressed those feelings while you and Robert were together. Since Robert died, I have seen how you have honoured his memory and suffered from his loss. But that has only made me admire you more, and that admiration has since developed into a deep and passionate love for you. I now find that, since you began telling your story earlier, my mind is full of images of you naked, bound, and gagged by my own hand, and with thoughts of how I would pleasure myself with your body while helpless in that state.”

“Oh, John!” Georgina exclaimed, her hands flying to cover her open mouth as her eyebrows shot up in astonishment.

“I’ve said too much!” John cried, interpreting her reaction as one of horror. “I apologise profusely for allowing my personal desires to cloud my thoughts. I should leave.” He stood up, distraught that he had misjudged the situation so badly and destroyed forever his chances of becoming more intimate with the attractive woman he so desired. But as he started to walk towards the door, Georgina clasped his arm.

“No, John, don’t leave!” she pleaded. “I…I too desire what you describe. I feel that I have mourned my dear Robert long enough, to the point where my life is stagnating. I need to break free and begin to live again, to experience things once more, to love again.” John returned to his seat and Georgina, once more in control of herself, leaned towards him eagerly.

“I have developed feelings of love for you too, John,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile, “and I also find that, following my little speech tonight, I am desperate to experience those same feelings as before—of being bound, being used, and even being punished for my wantonness. I want to experience all that with you, John, and I want it now, tonight!” The two fell into each other’s arms, their lips locked in a passionate kiss that lasted many minutes.

Eventually, they released each other and stood up, Georgina taking up a small bell from the occasional table and ringing it. The door opened and James, the butler, entered.

“You can lock up now, James,” she said, “Sir John will be staying the night.”

“Very good, ma’am,” the butler responded. “Should I make up a guest room?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” she murmured, a slight smile playing on her lips. “I think I’ll retire to bed now. James, would you give Sir John a tour of the workshops before he joins me? I think he might find some of the equipment Robert accumulated over the years interesting.” The servant nodded, his face perfectly blank, betraying no sign of reaction to his mistress’ command.

The three left the room together, Georgina proceeding up the stairs while the butler led John down into the cellars. John was curious to know what she had intended by having him brought down here but, when they entered the workshop and James showed him what was stored in various drawers and cupboards, he understood perfectly.

He also realised that the butler knew exactly what his mistress wanted and, dismissing any embarrassment he might have been inclined to feel in making the coming night’s activities so plain in front of a servant, selected the items he might require later. James collected them without comment and, when John was finished, took him back upstairs and up to the mistress’ bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Sir,” the butler said, his face still expressionless as he handed the items he had been carrying to the gentleman.

“Goodnight, James, and thank you for your help,” John replied before entering the bedroom.

He found Georgina in the bed, in her nightdress. Her eyes were closed, but he could see from the tenseness in every muscle of her body that she was not asleep. He placed the equipment retrieved from the workshop on the foot of the bed.

“Remaining in your trance state, get out of bed and remove your clothing,” John ordered in a clipped, commanding tone. He determined that Georgina wished to maintain the pretence that she was hypnotised and unable to resist, just as she had described earlier, and he decided to indulge her by acting his role in this play to the full.

Breathing rapidly in her excitement, Georgina pulled back the covers and stepped out of the bed, standing before him with her eyes still firmly clamped shut. She reached down and drew her full-length nightgown up and over her head, dropping it on the bed behind her.

Now she stood there naked, and John ran an appraising look across her luscious form, drinking in the details. He took in the swell of her breasts as they rose and fell rapidly due to her shallow, almost gasping breaths, the dark colour of her areolae, the way her nipples stood out proud and erect, the curve of her full hips below her still-slender waist, and the elegance of her legs as she stood with her feet slightly apart. He had imagined this vision for many years, but the reality far exceeded the limits of his imagination. He just stood and stared at her in silence for long minutes, just appreciating.

“Assume the position in which you will be bound,” he barked, knowing that the harshness of his treatment of her, both physically and verbally, would all feed into her fantasy, and thus her enjoyment.

He had expected her to lie on the bed, but instead she walked across the bedroom to a curious wooden frame he had noticed on entering but had not marked its purpose. The frame consisted of two horizontal steel rails held approximately three or four feet apart by the rest of the wooden structure. Georgina pressed herself up against one rail, the cold metal lying across her upper thighs, then leaned forward and grasped the other rail, her arms outstretched beyond her head.

John walked over to her, admiring the sight of her full breasts hanging down below her and her generous rump thrust invitingly up and out behind. As he passed the bed, he picked up the various lengths of soft, white rope he had selected in the workshop and proceeded to tie her to the frame in her stretched position. He heard suppressed whimpering sounds coming from her as he wrapped the rope around her wrists and pulled it tight before tying it to the steel bar in front of her. She looked up at him and the desperate lust in her eyes was unmistakable. He heard another gasp as he pulled her legs apart and tied her ankles to the base of the frame.

Straightening up, he admired her taut body afresh and, unable to restrain himself any longer, ran his hands over her warm, smooth skin, groping her breasts and rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger, eliciting a moan of appreciation from the bound woman.

Tearing himself away from her reluctantly, he fetched the cloth and eye mask he had selected and quickly gagged and blindfolded her. Georgina was now in a state of full restraint and, consequently, full arousal. She pulled against the ropes and screamed into the gag, testing the extent of her helplessness and finding it satisfyingly complete. She was now ready and eager for the next phase of her submission but, to her confusion, she could no longer sense John close by her.

She was becoming agitated at being left alone and untouched, not realising that John was just watching, entranced, as she struggled vainly but alluringly before him. When he finally did approach her again, she was delighted to feel the warmth of his naked body pressing against her as he mirrored her prone position. He kissed her neck and reached around her to fondle her breasts, before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She moaned in response, unable to maintain the fiction that she was in any way resisting such treatment. The truth of it was that she was glorying in his touch, delighted by the feeling of his lips, tongue and teeth across her back, until he was licking, kissing, and biting her buttocks.

Standing directly behind her, he reached between her thighs and felt the hot dampness of her entrance and knew that she was ready for him. As he slid himself into her, pushing in until his thighs pressed against the back of hers, he was rewarded by the sound of a muffled cry and saw her head rise as her body tensed. This spasm had the effect of clamping around his erection, causing him to cry out in surprise and pleasure at the sensations she was sending through him.

Taking firm grip around her hips, he thrust violently and rapidly in and out of her eager, well-lubricated sex, forcing a regular, breathless grunt from her that exactly matched the rhythm of his penetrations. He was overwhelmed by animal lust that drove him to pound at her more violently than he had ever intended but, from the ecstatic noises she was emitting, he surmised that his roughness was exactly what she desired.

As he began to shout out his own guttural expression of his enjoyment, he impulsively took hold of the auburn hair streaming down her back and pulled cruelly on it, snapping her head back in response. It seemed as though this final act of violence tipped her over the edge and she screamed uncontrollably as the orgasm finally overtook her.

John, knowing what had just happened but yet to reach such sweet relief himself, withdrew from her sex and stared hungrily down at her spread buttocks. He knew it was wrong, that it would cause her great pain, but he was too consumed by naked lust to think rationally or be able to restrain himself. He pulled her buttocks wider apart with his clawed hands and forced himself into her tight, puckered hole without thought for her discomfort.

Having delighted in the sensations of her orgasm, Georgina now felt the searing pain of his second entry. Her screams of ecstasy transformed into cries of agony as he once more established a punishing rhythm of thrusts, made all the more painful by her tightness there. But she endured it with stoicism, knowing that she had willingly given John licence to do whatever he wished to her. Indeed, she was pleased to learn that he was uninhibited enough to do this, regardless of any discomfort she may suffer. She wanted to be used, and that was certainly what he was doing!

Thankfully, the ordeal was short-lived as John, already close to climax, gave an animal cry of release, and Georgina felt her innards flood with his hot seed. Sated, John withdrew and staggered to the bed, sitting down to regain his breath and composure.

Now he contemplated the next phase of the debasement of this beautiful woman, and he quailed at the prospect. What he wanted to do at that moment was to release her, to comfort her, to take away her pain. But what he knew he must do was the exact opposite—he must beat her, violently and without mercy. It was what she felt she deserved, what she expected him to do, what she wanted him to do. On a theoretical basis, from a medical and psychological viewpoint, he understood her need. But on a personal level, he struggled with the concept that he must be the cause of her suffering.

He looked at the items he had brought from the cellar, a fearsome array of weaponry, and wondered at their provenance. He had to assume that they had obtained by his friend Robert, and that they had been used by him on Georgina, with her full consent. It reassured him that if someone like Robert, for whom violence was anathema, could do this, then so could he. Hardening his resolve, he determined not to disappoint the subject of his love and carnal desire by refusing this difficult task.

Thus decided, he appraised the devices before him anew to determine the best suited to his purposes. He rejected the riding crop, rattan cane, and bullwhip as too likely to deliver significant tissue damage if not applied with the correct weight and force. He also rejected the wooden paddle on the basis that he was unsure of its correct use, and he thus he might consequently fail to satisfy Georgina’s need to feel adequately punished. He finally selected his weapon of choice and returned to stand over the prone woman, who was thus far unaware of his presence and the threat he represented.

Georgina had been waiting patiently, using the time to recover her stamina and to come to terms with the discomfort of her assault to date. She wondered if John would be willing and able to meet her needs. It had taken her considerable time to persuade Robert to satisfy her in this way, and he had been her husband and lover for some considerable time. Perhaps John would demur, and—

Her train of thought was broken by the slap of leather across her back and the sudden arrows of pain that shot into her brain. Before she could fully process those sensations, a second blow landed across her back, sending fresh signals firing through her body. Finally, she screamed in response to the pain she was feeling, struggling desperately but in vain to escape the continuing assault.

She became dimly aware that she was being lashed by the flogger, a device with many open leather strands but without knots or beads that would rip the skin open. It was a good choice, she acknowledged, because it would deliver the requisite level of chastisement without creating long-lasting disfigurement.

John applied the flogger from her shoulders, across the small of her back, her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, all the way down to her knees. He watched with fascination as, each time the leather thongs slapped against her skin, the flesh wobbled under the force of the blow. Her body twitched in response as she instinctively struggled to move away from the constant punishment, but the ropes held her too tightly and she had no choice but to suffer the beating.

As her skin reddened under his determined assault, John decided that she had suffered enough, and resolved that he would only deliver another few strikes before releasing and comforting her, trying to ease some of that pain. But, as he swiped the flogger across her glowing rump, he suddenly heard the tone and tenor of her muffled cries change. Not quite willing to believe what he thought was happening, he hit her again across her buttocks and, when he obtained the same result, knew he had to continue. To his astonishment, he realised that this savage beating was bringing her to orgasm!

As he continued to thrash her behind, he noticed how the tips of the flexible leather fronds curled between her open thighs, smacking against her exposed labia, and understanding dawned. Whilst the punishment she was receiving must be agony, it was also delivering intense sexual stimulation. His sense of amazement and admiration of this remarkable woman rose to new levels.

As he heard her scream out in the moment of climax, John immediately dropped the flogger and, untying her from the frame, carried her to the bed and lay her on her stomach. He removed the gag and blindfold, stroking her sweat-soaked hair away from her face.

“Soothing cream,” she croaked, waving her arm weakly at the dressing table. John picked up the bottle he found and returned to the bedside, applying the cool unguent to her fiery skin as gently as was possible. Eventually, when he had worked it into every inch of her abused flesh, she recovered sufficiently to look up at him.

“Thank you so much,” she said quietly. “You were marvelous. It was everything I have needed for so long. Please, lie with me.” John joined her on the bed and they kissed and hugged each other for some considerable time. Georgina’s energy gradually returned and, with it, her libido.

“You must be quite exhausted from all that work,” she murmured, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Now just lie back and let me show my appreciation.” As John remained supine on his back, Georgina rose up to her knees and straddled him. Slowly, gently, she lowered herself onto his erect penis, her face suffused with a mixture of agony and ecstasy.

When he was fully inside her, she began to rock backwards and forwards, very slowly, her eyes closed and her mouth alternating between a beatific smile and a perfect O as delightful sensations ran through her body. The speed of her movements gradually increased as her arousal grew, and she started to make small whimpering sounds.

Suddenly unable to restrain himself any longer, John clasped her hips and swung her around so that she was beneath him, her legs snaking around his body and gripping him. As he began to thrust into her, he saw her face crumple in pain, and realised that her tender back was being rubbed against the bedsheet. Quickly, he flipped her over and, still holding her thighs tightly, took her as he had done on the frame—from behind and roughly. Her face was buried in a pillow, that was muffling the rising volume of her cries, while her whip-marked posterior was presented delightfully before him.

When they had both achieved another wonderful orgasm, they collapsed onto the bed in happy exhaustion.

“I never knew that friendship could be quite this enjoyable,” John smiled as he toyed with Georgina’s nipple. “I do hope you will allow me to provide you similar ‘therapy’ again in future.”

“What you mean, ‘future’?” she responded hotly. “I don’t believe our current session is yet complete!” So saying, she bent over him and took his flaccid member into her mouth.

“Oh my word!” John cried, gripping the bedsheet on either side as she quickly brought him to attention once more, “I can see I am going to have to tie you down just to get some respite!”

“Really?” Georgina queried, looking up briefly from her task. “What a wonderful idea!”

THE END