I'd like to spank, er, thank! My wife Mrs. 123z for the inspiration and ideas for this gothic type tall tale.
x
Isle of Wight, 1891.
As the horse drawn carriage drew up to the foreboding mansion I felt a distinct feeling of dread leap up in my bosom. It seemed like a cliché from an old ghost story as the storm grew ever more ferocious and Peter and myself were soaked by the heavy rain as we stood on the threshold of Bartholomew Mansion. We had been met at the pier after disembarking from the ferry boat and the driver had told us to look for the Crab and Lobster Inn which would mean it would be a matter of minutes before we would catch sight of the old house. I gripped the hand of my husband as we awaited the valet to open the door and let us inside the sanctuary of the house. I only wish that we had fled at that moment as we would never have experienced that fateful visit.
x
Jane Bartholomew and I had been the best of friends ever since we left our girls finishing school in Frinton back in the Summer of 1890. We had kept a close correspondence right up until I wed Peter a year ago and when she inherited the mansion and grounds from her grandfather located in Bembridge on the Isle of Wight. Since then we had no further contact, she deciding to ignore all my letters, and I was determined to seek out my best friend and introduce her to Peter. The sky was black as the door creaked open and a mouse like chambermaid looked up at us with eyes as big as saucers.
"Let us in, I implore you child. Jane Bartholomew and I are old friends and am sure she would frown upon you by leaving us outside in such inclement conditions."
The young woman in the black and white uniform dithered, unsure what to do when a tall lean man appeared behind her in white gloves and black suit.
"I am Baines, Madam. The man of the house as it were. Mary here does not have the ability to speak."
"Baines is it? I am Mrs Elizabeth Dawkins and this is Peter, my husband. Please, we are soaked through and require warmth and sustenance."
I took in the gaunt visage of the elderly gentleman and his forlorn look and squeezed Peter's hand.
"And so you shall have it. Come inside both of you."
"Many thanks Baines. Is the lady of the house in residence?"
"My Mistress Jane? She is. You are known to her?"
"Why yes. Surely you have perceived the letters I have written to her these last few months?"
"Forgive me, I do not pry into matters that do not concern myself. Let me take you to a room and I shall have Mary fetch you some food and hot tea."
As we ventured further into the hall I was amazed, no, shocked at the decrepit condition of the once opulent mansion. If Jane had been here for these last twelfth months she had ignored the thick dust, cobwebs and torn drapes. A large portrait of Josiah Bartholomew loomed over the hall and the malevolent eyes seemed to follow every person in the hall. Peter and I followed the valet come butler up the winding stairs to a slightly neater room with a bed, table and chairs.
"Make yourselves at home and I shall inform my mistress of your arrival. I expect her to be busy in her private chambers located in the basement."
The basement? Odd place to contemplate I thought. I heard my husband drop our one valise and flop onto the bed, exhausted from our journey. I joined him and snuggled up to my one true love and closed my eyes too. I was not sure how much time had passed when Mary knocked and presented a platter of bread and cold meats and a tea service. When the maid left we eagerly fed ourselves and drank of the welcome hot tea and then stripped ourselves of our wet things and changed into our night attire.
"I'm scared Peter. What if Jane has changed, or wishes us gone. And the servitude is most irregular. This house has a distinct mood of melancholy to be sure."
My beau kissed me on the forehead and hugged me tight.. He always knew how to soothe my worried bosom in times of distress.
"Hush now, my dear. Everything will be clearer in the morn."
I imagined the room to spin then as I laid on my back and the single chandelier above our bed with the seven candles was like a beacon calling me. One final lightning flash illuminated the room as I succumbed to a dream less stupor.
x
When I came to my senses I was in a dank environment with only flickering candles as the sole source of light. I had not the slightest notion of where I was, or indeed what the time was. That was the first thing to come to mind. The second was the startling revelation that I was entirely naked!
"Heavens above! What madness is this!"
I struggled as I realised that my arms were chained at the wrists above my head thus rendering me rooted to the spot. My back was to the stone wall and the cool air of what appeared to be some sort of ancient chamber beneath the very foundations of the house kissed my bared flesh.
"You never should have come here Elizabeth. I had hoped that by my ignoring your letters you would have given up all thought of me and gone about living your own life. As it stands I am now grateful of your presence as you and your betrothed shall add to my personal amusement."
I turned my vulnerable body to my left and from the shadows emerged my one true and trusted female friend ever, Jane. I blinked twice to shake off my induced dizziness as she came into the candle light. Her voice seemed odd and somehow faraway as I perceived her for the first time in over a year. I was stunned and petrified at the sight of the once charming and attractive young lady now transformed into some kind of dominatrix in black.
"Jane? Is that you?" I asked as I screwed up my eyes.
Taller than myself by some three inches the raven haired female now towered to six feet in stratosphere defying black boots with six inch heels. She already had very long legs, incredibly long like a thoroughbred horse, and now they appeared never to quit. Her upper body had been squeezed into a black corset that was constructed of several separate panels of the finest leather. The midsection was drawn in so that her waist was sucked ih even smaller which emphasized her overhanging and massive exposed breasts. Both her arms were encased in arm pit length shiny black gloves which creaked when she moved them. The corset which began at rib level and ended at her hips meant that without bloomers her black haired crotch was exposed for all to see, framed as it were by corset hem and tops of boots.
"Have...have you gone insane? Is that it, Jane?"
I knew the answer even as I spoke as I looked at the glint of madness in her striking kohl lined dark eyes. My thighs closed in a natural defence mechanism as my once beautiful friend came nearer.
"Madness? Maybe, maybe. I feel that if I am to be diagnosed then my ailment should be determined to be a sexual madness. It was when I discovered this chamber of my grandfather's that a, shall I say, an instability overcame me. Josiah was a sadistic and insatiable sex monster who lived for nothing more than the pleasures of the flesh. Unrestrained by morality, freedom or religion he seemed only to experience sexual arousal through the suffering of others. I read his entire library of erotic works, especially those with an emphasis on sadism. Does his spirit live on in me? Or is it the manifestation of this house? Was he insane? Again maybe. Maybe he was the devil himself."
I listened with an open mouth, aghast at her sick and twisted words only to shudder when I realized that my poor, dear Peter was missing.
"What have you done to my husband you witch!" I screamed, so hard that my breasts jiggled on my bared chest.
"Tut, such language from an up and coming young lady. Why I have done nothing with pretty Peter. Yet. Behold."
I looked past Jane and saw the maid Mary, also stark naked and standing beside one of the most horrific pictures my eyes had ever witnessed. My stomach curdled as I saw the naked and wide spread figure of my love chained to a macabre apparatus of metal. The solid back was square and at a thirty degree angle and Peter was secured to it so that his biceps were stretched back and his chest thrust out. An X shaped leg rest held his thighs apart and metal bands were in place over the tops of his knees. Smaller versions of the bands were about his ankles Tears filled my eyes and soaked my cheeks at the sight of his face in a black open top hood that masked the features of his bowed head. His mop of fair hair poked up out of the top and I noted his fine locks were dampened by sweat.
"Mercy me! This is inhuman!"
My eyes were drawn inevitably to the twisted vision of my beloved's limp penis that hung flaccid between his strong thighs over his protruding scrotum. Rigidly bound, naked and helpless we were both at the mercy of this unearthly woman.
"Whatever are your intentions?" I gulped.
Jane walked to and fro, her stiletto heels clattering on the stones of the dungeon floor.
"Not only did I find my grandfather's library but also his collection of restraints and equipment of torture and correction. I so love to use them but one rarely gets the opportunity around these parts. So again, I welcome your company. Let us begin. Baines?"
The lean valet from earlier appeared and his skinny frame was also bereft of clothing. I saw that his ashen body was marked with dozens of welts and old reddish stripes, as if administered by some brutal instrument. He approached me with a long face and the saddest eyes and turned my slender frame forty five degrees and unpinned my light brown hair so that it tumbled about my shoulders. My arms ached from being held up by the chains that rose up to the dark recess of the ceiling, but then my indecorous stance was made even more undignified as Baines spread my legs wide and attached cuffs to my ankles. These, shackled to chains on either side of the walls, opened my legs so that they were apart by three feet. I heard a crank of some apparatus and Baines caused my arms to be drawn up in such a manner that I was forced to dip forwards which made my posterior to thrust up behind me.
"Absolutely perfect." Said Jane admiringly.
Indeed I was trussed up like a chicken, my private parts indecently offered up for heaven knows what torments. Naked and quivering I sobbed quietly as Jane kneaded my breasts one at a time and then smoothed her gloves over my raised bottom.
"You have matured nicely, Elizabeth."
