Thanks to all of you who commented on the first chapter of my novella. It certainly provoked strong reactions; you either loved it or hated it! Fortunately a majority of you expressed approval which encourages me to continue. Before introducing the second chapter I'd like to respond to some of the points raised.
As some of you have noticed my characterisation is a bit weak and things tend to move to a climax rather quickly. I think its called premature literary ejaculation! I'll try and do better in future. Yes I know its draft not draught, don't you just hate it that spell checker lets you down when you really need it most. But it's encouraging to know my text is being read critically and closely.
I should perhaps have made it clear that the first chapter described two sets of events separated by about twelve hours. The time shifts were indicated by lines of asterisks. If the appropriate paragraphs are shuffled around the two events can be separated but I felt it was more intriguing the way I wrote it. I may experiment with this technique again later in the novella.
Someone suggested that calling a woman a whore, even a perfect whore, is offensive; this was not my intention. In the context of my fantasy novella is was intended as high praise. As I mentioned, the story could equally well have been called the perfect wife or perhaps the perfect woman. Men have such high expectations of women, expecting them to combine the roles of mother, housekeeper, nurse, hostess, advisor, cook, lover and whore.
I consider that my choice of title was vindicated by the number of 'hits' my story received; far more than the combined total of my three previous submissions.
Why do some of you think Graham is a wimp? During Beverley's prolonged absence at a porn film shoot (chapter VI) followed by a stay at a Health Spa (chapter VIII) Graham has to satisfy his urgent sexual needs by hiring a university student who is moonlighting in the sex industry between lectures. (Chapter VII) Incidentally, I wrote this chapter before Belle de Jour was shown on TV!
In chapters II and III I have attempted to bring some humour into the story. The title Whipping Girl has a double meaning; someone to blame (as in whipping boy) and someone who becomes sexually aroused when chastised. For good measure there is also some cross dressing! Again I would greatly appreciate feedback.
Chapter II Whipping Girl
On mature reflection Beverley decided that dramatic irreversible gestures of independence would not help her cause. Instead she decided to adopt a softly-softly approach with regard to her future. Looking back on what had occurred she realised that the two men had exploited her to suit their own sexual needs. While she had enjoyed it, in future she wanted to be in control of her sexual destiny rather than the casual plaything of her husband and his best friend.
Beverley had a quiet word with Graham and asked him discourage John from making any further unannounced visits; she intended that any future encounters would be on her terms not his. Discretion being the better part of valour, she didn't inform her husband of John's second visit. She also resolved never again to let a man with a large cock bugger her; she was sore for a week after John's penetration! As a small gesture of independence she registered for a week-long Summer School later in the year at Oxford on the History of Art.
Life resumed its normal uneventful course; shopping, cooking, housework, coffee mornings, the Women's Institute, theatre trips and sex with Graham three times a week. She could put up with most of it but the sex was no longer satisfying her awakened desires and fantasies. One day, when feeling particularly frustrated, she even braved the secret masculine world of the Sex Shop in search of vaginal toys. It was clear that her presence had an unsettling effect on the men silently immersed in the pornographic cornucopia of books, DVDs, blow up dolls and devices for enlarging the penis. A real live woman was an unwanted distraction from the compliant smiling women displaying their charms in such abundant graphic detail in the magazines. Remembering the photographs that Graham liked to take of her she wondered vaguely how much she could earn posing for pornographic photographs or performing in porn films.
A few weeks later while shopping in town, she stopped off for a coffee in the shopping mall. Glancing in a mirror at the end of the room she noticed that a man was looking at her. He on the other hand did not realise he was being monitored. She crossed her legs and showed a couple more inches of thigh. Oh yes he definitely liked that! Then she did an absolutely absurd thing; she let her handbag accidentally fall on the floor and pretended not to notice. After a few moments he came over and picked it up. She smiled; he lingered; she asked him to sit down. He introduced himself and she responded with her maiden name; at least she would be unlikely to forget it!
He told her he was in town on business but found himself with a few hours on his hands. She offered to show him the less than considerable charms of the town centre while praying she wouldn't meet anyone she knew. They stopped off for a drink at a bistro. She asked for a large gin and tonic. He looked at her quizzically, trying to weigh her up; she knew he was going to proposition her. He asked what the hotels were like locally. Could she recommend anything? She showed him the way to the best hotel in the town centre then waited while he booked himself in. Inevitably, he asked if she would like to come up to his room. Her mind was racing; she wasn't really wearing the right sort of underwear for an encounter with a stranger in a hotel bedroom in the middle of the afternoon.
Should she make her excuses and leave, as the cliché has it? Should she dash into the ladies and take all her underwear off before going upstairs? No, that was definitely not a good idea; he would assume she was a prostitute. What about taking all her clothes off in the bathroom and coming out naked? No that was a little too bold and it would probably result in it all being over in five minutes. She wanted to be flattered, pampered and coaxed before she would let him fuck her.
She had an idea; she told him she had some urgent business to attend to but would come up to his room in about half an hour. As she scurried back through the shopping mall, she met Margaret Wilson, a leading light in the Women's Institute who insisted on telling her the less than exciting news about next months talk entitled
Origami Through The Ages.
She listening with rising impatience until finally Margaret asked her where she was going. She replied with a suitably vague response and wondered what Margaret's reaction would have been had she told her that she was off to buy some sexy lingerie in order to induce a total stranger to shag her!
Finally she got away and dashed into the
Utterly Sinful
lingerie boutique. It was all a ridiculous rip off; £40 or more for tiny wisps of nylon or silk which made no pretence of offering even the slightest regard to feminine modesty and was of no practical use whatsoever. Fifteen minutes later she had made her expensive selection of bra and minimalist knickers with matching suspender belt and stockings; and just to prolong the inevitable striptease, a delicate nylon slip. In all it came to £185; she would have to make sure that Graham didn't' get a sight of her credit card account next month.
Back at the hotel she tried to make an inconspicuous entrance; a rather difficult trick to pull off while she was carrying a lurid purple and yellow bag emblazoned with the logo of the
Utterly Sinful
lingerie boutique. She located the stranger's bedroom and knocked on the door; he let her in. He was already undressed and wearing a hotel bathrobe. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket beside the large double bed. Things were starting to look up.
She excused herself and went into the bathroom and locked the door. After undressing and showering she took a careful look at herself in the full length mirror. Not bad at all for forty-five years of age; tits still firm and a sexy hour glass figure. She trimmed off some of her pubic hair and then began to put on her battle dress. Sexy lingerie was ridiculously expensive but there was no doubt that it was a tremendous boost to a woman's confidence, it made her feel powerful and in control.
