The Boiler Room Ch 01

Lady Ritzdale sits on the observation deck, she takes a sip of her tea. Its assam today, it is fashionable to drink earl grey like the king but like everything in life, she prefers something a little bolder, more intense. The voyage has taken four weeks so far, not long now. She is a long way from her little Welsh mining village near Milford Haven now. Geoffrey, her sweet heart is probably in the study reading a little Jane Sharpe or persuading the washer woman to give him fellatio.

She is bored of playing chess with Mr Charlsworth, she stares at him almost with contempt while he obtusely ponders and re-ponders his next move, all the while twisting his long thin white moustache as though he is winding up a clockwork mouse. She puts the tea cup back on the saucer and takes a look into the tea leaves, they have formed into a row of thin black strips all in the same direction. She squints at them, they almost look like black rose petals.

He finally makes his move, the king and the rook swap places and the trap is sprung. "Checkmate I believe Mr Charlswroth." Just then Mr Wilson approaches with a small piece of blotting paper in his hand. He whispers into Mr Charsworth's ear and then looks up at her while Charsworth slips him a five pound note. "Terribly sorry."

"Miss Ritzdale." She rolls her eyes. "Lady Ritzdale, Mr Wilson." Mr Wilson rests his hand on the brass butt of his plasma pistol. "Yes of course... would you like to explain to me why one of the crew has found a loaded elephant gun in your room madam."

"Is it illegal to own a gun now Mr Wilson?"

"No but I am in charge of security and it is against regulation to have weapons on board the ship unless they are securely stored in the hold." She grins as she strokes the pocket pistol strapped to her thigh while she caresses her chest with her other. Mr Wilson's eyes are immediately drawn to her ample chest.

Charsworth knows better than that and keeps an eye on her other hand. "Oh Mr Wilson.... I'm terribly sorry, I was just cleaning it, I'll have James put it in my hold trunk at once." Mr Charlesworth gives her a dirty look knowing full well that she is just playing innocent. "I have had it sent to the vault for safe keeping. here is your combination madam." He hands her the piece of blotting paper with a six digit number printed on it. "Thank you." She says begrudgingly.

Charlsworth takes her gloved hand. "Lets take a walk my dear." He grabs his walking cane and stands up, raising his hand, gesturing for her to stand up, she moves with him making it look as though he is lifting her up effortlessly as they look into each others eyes. They start walking and make one lap of the deck without making a sound as she follows his lead.

He leads her into his cabin, he gently pushes her inside as he looks to the left and the right making sure the coast is clear. He quickly slams the door behind them and looks her in the eye, his face full of anger. "What the hell were you thinking child!" She defiantly looks him back in the eye. "I'm twenty four now uncle Charlie"

"Yes and still acting like a fourteen year old girl!"

He grabs her by her narrow waist and spins her around gently as though they were doing a ballet dance together, he can feel the whale bones inside her corset through her jacket. She ends up facing the bed, and he firmly applies pressure to the small of her back. He cannot help but admire her perfect hour glass figure as he bends her over the bed. The foot board digging into her abdomen as she lays there bent over the bed.

He takes his walking cane and bends it in his hands, she can hear it creak as he flexes. Then he lets go with one hand and takes control of the cane, waving it around as if it were a fencing sword. He raises the hem of her dress with the brass tip of his cane, resting it on the small of her back to expose her perfectly formed derrière, then with a swoosh he swings, her firm buttocks rippling for a fraction of a second in an almost hypnotic fashion as it strikes her.

She lets out a quiet yelp of a squeal as the sting of the cane bites through her buttocks. "One." Again her strikes her his cane again, this time even harder, she bites her lip, clenching the bed sheets as a tear comes to her eye. "...Two." She can feel her buttocks burning with pain as they start to glow a rosy red colour. Then he swings more slowly, stopping just before her bottom and the cane connects, he is teasing her, testing his swing like a golfer or crochet player.

She knows its going to be a big one, she tries to reach for a pillow but cannot reach, she tries to grab a fold of the duvet before the next stroke, she is too slow and the shaft of the cane hits her at break neck speed with a loud crack that echoes around the room.

"Three."

She quickly grabs a roll of the duvet and bites down hard just as the next stroke smacks into her bringing a single tear to her eye. "Four."

The caning turns into a frenzy, and he continues in quick succession. "Five, Six, Seven." Each number instantly followed by a large crack as he canes his beautiful nice her dress drooping over her perfectly formed body to reveal her firm bulbous bottom tapering from her narrow waist. As he gazes at her sweet buttocks mesmerised he begins to feel a stir in his trousers, he becomes semi aroused, a small drop of sticky pre emission forming within his breeches.

She bites down even harder as he continues, a sweat forming on his brow as he becomes slightly breathless from the exhortation. "Eight- nine!...TEN!" The tenth and final stroke is the hardest making her scream as she bites down on the duvet. He puts the cane down on the dresser and takes a deep breath. "This is a very important mission Sarah, what would your father say?" She gets up and looks at him, her bottom now throbbing and burning with a powerful stinging sensation that burns deep into her buttocks.

His mast has risen to something a liking to a tent pole within his pants. She stands up and turns as her dress drops over her hips and covers her legs, concealing her bright red stinging buttocks which bloom from her finely embroidered French knickers. As she turns she notices his large semi erect package

She cannot help but notice it. He gasps as she gently paces her petite silk gloved hand on his manhood. "Yes uncle Charlie what would my father say!!" Just then someone knocks at the door. "Are you aright in there sir?" She opens the door and tidies her now slightly ruffled hair, her cheeks are red and she looks flushed from all of the excitement. "Yes my uncle is fine."

She makes for her room and steps into the en suite bathroom. She raises her hem and her petticoat, and sits down on the porcelain throne. She removes her elbow length gloves with her teeth and places them on the counter next to her. The cold ceramic soothes her bright red throbbing buttocks as she sits. She stands up slightly and lightly touches her bottom, it feels warm from all the hot blood that rushed to the area and there is a slightly sticky area where a small drop of blood has been absorbed by her knickers.

She sits back down removes a small journal and pencil from her right jacket pocket and begins to write. 'As planned I have managed to gain a combination for one of the safes without being seen in the vault. It is now a simple case of swapping the card with my code written on it for the one with our mutual friends combination written on it. Uncle Charlie gave me another thrashing just now. I looked at my bottom in the dresser mirror the other day and it had a hand print on it!

I will be having trouble sitting down for the next few days. Camilla was right though, it is all just in the mind. I'm actually starting to quite like it.' She strokes her pin stripe stockings with her bare hands working her way up past her pocket pistol and between her legs running one of her middle fingers over her love bud, rubbing it through her French knickers as she strokes the lips of her quim with her other hand. There is a silky feeling as she gently massages her love garden, she looks down at her glistening black panties, her knickers are soaking wet.