Chapter 6

“He’s right about one thing, Gwendoline. You have got wonderful arms and shoulders - you and Jessie.”

“You’re no weakling yourself Harriet - why he picked me out from the rest of you is a real mystery!”

“Cause gentlemen always prefer blondes - that’s why,” said Jessica as the three followed the odd gentleman to his home. This was a former farmhouse whose wintry greyness fitted in perfectly with the dreary weather. “They always prefer Gwen to me - even those drunken louts who tried to rape us were keener on her.”

“Old Andy’s the exception, though,” laughed Gwen with a terrible sadness in her heart at the thought of her loss. “He obviously prefers the dark mysterious type.” And she inwardly thought how passionately she shared Andy’s taste!

Once inside the old farmhouse the gentleman showed them all into the stone - floored kitchen and invited them to prepare themselves something to eat.

“I’m an atrocious cook and my housekeeper won’t be back for a few hours - there’s plenty of stuff in the fridge. Make yourselves at home my dears. I can wait until Mrs. Travers comes to get my breakfast.”

“If he is a nutcase, he’s a very generous one,” said Gwendoline. “Let’s get on with it you two.”

They were just finishing their third cup of tea when the owner of the house reappeared, wearing a dressing gown and slippers. He had obviously got out of his soaking wet clothes and had a hot bath.

“Would you ladies like to use the bathroom - I have two, so two of you can share one and this golden-skinned, strong, proud young lady can use the other - allow me to show the way.”

Jessica and Harriet were uneasy at being parted from their friend and self-appointed leader, but Gwendoline displayed no sign of uneasiness and the three separated.

“In here my dear - would you like me to run you a nice hot bath?”

“No thanks I’ll take my usual cold shower - like to watch?”

“If I may - if you don’t think me too terribly naughty! I can be awfully bad sometimes and then I need to be punished severely! You look so wonderfully strong my dear. How beautiful you look with the water running down all over you! I’ll be downstairs when you and your friends are ready.”

And with these words the strange fellow left Gwendoline to continue her ablutions undisturbed.

When all were gathered together again in the farmhouse sitting-room the three explained to Mr. O’Toole the reason for their being naked out in the rain.

“What a fascinating story my dear young people! I think I can help you along the way; I have a friend who lives twenty miles away from here and it would be on your route. I’ll phone him and drive you over there this evening. That way you will have two nice warm nights and days away from the elements. Now - isn’t that a splendid idea?”

Jessica and Harriet were becoming increasingly worried about the situation, but Gwendoline accepted his offer with thanks and asked him what was the special service he wanted her to perform.

“I wonder if you would care to come upstairs with me young lady. I have a very special personal and private room I would like you to see. Your two friends will be very comfortable down here.”

This was true enough, for both Harriet and Jessica were dozing off on the sofa and not even their unease at seeing Gwendoline go upstairs with Mr. O’Toole could rouse them from a much-needed slumber. “She can take care of herself,” was Jessica’s final comment before falling fast asleep. Harriet was unable to reply - being already in the arms of Morpheus.

Mr. O’Toole escorted Gwendoline up to an attic room and opened it using a key which he took out of his dressing-gown pocket.

Once inside the room, Gwendoline looked around her. Mr. O’Toole’s earlier remarks about naughtiness and punishment began to make sense as she surveyed the array of ropes, canes, whips and various kinds of restraints which filled the place.

Gwendoline raised her arms and flexed her muscles.

“I THINK I am strong enough to punish you - you NAUGHTY boy!”

“Please tie me to those rings.” He pointed to two iron rings hanging from the ceiling.

The man then took off his dressing-gown, revealing himself to be naked under it, to Gwendoline’s no great surprise. She was not much impressed with what she saw - Mark had been far more generously endowed!

“Take those slippers OFF,” she snapped; she was already warming to her role as a naked dominatrix.

“And kneel on the floor and kiss both my feet - every toe - PROPERLY!”

When he had done as he was told she raised her right foot and presented the sole to him.

“Lick the sole of my foot all over and then the other one.” She could not repress a slight queasiness in her stomach as he eagerly complied.

“Now get up, you BAD boy and raise your arms so I can tie you up. Oh, you ARE in for it - I bet you’re scared already aren’t you - you WICKED boy!”

“What now?” she asked as the tying up was completed. When she had been in the Girl Guides, she had not in her wildest dreams thought that her knowledge of knots would ever be put to this kind of use!

“The long whip on the dresser, my mistress - yes, that’s the one. I say ‘Mercy, Mistress’ when you are to stop. You look so stern and strong! When you are ready mistress!”

And so, Gwendoline proceeded to apply the whip to poor mad Mr. O’Toole’s back - a back which bore evidence of having received such treatment many, many times before. She was gentle at first and gradually stepped up the force of her blows, inflicting a crescendo of pain on her host until he cried out for her to stop.

Gwen lowered the whip with some reluctance (she had been really getting into it!) and inspected her work. The back was red all over, but there were no cuts - just a few weals.

“Do I untie you now, Mr. O’Toole?”

“Later my dear. I daresay Mrs. Travers will see to it when she returns later. She knows about my special needs and frequently ministers to them - although never as deliciously as you! Thank you so much. I shall always be grateful to you!”

He explained how he had for many years had a fantasy about being whipped by a naked and strong young blonde who walked into his house one night and how the previous night the yearning had become so strong that he had gone out walking in the rain to calm himself down.

“Imagine my amazement when I saw the woman of my dreams sleeping in the fields near my home in the rain - looking so strong and untamed as if she were some elemental forces of Nature. I knew at that instant that my fantasies had become reality.”

“I’m only too happy to oblige! Don’t take this as a destructive criticism, Mr. O’Toole, but rather as a constructive suggestion, but wouldn’t it have been even better if you had had a large mirror on that wall facing you so that you could have seen me whipping you? I mean that would have been so much nicer for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Upon my soul, my dear - but what a splendid idea! What a fool I must be not to have thought of it before. I’ll have one installed tomorrow and you must come back after you complete your journey and we can have another lovely time together! I’m sure to have been very naughty by then.”

“Be my pleasure. Now I had better see how my friends are - both of them fast asleep I should think. I may take a little nap myself! It’s been a delightful time - but tiring!”

Gwendoline pulled the attic door to and began to go downstairs. She had to pause at one point and sit on the staircase, too helpless with laughter to continue. She sat for several minutes with tears running down her cheeks at the memory of that ludicrous scene in which she had played such an active role!

Finally, she recovered sufficiently to complete her return to the ground floor and was about to rejoin her friends, still sound asleep, when the front door opened and in walked a woman who must be the famous Mrs. Travers - housekeeper cum dominatrix. This good lady took in the sight of a flushed, perspiring and naked blonde goddess standing in the hallway with remarkable equanimity as though such appearances were a daily occurrence in the O’Toole home.

“Are you a natural blonde, young lady?” asked this woman calmly. “Unusual for a real blonde to have a dark bush - not unknown, but unusual.”

Gwendoline assured Mrs. Travers of her bona fides and the lady smiled.

“I take it you have been ‘servicing’ my employer! I’m sure you did an excellent job - my word, but you are a strong one!”

“Yes, I left him tied up. He said you would come to see to him.”

“Oh. I’ll ‘see to’ him alright, young lady - and how! I’m not good enough for him any more - EH!! I’ll see to him all right!”

With these words the good lady ascended the stairs with remarkable agility for one of her bulks and the sounds of renewed chastisement of the naughty Mr. O’Toole could soon be heard. It did not continue long - to Gwen’s relief, the poor chap had already had more than enough!

She rejoined Jessica and Harriet, who were still fast asleep and looking the picture of innocence and sweetness, despite their nudity and wild unkempt looks. She took an armchair and soon sank into a deep sleep herself.

She was dreaming that Mrs. Travers had tied her to the iron rings and was about to commence whipping her. There was a mirror on the wall facing her so that she could see the anticipatory fear mixed with excitement on her face as a leather clad housekeeper raised a fearsome whip in the air, when she was awakened by a discreet cough.

Gwendoline awoke to see a smartly dressed Mr. O’Toole and a smiling Mrs. Travers standing in the doorway.

“Lunch will be served in the dining room in exactly one hour. I hope your young people have had a good sleep.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Travers - lovely. I was having such a nice dream - you woke me just as it was getting really interesting!”

“You seem to double up as a ‘bottom’ young lady” said the housekeeper as she caught sight of Gwendoline’s still scarred back. Unusual - very. I’d have taken you for a confirmed ‘top’!”

“Sorry, but I’m not with you,” said a puzzled Gwen.

“Obviously you are not a professional or you’d know what I meant. Who did that to your back?”

Gwendoline explained. Mrs. Travers disappeared and returned with a box from which she produced various ointments and other fluids. She bid Gwen lean over the arms of the chair and began to apply various things to her back. She told her to get up after a few minutes and instructed her only to lie on her front for the next twenty-four hours.

“It’s not healing as well as it should be my dear. You’ve been having too rough a time out in the open all day and every day - you don’t want to keep those marks for the rest of your life. Not a lovely girl like you - that would be a crime against humanity!”

Gwendoline thanked the housekeeper. Such kindness and from such an unexpected quarter.

“Mr. O’Toole was tickled pink meeting you, my dear! He’s looking twenty years younger today! You’ve really done him a power of good!”

Gwen had to fight very hard to suppress her amusement at the notion that whipping could ever be therapeutic! She was able to say with a straight face that she was pleased to have been able to repay his kindness to them in this way.

Mrs. Travers and her employer left the girls to their own devices before lunch and Gwendoline woke them up. To their question about what Mr. O’Toole had wanted of her she replied by suggesting a pre-lunch walk, even though the weather was getting worse by this time and the rain was falling in sheets.

Despite their reluctance to exchange the cosines of the house for the merciless rain which the wind drove into their unprotected bodies turning them red in seconds, they submitted to Gwendoline’s bidding as ever nowadays and she explained what had happened in the attic. It was a while before the other two were able to stop laughing. Finally, Harriet spoke.

“I was saying to Jessie yesterday that you had a sadistic streak - now, I’m sure! And now can we get back indoors - please Mistress Gwendoline?”

“Yes, I suppose we’d better get back or we’ll never be dry in time for lunch,” said Gwen. “Pity, though. I’m getting totally pissed off with all this comfort even after a few hours. I just can’t wait to get back to normal!”

Mrs. Travers tut-tutted over Gwendoline’s back and reapplied the preparations which the rain had partly washed off her.

“I know you’re an extremely brave young woman, but you MUST give that back a chance for the next day or two - you really must!”

Mr. O’Toole nodded his agreement and observed that it was a monstrous thing to have marred such loveliness - to say nothing of the agony she must have suffered.

“I’d like to take a whip to that scoundrel myself,” he concluded.

“No need for that, Mr. O’Toole - Gwendoline pretty well flayed him alive once we turned the tables on him - thanks to our arsonist friend here!”

Over lunch Gwen mentioned her dream about Mrs. Travers being about to whip her and that good lady vigorously protested her total refusal to lay so much as a finger on her even if paid by Gwendoline to do so.

“I only do it for John here as a favor now and again - except this morning when I confess to having been just a little jealous and put out!”

The girls went outside again after lunch and walked over the neighboring and deserted hills for a few hours before returning for dinner. Mrs. Travers again reproached Gwen and applied more stuff to her back.

The evening was passed playing a variety of parlor games and they all retired to bed at midnight. Gwendoline was given the best guest room and the other girls shared the other. With some qualms in this eccentric household Gwen submitted to having her hands tied to the bed posts so that she would not inadvertently turn over on to her back in her sleep.

“You should be well on the mend by morning, but give it another day and night to make sure, my dear,” were Mrs. Travers’s parting words as she turned off the light and gently closed the door, leaving Gwendoline to enjoy her first comfortable night in quite a while.

Gwen woke early the next morning and panicked as she realized that both her hands were tied to the bedposts. As she became wider awake, she remembered how Mrs. Travers had urged this on her as a way of preventing her lying on her still sore back and her fear subsided. All she had to do was wait until someone came to free her. She drifted back to sleep.

When she awoke next the sun was shining through the window and Mrs. Travers was untying the bonds.

“For your own good I should really leave you here all-day Lady Gwendoline - that would stop all your nonsense of tramping around in the rain, but it is a lovely day and I think you can go out, and force those poor friends of yours to suffer with you!”

“How do you know who I am?”

“I have a good memory as well as you my dear.”

Mrs. Travers did not enlarge on this somewhat cryptic reply and Gwendoline made her way to the en-suite bathroom. As she sat on the toilet, she reflected on the many places whose fertility they had all enriched over the last weeks and reveled in the luxury of civilized amenities once again - she still hoped to be back in the open before long, but recognized the good sense of Mrs. Travers in urging her to give herself time to heal properly.

Her back to the mirror and using a small hand mirror she inspected the damage for the first time since the visit to Francesca. What she saw caused her to gasp with horror and any doubts about the good housekeeper’s advice were immediately banished. There were several deep cuts which were as inflamed and weeping as they had been the last time, she had seen them - it was not a pretty sight at all.

Quickly finishing her toilette, she sought out Mrs. Travers and asked her how her injuries looked compared to yesterday.

“A lot better my dear. The infection has almost gone and the cuts will start to heal naturally in a day or so. You just haven’t been giving yourself a chance these last few days - you are a wonderful young lady but you’re still only flesh and blood. I’m so glad I had a chance to get to you with my herbal remedies in time - you’ll be good as new in a week. You must have been in a terrible lot of pain ever since this happened to you - admit it!”

Gwendoline nodded. “Yes, I’ve just ignored it and forced myself to keep going - Lord knows why! I mean it’s only a silly dare when you come to think about it and not even my idea in the first place.”

“Oh, come off it, Lady Gwendoline - you know it’s a splendid idea! And full marks to you for keeping your friends up to the mark, when they were ready to give up. And remember dear, tomorrow you will be right as rain!”

“Is there anywhere we can go for a swim around here? We used a reservoir the day before yesterday and could make it there and back today - or would that be bad for my back?”

“I’d advise you to give it a rest for today, Gwendoline my love - I really would!”

“OK - but the other two haven’t anything wrong with them - I’ll take them out and make sure they get their dip!”

And Gwen escorted Harriet and Jessica to the lake that Mrs. Travers had told her about. She stood over them and made sure they stayed in until they were so cold, they could scarcely struggle out of the water. She looked on as they exercised in the usual way to get warmed up, feeling awfully left out. Only the thought of the awful possibility of her scars being there for life caused her to obey Mrs. Travers’s advice and leave her friends to wrestle without her.

“I’m really glad you’ve decided to give yourself a break, Gwen,” said Jessica on the way back to the house. “I was getting so worried about you this last day or two - it’s amazing how quickly that back is healing now you’re being sensible at last and after what she put onto it - she must be some kind of magician!”

“And to think I had a dream in which I was tied up in the attic and she was about to start whipping me - and really she couldn’t have been kinder to me if I had been her own daughter! Funny thing - but I was kind of excited as well as frightened in the dream - quite sorry to wake up. I was starting to go wet!”

“I hope your experience hasn’t turned you funny, my dear old thing!”

“We never know where life is leading my lovely dark mysterious Jessica. The wilder shores of love and all that!”

“I can always tell Andy it’s all off my darling! Just say the word and I’ll never desert you again!”

And Jessica put her arms around Gwendoline’s neck and kissed her on the mouth for the first time in days. Gwen felt herself sinking into a delicious sweet ecstasy of which an orgasm was the only culmination. It was such glorious bliss to feel her lover’s body pushed against hers with such passion once more!

“No, Jessica - it’s over that way between us and should never have started in the first place. I loved it all and I won’t ever be sorry - but I have to pass on my title when I inherit it, and I will need a husband to do that! And he - whoever he is - will get all of me - nothing held back! And Andy loves you to distraction - I can tell that, my darling. I could see it in his face the first day we all met. It would kill him to lose you now - you mustn’t even think about it!”

“Come on you two - I’m hungry and lunch is in twenty minutes. Make up your bloody minds and let’s get going! Gwen’s right you know, Jessica! Smart-arced bitch she’s always fucking right! Doesn’t it make you mad?”

They continued back to the house in silence - Gwen and Jessica held hands but avoided each other’s eyes.

After an early dinner, John O’Toole prepared to drive the trio over to his friend’s house. Before leaving, Gwen put her arms around Mrs. Travers and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks for everything - I’ll never forget what you did for me.

“My pleasure my dear - by the way.” A conspiratorial look came over the housekeeper’s face and she drew Gwen to her and whispered. “That dream! You looked pretty hot to me when you woke up! Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this but I have a kind of whip that is designed not to cut the skin. It needs to be done by an expert - but I am the best! Hurts like hell, I can promise you that! But no broken skin - just a few bruises. You know how to contact me - any time!”

“Maybe - I don’t know. I mean - it excites me a lot, but I really don’t know!”

And Gwendoline followed her friends out to the car. She was about to get in, when she turned back to Mrs. Travers and called out, “Hell - yes!! I can’t bloody wait!! I’ll be in touch! Get plenty of exercise and build up those muscles just for me!”

“What was all that about, darling,” asked a puzzled Harriet. Jessica didn’t need to ask. She knew! Poor old Gwen, she’d finally flipped!

John O’Toole’s friend was almost normal. He could not have been completely so to have accepted the presence of three naked and very attractive eighteen-year-old girls in his house as though it were an everyday happening, but he made no demands for the kind of “Special Service” that Lady Gwendoline had provided for his buddy.

They all spent a stimulating evening discussing everything from world affairs to the latest West End shows and the time passed quickly until it was past midnight.

This time Gwendoline shared a room with Jessica and Harriet had a small adjoining room.

“Darling Gwen - you surely CAN’T want to be beaten again after that horrible three days. Please try to be sensible.”

“She, told me she can do it without causing permanent marks and I was attracted - I can’t begin to tell you how it made me feel! I imagined the sound of it cracking down onto my skin and I could feel the gooseflesh all over my body - I shall have to try it out! I know it sounds hateful to you, but as I said to her, I can’t wait!”

“It’s my fault darling. I let you down at that awful house causing you to take that dreadful beating, and then I left you for Andy! And it’s all started you on this path. You must promise me to fight it, my sweet dear friend! It’s so horribly sick! PLEASE!”

Gwendoline fell asleep with her best friend’s tearful pleas ringing in her ears and she dreamt of nice normal things that night.

“I’ve been out of my mind these last few days - how you’ve put up with me I can’t imagine. Shall we go back to how it was?” asked Gwendoline next morning as they set out once more to continue on their walk to Northumberland.

“Rubbish, Gwendoline! We’d be lost without you! Don’t back out on us now! It’s only been you that’s kept us going this far. And it’s only you can get us through to the end. Don’t let us down Gwen!”

Gwendoline lowered her head and tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be in charge anymore! I was so fucking mad when we disarmed Richard - I didn’t know myself - but I’m plain old me again now.”

“You’ll never be that again - like it or not Gwendoline you’re the leader and we need you. We’d never have made it as far as this if it hadn’t been for you driving us on! Don’t fail us now!” Harriet was almost in tears as she embraced Gwen.

“What about Jessica?”

“Same here my old darling! I remember shielding you from the rain and keeping you warm every night earlier on when you seemed to be the weaker one, but that was then and this is now. You’ve grown these last few days and we really do need you - so snap out of it - don’t let us down!”

Gwendoline looked utterly unconvinced by her friends’ protestations and sank squatting on the ground, looking pensive.

“Sorry girls, but the fire seems to have gone out.”

Jessica spoke, “OK, Gwendoline. I know exactly what the trouble is and I take back what I said last night - you go back to that house when all this is over and let that woman whip you senseless if that’s what you really want. I still say it’s weird and not nice and not the Gwendoline I used to know so well, but I’ll always love you whatever happens. Nothing will ever stop you being my first and best friend. If it turns you on that much, then go for it by all means - just don’t ask me to come and watch!”

Gwendoline cheered up at this and quickly resumed her familiar decisive manner.

“Thanks for that Jessica. I know you don’t understand and why should you? I don’t completely myself. But this thing really has turned me on so much! - Part of me is absolutely shit scared at the idea and the other half is incredibly excited - it’s like nothing I’ve ever known in my life before! My stomach churns whenever I think about it! It’d only be just the once, I’m sure of that, but I’ll never be satisfied until I know just how far I can go with it. I’ll tell Mrs. Travers in advance not to stop until she’s exhausted no matter how much I plead with her to!”

The matter was never again discussed by the three girls, but Gwendoline did return to John O’Toole’s house and after she had undressed completely and given him his promised repeat beating (with the mirror now in place) she submitted her naked, weather-beaten body to Mrs. Travers’s tender mercies. That good lady was as good as her word, not breaking Gwendoline’s skin, but inflicting such pain as she had never known before in her life, only stopping when too exhausted to carry on. Gwen thanked her profusely afterwards, paid her handsomely and drove away with her bruised back tingling pleasantly - never to see the odd couple again and never to feel another masochistic urge as long as she lived. But she treasured the memory to her dying day. She had proved something to herself, although she was never sure exactly what!

“I suppose you realize we are now into November - just over three weeks to get to our goal. I won’t explain why just yet, but we don’t need to worry too much about completing a quota of miles every day - I’ve worked everything out, so don’t ask questions - trust me!”

“I wonder how easy it would be for someone to climb to the top of that hill like we are - no climbing boots, no gear - what do you say, girls?”

“It looks awfully stony and very steep. Do you think our feet would be up to it, Gwen? I know we’ve got pretty hardened up down there but we usually stick to grass when we can and that looks pretty formidable,” was Jessica’s opinion.

“I doubt we could do it, Gwendoline,” said Harriet. “I’ve been barefoot most of my life, as you know, and it would tax me to the limit - best forget the idea.”

“Just think of the glorious view from the top, though! If you two can’t face it then wait down here. I’ll see you later!”

And Gwendoline started climbing up the scree slope of a fair sized and barren mountain side, sliding back down a yard for every two she made upwards. She was soon just a tiny moving dot as she climbed ever higher, making faster progress as the going became firmer and she got clear of all the fallen rocks and the hill became grassier.

“Oh! Come on, Harriet - we can’t keep on letting her get all the glory and she might hurt herself and need our help.”

They did not catch up with Gwendoline until they reached the top, where as their leader had said, the view was breathtaking.

“Glad you came?”

Both girls agreed it had been worth it, even at the expense of grazes and cuts galore to knees, elbows and feet.

“Look at my little toe, Gwendoline - it’s absolutely raw. If I get gangrene, I’ll sue you!” said Harriet as she leant back and recovered her breath. All three were sweating, despite the cold, altitude and strong east wind.

“Do you think going down will be easier, Gwen?” asked Jessica.

“In some ways, but we’ll collect a few more abrasions when we hit the scree again - bound to - unless there’s an easier way - you know a gentler slope on the other side.”

There was indeed an easier way down, but they were horrified to see a party of intrepid walkers climbing up it.

“Looks like the hard way down - shit!” said Jessica and Harriet agreed.

“Rubbish - I’m not having you two hurt any more - at least not today! I think we should brighten up these people’s dull boring old lives. Just think what sad types they must be - nothing better to do than walking around the Pennies in this terrible cold! Let’s go and give them a treat!”

“Good morning, all - nice day we’re having,” said Gwendoline cheerily to the five walkers.

“Ay lass! `Tis a rete champion day and all the better now Have clapped eyes on thee! Thach’s a sight for sore eyes and new mistake! And thy two mates! What say you lot?”

His companions seemed to differ, the male ones enthusiastically taking one side and the two ladies seeming somewhat uncertain as to their reaction to the sight of three naked ladies striding down the hillside - one of them a striking blonde beauty whose long golden hair streamed behind her in the wind - just the sort of girl to capture men’s hearts with effortless ease!

“Why are you all undressed in this weather - to say nothing of common decency - have you all no shame?” asked one of the ladies - a hatchet-faced middle-aged person.

“You mean I should be ashamed of the body the good Lord gave me? Not on your life! - I’ve never been prouder of it than these last weeks - you should try it yourself! - no disrespect and all that,” said a defiant Gwendoline, backed up by vigorous nods from the other two.