Chapter 22

As they drove up the castle drive, the Duke felt a sense of impending loss. Although he had certainly been teasing Doug and Karla, the memory of the previous night with the beautiful girl had never left his mind. He realized how incredibly bright, vibrant and loving she really was. While he had been living with the loss of his wife, Claire, for over 50 years, it was only when Karla had come to him that he realized what he had been missing for so long. And, he realized, had it not been for his restored physical condition, nothing could have happened anyway. But now what? he thought.

They were starting to unload the cars — the girls had brought another big load of supplies from the plane — when a BMW sport coupe came up the driveway and stopped. The driver’s door opened and a woman got out. Donald’s eyes narrowed as he realized she was moving very stiffly. She was wearing a navy duffel coat which seemed too big for her. Her legs were bare, and remarkable for the time of year, her feet were, too. When she turned her face toward him, Donald realized that she was a truly beautiful woman, about five feet eight inches tall, with sandy blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. She was too far away from him, though, to see more.

Looking around, the woman picked out Barb and padded up to her, seemingly oblivious to the sharp gravel she was walking on. “Mrs. Sloan?” she said. When Barb acknowledged the greeting, she said simply, “I am Marion Walker. Paula Wilhelm sent me.”

Barb took the woman’s hands in hers and looked into her eyes. The woman just looked back without flinching. Then she apologized saying, “I would have been here earlier, but I was delayed. I apologize.”

“No apologies are necessary. Why don’t we go inside? But why aren’t you wearing any shoes? Aren’t your feet cold.”

“No, ma’am, they’re not,” the girl replied without further explanation, but she followed them inside to the library. Again, Monroe had laid a fire which was burning brightly. The girl moved close to warm her feet on the hearth.

“Would you like a Scotch?” Barb asked kindly. When the girl smiled her acceptance, Barb ordered drinks for everyone. When he returned she asked, “Would you leave us in private, please, Monroe?”

The butler already knew from the Duke that these people were to be considered members of his immediate family. Any order from any of them was to be treated as if it was from the Duke himself. “Of course, ma’am,” he replied softly. “I will see that you’re not disturbed...” But then he asked, “Duke?”

“He’s different, Monroe,” Barb replied with a warm smile. “If you should see him, please send him right in.” Then with a grin she added, “He’s a wonderful foot warmer on a raw day. And I think Miss Walker could use him right now.”

A moment later, Duke paced into the room. Marion’s eyes widened in fear as she saw the Bengal tiger, but then he went up to Karla who petted him and instantly started him purring. “My lord!” she exclaimed, “he’s behaving like a house cat! But he is a Royal Bengal tiger, isn’t he?”

“Duke, I would like you to meet a new but already very dear friend, Marion Walker,” Karla said. “Now will you go over and say hello?”

Marion could feel her body shaking in spite of her effort to remain still.

The great cat came up to her, then sat in front of her like a house cat, raised his paw and said, “Good afternoon, Miss Walker. My name is Duke, and I’m very happy to meet you.” With that he extended his right paw toward her.

“Good afternoon, Duke,” she said in a lovely melodious voice. “I’m very glad to meet you, too. And I do hope you will be my friend, because heaven knows I would never want you to be my enemy!”

Seeing that her feet were bare, but she was still wearing an outer coat, he asked, “Wouldn’t you like to warm your feet, Miss Walker? Queen Karla does it all the time. She particularly loves to rub her feet in my soft under fur. Would you like to try?”

“I would love to, Duke,” the girl replied, “but not right now.”

With that exchange everyone knew all he or she needed to know about the girl’s inner purity. They knew that the only people with whom he could directly communicate were those with pure souls.

Marion was now standing with her back to the fireplace. The time had come, so she swallowed hard and drew herself up straight, ignoring the pain when she did. Turning to Donald she said, “Your Grace, I am here as your new cook and housekeeper.” His eyes widened and he was about to protest, but she continued, “Actually, I am your body slave. I exist, Your Grace, only to serve you in all things. I belong to you and everything I own is now yours, also.”

Utterly incredulous, Donald was about to object but she continued, “Before you say anything, Your Grace, there’s something you must know. You see, sir, I am a prostitute.” She grinned wryly and added, “I guess I was more politely referred to as a call girl. But that refers only to the prices I charged, not to what I did.”

Still standing straight she said, “I suppose it’s what one gets when one receives one’s degree from Cambridge in philosophy.”

With a real grin now she interjected, “I can philosophize with the best of them, for whatever good that might be. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything else — except fuck. And since men liked fucking me, and I couldn’t find anything else to do, I became a prostitute. Since I have nice tits, okay legs, and a decent face, men paid me. In fact, they paid me quite a lot. Because there was another thing I featured: I would do absolutely anything with anyone — or ones — if the price was right. Oh! And the price was always paid in cash, in advance.”

Then she laughed bitterly and continued, “Do you know what the highest paid occupation in the entire United Kingdom is?” When he shook his head, she answered her own question. “It’s being a prostitute. You see, there’s a little-known element of puritanism in our government. It began years ago — no one seems to know just when. As you all know, our marginal tax rates are very high. But prostitutes earn very good money and pay taxes ... or used to.

“Formerly, a girl would declare her occupation as ‘model’ or ‘seamstress’ or ‘companion,’ or some such. But then one time a girl put down her occupation as ‘prostitute’ and sent in her check for her taxes. Apparently there was a series of meetings that ultimately reached the cabinet level. The result of it all was Inland Revenue returned her check uncashed some months later.

“The word spread, and it has worked like that ever since. I calculate my taxes, write a check, and mail my return. A few weeks later, the check is returned in an Inland Revenue envelope without comment. To the government, mine are the wages of sin and they don’t want any part of them. As a result, I am a rich woman. Or I am until I sign everything over to you, sir.”

Now looking beseechingly at Donald she said, “Your Grace, one reason I was late was I stopped by the Health Department for this.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a health certificate that certified that she was free of all communicable diseases including specifically all known sexually transmitted diseases and HIV.

Donald looked at it quickly and then said, “You obviously did something else, Miss Walker. You can communicate with Duke. The only people who can are those whose souls are pure. On that point, he cannot miss. So you obviously cleansed your soul. But why? And why do you want to work for me, of all things. And how did you know I needed a cook?”

“It was Mrs. Sloan and her friend, Paula Wilhelm.” Then she explained how she had encountered Paula several months earlier when the Czech girl had been researching prostitutes. “As luck would have it, I was in Prague visiting a girl I had met in London, when Paula came over. I got her phone number and called her later. She came up to my room and I gave her a few tips. At the time she hadn’t fully recovered from her beating, but she was a beautiful girl. Anyway, yesterday I got a call from Paula telling me about your cook’s leaving. She knew from our time in Prague that I was a good cook and had come to detest prostitution and detest myself. She suggested I come up and apply for the job, using as a reference Mrs. Sloan ... Oops! I almost forgot.”

With that the girl dropped to her knees in front of Barb, lifted her left shoe and licked its sole. Then she licked the top and used her hair to polish it. Barbara was utterly stunned when she did it, and then repeated it with her right one. Raising her body, she sat back on her heels and said, “That’s my last task. Paula paid me for it in advance when she told me about the position here. She said you would know that I am the girl she sent and would vouch for me to His Grace. I guess it’s what she did the first day, wasn’t it? When she was trying to persuade you to take her into your service?”

“Yes, it was,” Barb admitted. “But what’s wrong with you, Marion? You’re moving very strangely. You’re in great pain, aren’t you?”

“No, ma’am, of course not...”

“Take off that coat right now!” Barb commanded.

“But...”

“Now!” Barb repeated.

The girl went to shrug off the coat, but it didn’t work. Instead, she closed her eyes and seemed to be peeling it off her body. In fact, that was exactly what was happening. After peeling it off her right shoulder and her back, she began to repeat the process on her left side.

Karla was the first to see the blood covering her back and gasped, “My God! What happened to you?”

Instead of answering, Marion just tore the coat off her left shoulder. But instead of letting it drop to the floor, she wrapped it around her legs on the floor. The reason was immediately apparent. She had been mercilessly beaten from her shoulders to her knees. Moreover, her duffel coat, unlike many of its type, was both very coarse-fibered and unlined. The fibers had embedded themselves, particularly in her back and her buns on which she had been sitting and leaning back while driving up from London.

“Marion Walker, did you drive all the way up here from London like that? With your back and buns torn to shreds, you leaned back against the seat? You must have been in agony the whole way!” Karla exclaimed. Then she added, “I’m something of an expert on the receiving end of torture. But how could you do it?”

“It served to keep me awake,” the girl replied simply. “And I’m sorry. It’s the primary reason I’m late. You see, there was a customer of mine who has been wanting to whip me for years. I called him and told him he could whip me to his heart’s content for £10,000. So he did.” Then digging around at her side, she found the other side pocket of her coat, withdrew a fat roll of currency, reached over and gave it to Donald saying, “Master, this is now yours.”

“But you said it delayed you. How?” Karla persisted.

“I guess he really got carried away,” Marion replied softly. “I passed out during the whipping of course, but he kept whipping me until he got tired. But when he realized what an incredible mess he had made of my body, he left. When I came to, I was still tied to the ceiling. It took a lot longer than I thought it would to get down.” Then she gracefully rose from the carpet, lifted her coat and kept it wrapped loosely around her knees to absorb her dripping blood.

Kneeling again before the Duke she cupped her bleeding breasts in her hands and said, “These are my tits, Master. Please squeeze them? I know they’re not nearly firm enough yet, but do you like their shape? Are my nipples hard enough for you? Please tell me.”

Almost in spite of himself Donald found himself reaching out to her terribly lacerated breasts. As gently as he could he cupped them and found them perfect.

“You haven’t pinched my nipples yet, Master,” she insisted. When he did she involuntarily gasped in pain. Both had been sliced through. “I’m so sorry, Master!” she exclaimed.

“But why? Why did you do this?” Donald asked, utterly bewildered.

“So that you wouldn’t have to, Master. Paula explained how vital to the whole process the introductory whipping really is. But I also know Mrs. Sloan won’t touch a whip again. Her Majesty, Queen Karla, wouldn’t either, nor would the Earl.”

Looking at Doug she said, “Of course you and your grandfather would have caused me great problems anyway.”

“How’s that?” Doug asked, puzzled.

“Because, sir, I always fucked Victoria Cross winners at no charge. I knew that His Grace, the Duke had one of course, but then driving up here today I heard on the radio that Her Majesty awarded one to you today, too. Perhaps you would like to take me together? It would be a first for me. Two Victoria Cross winners at one time.”

With a happy grin that remarkably wasn’t forced, she added, “You two would have had me broke in no time.”

“But why, Marion?” the Duke asked. “Why would a Cambridge graduate ever want to be my cook, for heaven’s sake?”

“Since I don’t like myself — hate myself would be more accurate, though — I learned to cook. Every once in a while I would prepare a feast for two — and throw out the second serving. I would pretend that a man had come to love me and I was serving a dinner containing all the love I possessed.” Smiling wryly she added, “Of course, all the love I possess isn’t very much.”

When he again looked into her eyes he could see her pleading for acceptance as she continued, “Everything about this situation is perfect for me. It’s in the far North of England. No one comes here. And if I never again see the sleazes with whom I associated in London, it would be too soon.”

Then she knelt up straight with her terribly lacerated ass cheeks resting on her ankles and added, “But there’s more, sir. It’s specific to you. Do you remember a William Walker? He was in your fighter squadron in 1940 and ‘41.”

Privately, Donald again thanked God for his blessings of the previous day, one of which was the restoration of his very sharp memory. He brightened as he remembered. “About six feet tall, sandy hair and blue eyes...” Looking at the woman he said, “Exactly like yours. Your grandfather?”

“Yes, sir. He was. He died only last year, and I was the executor of his estate.” She laughed bitterly and added, “Can you imagine anything worse than having a prostitute act as the executor of a hero’s estate?” She shook her head and continued, “But during the process I went through his private papers, including the diaries he kept during the war.”

Looking into Donald’s eyes with her eyes now a piercing blue she said, “You saved my grandfather’s life no less than three separate times. He recorded each event in great detail. Using my academic training in research, I checked out his record against now-declassified official records and found that his record was precisely accurate. Had it not been for your heroism, sir, I could never have been born. Now maybe, in retrospect, that would have been a good thing, too, but I was. Since I owe my very existence to you, Your Grace, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your servant.”

“But I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why the beating? It certainly wasn’t for the money, was it?”

“No, sir, it wasn’t for the money, it was for the purification of my soul. As I said, Paula explained how the whipping was an essential ingredient in the cleansing process.”

The Duke was utterly bewildered. He tried to argue with her, but she just shook off any argument. When he offered her £500 per week, she just laughed. At that point he looked around at the others who just shook their heads. They had no ideas.

But then Barbara took over. “Slave Marion, what is a slave’s first duty?”

Turning toward Barbara, the girl just looked as bewildered as the Duke had been. “I don’t know, Mistress. What is a slave’s first duty?”

“And a Cambridge graduate!” Barb exclaimed. “Good grief! Didn’t they teach you anything?” She laughed when the girl just shook her head with a lovely smile on her face. “A slave’s first and most important duty is to do those things that make her master happy. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Marion replied softly. “I understand.”

“Good!” Barb exclaimed. “Now let me try to make it simple enough for even a slave to understand. The idea of taking your money is making your new master very unhappy. The idea of your not taking his £500 per week also makes him unhappy. Now, Slave! Listen up and answer carefully. How are you going to satisfy the slave’s first duty?”

“By keeping my own money and taking his?” Marion replied skeptically.

“Exactly!” Barb exclaimed.

Marion cocked her head and appeared to be thinking. Then she said, “I will do it on one condition: that I be paid for sexual services. This way I can continue to file my tax return showing my occupation as ‘prostitute.’ I hate taxes!”

“Oh, all right,” Barb agreed reluctantly. “If you really insist.”

Then to Donald she said, “It just goes to show you ... My friends used to claim, when I was a slave, that Royal Navy blockade or no, the quality of available slaves just had to improve. They looked at me and felt I was the absolute bottom of the barrel. And you know what? They were absolutely right! Donald, I think your new slave may make it. She shows comprehension of simple words and phrases already!”

At that, Marion jumped to her feet and, with the duffel coat still around her knees, hobbled over to Barb. Kneeling before her, she reached out, took Barb’s face between her hands, tipped it, and then melted her lips to hers. Both girls were shocked. Marion, because she felt an immediate flow of the purest love, along with joy and sanctifying grace. And Barbara, because of the girl’s incredible love and grace.

When their lips parted, Marion’s eyes were glazed. “My God!” she murmured. “Paula was so incredibly right! She said that the whipping was a vital part of this whole thing. There is an element of purification to it, isn’t there?”

Then the girl dropped to her knees and let her head fall to her thighs as she began to bawl like a baby. All the others except for the Duke had a good idea what was going on. When she finally raised her head her eyes were shining. “Almighty God, in His infinite mercy, really did forgive me my sins, didn’t He?”

“Yes, Darling, He did,” Barb responded softly. “But I told you that earlier. You see, Marion, Duke, here, is truly an agent of the Holy Spirit — God Almighty in His Third Person. When he spoke to you, I knew your soul was as pure as the new-fallen snow.”

“Barb, can you do something for this poor woman?” the Duke asked. “I’ll do anything for you if...”

“You won’t do a damned thing, Donald Whitfield!” Barb exclaimed. “But maybe I can possibly...” Then looking up she called, “Susie Sloan, where in hell are you? Get your trim little ass down here this instant!”

“I beg your pardon!” Susie exclaimed as she instantly materialized in their midst. “I was not in hell!” With that she floated to Barb and the two exchanged loving kisses. This time, as was her usual practice, Susie was naked.

“Your Grace,” Barb said, “I would like to introduce Susan Sloan, Steve’s first wife. Karla received more punishment than anyone I’ve ever heard of who survived. Susie absorbed more punishment than anyone I’ve ever heard of.”

She then told Donald and Marion how Susie’s skin had been flayed off, how her tits had been amputated and roasted, how she had been blinded, and finally, how she died. The two were utterly aghast. With tears in her eyes Barb concluded, “They ordered her to renounce Jesus Christ. She flatly refused. So when she died, she was taken into heaven as a saint and martyr. Subsequently, God elevated Susie to the rank of angel.”

Then to Marion she said, “Can you imagine what I’m in for? When I die, I’ll be sharing Steve with an angel. A real one.”

“Barbara, dear,” Susie interrupted, sounding bored. “Was there some reason for your wild yell, or were you just in need of someone to entertain your friends?”

“Susie, this woman who’s bleeding all over the floor is Marion Walker. She’s been beaten worse than any of us. Can you fix her up a bit? Please?”

“Damn it, Barbara Sloan! Don’t you ever listen? Didn’t you hear the Boss say that He must answer your prayers in the same way that you need to breathe. He wasn’t kidding!”

Saying that she floated over to Marion, held out her hand and said, “Hi, Marion Walker. I’m Susie Sloan, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Marion looked at the beautiful two-foot-tall sprite, reached out her hands and pulled her close. Then she managed to melt their lips together while she poured out all of the love she possessed to this incredible woman who had suffered such agonies. Finally she released her, dropped her head and murmured, “Lord, I am not worthy...”

“You’re plenty worthy enough, Marion Walker! Now hold still and let me fix you up a bit.”

With that the sprite gently ran her delicate fingers over every part of Marion’s lacerated body. Wherever she touched, the pain disappeared and the bleeding stopped instantly. “Now stand up!” Susie ordered. The girl rose from her knees and Susie completed the job. When she got to her pubic hair she said, “You’ve been talking to Paula, haven’t you? When did you do this? Yesterday?”

She had indicated her pubic area on which there was only the same tight patch of dense and wiry pubic hair the other girls had. Marion nodded, so Susie gently stroked the area erasing the agonizing pain she was still feeling there.

Then she said, “You haven’t told the others, Marion, but the Boss almost cried when you told him about your plans. Ordinarily, we’re not too big on birth control.”

Turning to the others Susie said, “Do you know what this girl did? At first she was hoping to carry the Duke’s child. But then she remembered that, as the son of the duke, he would inherit, not Doug, his grandson. Then she thought of bearing your children, Your Grace, but putting them out for adoption. She rejected that as being unfair to the child. So, while kneeling on the floor with blood still pouring from these terrible wounds, she asked the Boss for permission to continue to use birth-control pills.”

Gently kissing the girl on the lips, she said, “Marion, it’s all right. The Boss has given you permission. But He does have one question.”

“One question?” the girl asked incredulously. “God Himself has a question for me?”

“Two, actually,” Susie answered casually. “First, when is He going to see you naked? He loves watching Barb, Karla, and the girls, by the way. You are in their class, too. And the way you are now, with blood covering everything like a red dress, doesn’t count. The second? He’s going to put you back with them. I thought you should know.”

“‘Back with them’? I don’t understand,” the girl said.

Without answering, Susie floated over to Donald and said, “Good evening, Your Grace. The Boss sends his congratulations on the events at the Palace today. You looked simply marvelous! He was delighted. And, sir, Karla was absolutely right last night when she went down on you. Karl Kosta was laughing so hard he couldn’t say a single word! He asked me to tell you that his granddaughter picked up where he left off — saving your ass!”

Then she grinned and added, “And it should go without saying that he’s utterly ecstatic at the thought of his granddaughter and your grandson marrying! After thinking about it a bit, he’s decided that Doug is worthy enough to be her husband. And he’s a pretty tough guy to please, believe me!”

Having seen what Marion did, he took the sprite in his arms and melted his lips to hers. The sensation was like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. It was as if years of age were melting away. When they finally parted he said, “Susie Sloan, what did you just do?”

“Oh ... nothing...” she answered evasively.

“Susan!” the Duke said in his best command voice.

“Well, Your Grace, Marion is a truly lovely woman. And since she’s now twenty-three, I only thought ... I mean ... Really! You’re going to need some stamina, so...”

“Susan Sloan, are you telling me that I am supposed to ... bed... ? my new housekeeper?”

“Well why the hell — excuse me, Boss, but ‘why the heaven’ still doesn’t make it — do you think she pulled out all her pubic hair? For the fun of it? Donald Whitfield, let me clue you in. It hurt almost as bad as the whipping she suffered. She did it only for you! And you heard that the Boss approved her use of birth-control pills. What do you suppose they’re for? Are you starting to get a picture?”

Susie snapped her fingers and added, “I almost forgot! Claire was on her knees begging the Boss to go along with this, too.”

Turning to Marion she said, “Claire was Donald’s wife. She was killed on Christmas day, 1940, while working in a London hospital as a volunteer. She could have been — probably should have been — right here in Prendwick Castle where she would have been safe. But with Donald flying constant fighter missions, she felt she needed to do something for the war effort, too. So she went down to London in the middle of the Blitz to care for the wounded from the German raids. She sacrificed her life to help others.

“Now she rejoices in your arrival, Marion. But there are two things: First, she’s going to watch you carefully to see if she can pick up some tips. Second, and this is most important, when you both get up there, she wants him first! Clear?”

“It is very clear!” Marion said clearly. Then, with tears beginning to flow from her eyes she added, “It’s so clear to me that the duke’s first wife is truly an angel. That she would allow me ever to have him is beyond my wildest dreams. Would you please give her my warmest thanks, Susie?”

“No, I won’t. You can do that yourself. Marion, while you were being whipped, she was pleading with the Boss to stop it. Marion Walker, Claire Whitfield loves you very much!” At that point Susie snapped her fingers and looked at the Duke.

“Your Grace, I nearly forgot. Sometimes Brits are pretty thick. Especially where sex is concerned. So let me spell it out for you in words of one syllable: Your wife, Claire, and the Boss both expect you to warm your cock in Marion’s luscious cunt. Okay? Is that clear enough?”

When Donald slowly nodded, she continued, “And to make it even clearer, it was Claire who begged the Boss for this special permission. Donald Whitfield, your wife has been going nuts for over 50 years! When she died, you dug a hole for yourself and pulled it in after you. It was exactly like what my Steve did, but, thank God, it didn’t take me 50 years to get him out!”

Susie cocked her head, thought for a moment and then nodded her head decisively. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “Your wife, Claire, is too much the true lady. I, on the other hand, am a pushy media bitch. Unlike me, she was just too polite to make the pest of herself that I did, so Steve stayed in his hole for only about ten years after I died, rather than 55 in your case.”

Now she floated to within inches of Donald’s face and glared at him. “If it hasn’t fully penetrated yet, Marion Walker is brilliant, witty, athletic, a spectacular cook ... and her bodily fragrance is almost the same as Karla’s. Okay?” Just wait until you kiss this woman! It will be like Karla kissing Doug. Do you understand? The same love, the same joy, the same grace ... and most especially, the same incredible passion. While I wouldn’t care to recommend it as a choice of occupations, because of her years as a prostitute, you will find that your housekeeper has at least 1,001 different ways of making love. Understand!?”

“Yes, Susie,” the Duke replied softly. “I do understand. And Claire,” he said, looking upward, “I promise to take you first!” Then looking at Marion he commanded, “Slave! Come over here, sit on my lap and kiss me.”

“Yes, sire,” Marion replied softly.

Going to him, she sat across his lap marveling as she did that there was no more pain. Then she took his face in her hands and melted her lips to his. Their first kiss was everything Susie had promised and more. As the electricity flowed between them, she could feel his cock rising under his uniform trousers. While their kiss continued, a golden glow appeared over them and enveloped their two bodies. As they eased apart, it dissipated but did not disappear completely.

Before either could say a word, Susie said, “I almost forgot. There will be Marion’s virginal blood all over your bed, too.” Then to Marion she said, “And you thought that was all behind you, didn’t you?” With that, she vaporized.

The others took a few moments to recover. When they did, Karla turned to Barb and said, “Big Sister, how about if you help clean up our new friend, while I start on the saddle of venison à la Duke?”

Motioning Barb to remain seated, Donald rose and said, “I have a better idea. Why don’t you and Steve just enjoy the fire? You look so comfortable sitting on that sofa, and from the way Steve’s hands are groping at air, he wants to get his hands on that incredible body of yours. A nice preprandial fuck, perhaps?”

Turning to Doug he said, “And as for you, Major, I think a tour of KP would be appropriate.” Looking up at the ceiling for a moment, he nodded decisively and repeated, “That’s precisely correct. There’s nothing like a bit of KP following a Victoria Cross award to get a man’s feet back on the ground.”