Chapter 5

Mr Fred Bottomley looked at the Girl and his jaw dropped! He had just returned to the Castle for the weekend. It had been a few weeks since he had last seen his wife. She had told him she had now a full complement of servants, having recently employed a maid of all work.

"What are you doing like that, my dear?" he asked the Girl, who had rounded the corner of the castle walls just as the owner got out of his car.

"I am the Mistress's naked Slave, Sir." replied the Girl. "I have been sinful and unclean and this is my punishment - to be naked and gazed at by all who come to this place. Can I help with the luggage, Sir. I am stronger than I look and am used to hard work after a month here!"

Too amazed to say anything, he nodded and the Girl was soon proving the truth of her boast as she lifted two heavy suitcases as if they weighed only a few ounces, carrying them into the Castle, across the drawbridge and into the Great Hall.

"Take them up to the main bedroom, Slave!" ordered Mrs Bottomley as she came out into the hall.

To her husband she said. "I suppose you need to unpack, my love. Keep your hands off the Girl. I know all about Men!"

Fed followed the Girl up the stairs to the main bedchamber, which he shared with his wife whenever he visited the place. He marvelled at the succulent motion of her sweet young buttocks and the swaying of her lithe and wiry trunk as she effortlessly sped up the stairs with her heavy burdens. The golden hair still hung down her back almost to her bottom, delicately brushing the small of her back - those adorable little dimples above the sweetness of her firm and rounded cheeks.

Like the appreciative Fitch a month ago, he felt his hands itch with a burning desire to caress that swelling loveliness. He followed her into the bedchamber and watched as she unpacked his things and hung up all his clothes with a deft expertness that made her seem lovelier to him than ever.

What did you do before you came to work here, my dear?" he asked.

The Girl blushed deeply and bent her head in shame before the Mistress's husband.

"I was a beggar-girl fleeing from bad people who meant me ill. This is a refuge for me and I willingly accept the loss of my clothes and my never-ending routine of hard and back breaking work."

Bottomley blinked at this. This was like no conversation he had ever had in his life. He had never liked this pile of ancient stones and the feeling of menace was getting worse, not better.

"What should I call you, my dear?" he asked in a kindly voice, his hands aching to touch her firm young breasts and equally firm buttocks.

"Oh. I am just 'Girl'" she answered. "Or else, 'Slave'. I prefer 'Girl', although I have no right to express any preferences. I should be beaten for that, I suppose. I am beaten most days, you know. I am very unsatisfactory to the Mistress and the other staff."

"Well, you aren't unsatisfactory to me, my dear Girl." said the infatuated Fred Bottomley. "I would like to help you. I hate to think of you being so dominated by my wife. Please let me help you!"

He had just put his hand affectionately on the Girl's naked shoulder when his wife's fury burst upon the pair like a hurricane.

"Take your hand off her this instant, you weakling! And as for you, Slave - as for you!!"

Dorothy quivered with rage, her mouth dribbled saliva down her chin and her eyes were hard and cold as ice. As soon as she had recovered, she spoke to poor Fred, who just did not recognise this fearsome harridan as his own dear wife.

"She tried to seduce you. She is wicked beyond belief, the ungrateful slut. Take that belt you see lying on the bed and beat her soundly to teach her not to repeat her infamy. Go on - beat her and beat her hard. Don't stop until I return!"

Mr Bottomley, with the look of an automaton, did as he was told and raised the belt over the Girl, bringing it down upon her sweet bottom for what she felt must be the thousandth time that this horrible object had tormented her. Dorothy went out of the room without a backward glance and stood in the corridor for a while, listening to the regular sound of her obedient husband chastising a poor creature he had only minutes before offered to help.

Realising that the Girl still had plenty of work to do before the day was out, and must not have all the strength drained out of her, Dorothy somewhat reluctantly came back before too many blows had landed and ordered Fred to stop.

The Girl slunk out of the room and rubbed her bottom trying thereby to massage some of the pain out of it. Even after all she had endured, the continuing shame was getting no easier to bear and she felt the tears of forming once again and running down her poor lovely face. The door bell rang and she opened the door to see the grocer's boy standing there. A whispered conversation took place and the Girl took the heavy parcel of groceries down to the kitchen, where the ugly and ill-favoured couple took it from her and set her to work cleaning up. She worked hard and avoided any more blows that day.

Fred was relieved when, after a telephone call from his office, he was obliged to return to London to deal with a sudden crisis. As he turned around and saw the castle disappear into the distance he felt a surge of relief. The more he saw of that place, the less he liked it. It seemed to have some horrible power over those who lived in it. His wife had always been a tiresome, nagging woman, but the appalling cruelty she was showing to that sweet young thing was something entirely new. He should have put his foot down - instead he had meekly obeyed Dorothy and beaten the Girl himself - hating what he was doing but powerless to disobey.

He tried to put the incident out of his mind. Soon he would be back in a world where he himself was in charge, something he never had been when Dorothy was around! But she had never had this kind of power over him before - not to the extent of ordering him to hurt an innocent person.

But was she so innocent? This thought came as a bit of consolation. The Girl could simply walk out of the Castle any time. She would have a thousand chances to do so, and yet she chose to stay and accept the regime that Dorothy was subjecting her to - on her own head be it, then! She was obviously of age and not a simpleton!