Chapter 10

If Tori hadn't fallen in love with me, I might have been happy to continue like that for years. She confessed that it took a while for her to realise how much I had come to mean to her. I noticed that she spent more and more time exclusively with me. As often as possible she would sleep with in my bed. She wanted to make love more when David wasn't there. There were presents, always little presents and treats, until I became quite blasé, not so say worried. I, who had wealth enough of my own, had been in a velvet-lined box for several months, but the cosier it became, the more a part of me rebelled, became discontented, wanted something else, something elemental, darker ... something more.

And then came the day when I knew I had to run. Waking one morning with Tori clinging around me, I longed to be free, to be able to go to where I wanted, do what I wanted, alone ... To find that special personal fulfilment that Sarah had given me that I found again, in part at least, in that house in the woods. I was getting everything else I had ever dreamed of, but I certainly wasn't getting it with David and Tori anymore.

I called Margaret from the phone box down the road. I offered her double if I could come straight away. She agreed without comment. If I drove up the A23, fought my way round the North Circular, took the A10 to Cambridge, I could be at Margaret's in four or five hours. I would be at the University Arms by mid-afternoon and ready for her by teatime. She said she would return from the Institute of Criminolgy at 4.30pm.

I ran back to the house, breath harsh and rapid with the addict's excitement. Ignoring Tori's wails of desolation, I grabbed my car keys, and made a break for it.

When I returned late the next day, I hid in my room in the dark. It had been three months since my previous visit, and there were many demons to feed, on both sides. It seemed that her affair with Edie was hitting the rocks. Margaret admitted it only obliquely, but the fierceness off my punishment made the situation clear. My extended spell of gentler sex had built a suppurating need in my soul. Margaret's recent troubles had fed her hunger for my brand of all-out masochism. She had never been so hard on me, spent so long on torturing me inventively to incredible peaks, and apart from the first time, I had never needed it so much. This time, she needed it too. It cost me several hundred pounds, and left me on the floor of the punishment shed, soaked in her pee, barely conscious, but mentally cleansed.

The following day, wearing a long-sleeved roll-neck sweater-dress, I told Tori and David where I had been and what I had done. I couldn't conceal my body from them for long; there were too many marks and bruises to hide completely. In the peace and calmness that always followed a session with Margaret, I tried to explain to them that my sexual needs went way beyond what they gave me so expertly.

"Whatever it is, we can do it ... I can do it ... I'm sure I can ... oh please Jill, I've learned so much from you ... I can learn anything!"

But I knew that sweet Tori couldn't really hurt me, she couldn't whip me, clamp my nipples, drag me around by my hair, piss in my mouth, and foot-fuck me as I grovelled on the floor...

It was then that I knew my experiment with the gentler side of lovemaking had failed, though I didn't give up on it immediately. I was so very fond my lovers. Perhaps if I just distanced myself a little ... I began to hint that I was thinking of moving back to London. Inevitably the conflict sent my tension levels rising to danger level, and it was only a couple weeks before I was itching to go back to Margaret again. Clever Tori understood me too well.

"I want to come with you," she said one morning.

"Where?"

"When you go to see her ... Margaret, I want to come with you. I want to see what she does ... I want to find out if ... if I can do that to you ... Oh Jill, I do love you so much ... I'd do anything!"

I knew it was a bad idea, but it was time Tori saw the truth for herself.

I spoke to Margaret on the phone. She was reluctant to have an observer present, but agreed, for an extra £100.

We hardly spoke on that long drive to Cambridge. I told Tori not to say a word once we were with Margaret, unless she was directly spoken to. We were both nervous, but for different reasons. I have to confess that the thought of Tori watching me being taken to pieces by Margaret was just a bit exciting, but frightening too.

Margaret looked Tori up and down, and her eyes told me that she thought nothing of her; she just wasn't worthy of attention. No desire or capacity for pain and humiliation, therefore of no interest.

I didn't care right then, all I could think of was what Margaret would do this time, how much it would hurt and thrill me, how much it would help and soothe my troubled soul. Perhaps Margaret decided to put on a bit of a show for her audience, but that day, as if building from my previous visit, she took me further into the zone than ever before.

She suspended me by my arms in the middle of the punishment shed, nipple-clamping my tits and linking them with short heavy chain that dragged them down in sweet agony, she attached small rubber-edged clips to my labia, put strings through the little metal loops, and tied them off to my thighs, in such a way that when my legs were parted with a with a spreader bar, my cunt was cruelly pulled open. After scoring my flesh with the tawse and then the old-fashioned cord-thonged cat, she brought out a new whip ... a full-sized bull-whip. I was so terrified I pissed myself where I stood, but I had to find out...