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  • Bellway Ch. 03: Heads and Tails

Bellway Ch. 03: Heads and Tails

Author's Note: All characters are adults, which in this context means they are at least twenty-one years of age.

*****

Dearest Emily,

"I have always maintained," Lady Grey said, pausing to sip tea from a delicate bone china cup, "that a woman of marriageable age" - at which she looked pointedly at me - "must be chaste." Certainly she has given me no choice in the matter. It was only exhaustion that allowed me to sleep at last, having tossed and turned for hours. Waking was no better, for I am tense with a need that cannot be met.

"And yet," Lady Grey continued, "there are skills that a woman should be taught, to prepare her for her marriage bed. I see no point in a bride too terrified of the act to perform it. Such timidity drives men into the arms of harlots who welcome any man for coin." Her lips twisted with distaste.

"It is a paradox!" she cried, with evident frustration. "But you can learn by observation, my dear Susan, even if you cannot do."

"Yes, Lady Grey," I said.

"Once one is past that age, past that blush of youth and innocence that so attracts men..." She sighed. "It seems hardly fair to keep a woman in a permanent state of readiness for an uncertain husband."

She glanced at Charlotte, who looked down at her lap, clearly uncomfortable with this assessment. Not for the first time, I wondered how Lady Grey would react if she learned of our ravishment in the woods.

"Indeed," Lady Grey continued, "so long as one takes care not to conceive, and is suitably discreet, there is much pleasure to be had."

Imagine, dear sister! She has locked me in this accursed suit, and yet talks of pleasure for Charlotte! It's grossly unfair.

"Sir Thomas has expressed a desire to see you in his study," she said to Charlotte, "and perhaps we will find there a suitable punishment."

"Yes, Lady Grey," Charlotte said.

So far she had received none, despite Lady Grey's initial promise. She was instructed to guard me, to ensure I don't yield to temptation and unbuckle my iron corset, and it is her duty to clean and polish it once a day, much like a medieval page tasked with tending her knight's armour.

It is not the iron itself that constricts me - the inner corset of leather and silk does that. The iron plates make a flexible shell, an additional barrier to deny me my own self. It has an aesthetic form and beauty, and I'm torn between admiring myself in it, and hating it for what it is.

Remarkably, it can even be worn beneath a dress. Had you been at breakfast with us this morning, Emily, I doubt you would have suspected a thing! I, however, cannot escape reminder of its cruel grip. I may have chastity forced upon me, but my mind is a harlot's, afflicted with lewd cravings that make my body burn with feverish desire.

Sir Thomas was in his study, out of his bed for the first time in perhaps months. He is so frail he can hardly stand, but his eyes were bright as we entered. A young woman was there also, dressed in a maid's uniform and sat astride the seesaw where I had been the day before. Her skirt hid the wooden cock that must surely have filled her, there being no one to balance the plank. The same cock that had filled me - and how many other women over the years?

"Don't be shy, girl," Lady Grey said to Charlotte, nudging her towards the seesaw. "You know what to do."

Flushed with embarrassment, unhappy no doubt at being ordered to behave thus with an audience, Sir Thomas and Lady Grey watching from either side, Charlotte lifted her skirts and straddled the plank, and for a brief moment as she slipped into position, her intimate region was visible to us all.

I'm ashamed to say I took delight in her humiliation, but imagine my own last night, and again this morning, asking Charlotte to unbuckle the strip between my legs, and having her watch as I squatted over the pot, making sure that I didn't touch myself (as I so ached to do).

"Lie down there," Lady Grey said to me, pointing to the floor behind the chair - the one with hole in it. "On your back," she added, "your head beneath the seat."

I did as instructed, and discovered a pillow there. Feeling quite alarmed, I settled into position, my face beneath that hole, unable to see anything except the ceiling. Certainly I could not see Charlotte, though I could hear the gentle thud-thud as the plank fell on one side or the other.

Suddenly all I could see was Lady Grey's skirts as she settled onto the chair, the skirts sweeping away at the last instant to reveal her most intimate place. And then it was too dark to see anything. Her hair brushed my lips, and the overpowering smell of her made me quite dizzy.

Dearest Emily, I know you say there are many women who enjoy just such an intimacy, but it had never in my wildest dreams occured to me that I might find myself in such a position. Isn't it strange that Charlotte and I were taken against our wills on the journey to Bellway, and two days later we were again being used against our will?

"Lick me!" Lady Grey shouted, her voice muffled by the fabric of the chair. "Lick me," she shouted again when I still hesitated.

And to my eternal shame, I did! I had never more than glimpsed another woman's intimate region, and suddenly I was all but buried in one. Just the smell of her was intoxicating, and it set my own body throbbing with urgent need. I licked her! I expected her to taste horrible, but in fact there was little taste to it. It was the shock of intimacy, and the raw fragrance of her, that made my head spin as I explored the delicate flesh with my tongue, discovering her the way I had discovered myself with my fingers. The gentle folds with the deep pool within, the swollen nubbin of pleasure that I sucked on gently.

The thud-thud of the seesaw continued throughout, faster and faster, accompanied by Charlotte's distinctive wails of enjoyment, and Lady Grey rocked her hips in time, as if seeking to push through the hole completely, and indeed she achieved some success. I wondered if I would ever be able to look her in the eye again, after enjoying such shocking intimacy.

For I did enjoy it! Are you ashamed of me yet, dear sister? Do I not prove myself beyond redemption with every word I write?

When at last I was released from my service beneath the chair, Charlotte and the maid had ridden the seesaw to a mutual climax and sat together on the floor, breathing heavily. "Come here, girl," Lady Grey ordered. "Undress, and bend over here."

Charlotte stood wearily, and seemed uncaring of her audience as she unlaced herself and removed her clothes. She bent over the table as instructed, her face and breasts exposed to Sir Thomas, her behind exposed to the room and the machine that Lady Grey dragged over. "Are you ready for your punishment?"

"Yes, Lady Grey."

This new device was a wheel with leather paddles attached to it. As Lady Grey turned the wheel, the paddles caressed Charlotte's skin. It didn't look like punishment to me, but as the wheel turned faster so the caresses turned into slaps that left rosy marks in Charlotte's flesh. Faster still she turned it, the paddles making sharp cracks as they landed on poor Charlotte's thighs and rear.

Charlotte wailed beneath the assault, her cheeks wet with tears, and just as I was sure she could endure no more, Lady Grey stopped the wheel and tugged the machine away again.

Oh Emily. Poor Charlotte! You would think this was punishment enough, but Lady Grey had one last device to inflict on her. She snatched from the wall a long tail, that had belonged to a horse once upon a time. It had a bulbous metal head, tapered like a blunted cone, that Lady Grey smeared with some kind of grease. This - to my horror (and Charlotte's, of course!) - she inserted into -

Well, into that place where nothing naturally should be inserted. Let us leave it at that. But the effect, despite that, was stunning, for you could almost believe that Charlotte had sprouted a tail, a magnificent tail, waving and shimmering in response to her sobbing. "It suits you," Lady Grey said. "You will wear it from now on."

In truth, I'm a little envious. I can't help wondering what it must feel like, both to have that long hair tickling my legs as I walk, and to have it within... there. You told me once that some men enjoy it there, and I really can't imagine it, but there must be something to it. I'm sure I'd rather have a tail than suffer this cruel containment another day.

Your doomed and loving sister,

S.

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