He swallowed and closed his eyes before reiterating the memorised passage. “‘His first blow was like a bee sting and his second was worse. It was the precise sensation that my body craved but it didn’t assuage my fever. It made my blood begin to boil and nowhere was that more apparent than inside my womanliness.’
“As I said,” Parnell grinned, “she had the hots.”
Serena watched him wink at Charlotte and was surprised to see her sister return the surreptitious gesture. Beneath the table, Serena gave Charlotte a warning kick on the shin.
“At the beginning, they’d asked him to give each girl six of the best but, as it turned out, that wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them. When the six were done, they wanted more and the thrashing went on for a good hour. It might have continued into the morning but unfortunately they were discovered.”
“My God!” Charlotte exclaimed.
Serena was intrigued. “Who caught them?”
“They were caught by the owner of the house. Returning from his gentleman’s club he was outraged and demanded an explanation but no one could give him that. Both daughters knew it would presage their downfall if they told him the truth. I suppose they were right – it was the Victorian age and if the two young ladies had said they were being willingly thrashed it would have caused a sensational scandal. The gamekeeper tried saying he hadn’t done anything, but he had a piece of birch in his hands and the daughters had striped and reddened backsides to prove that something had gone on. With that sort of evidence against him, the gamekeeper eventually fell silent. He stayed silent until they hung him an hour later.”
“My God!” Charlotte gasped again. “How could he have been tried and sentenced so quickly?”
Parnell shook his head. “Vigilante justice wasn’t common back then, but it did happen. The house owner was influential enough to be forgiven for such judicial decisions and, at the end of the day, the gamekeeper’s job was only another staff vacancy.”
“That’s terrible,” Charlotte told him.
“The strange thing is, the gamekeeper actually had an alibi as to why he wasn’t there. One of the housemaids saw him outside the kitchens, whilst the thrashing was meant to be happening. She spoke to him and although he didn’t tell her his reasons, he did tell her that he was looking for a stout length of birch. They talked for a short while and the conversation ended just before the owner returned. According to the housemaid, the gamekeeper didn’t have the time to thrash either of them. However, she only spoke up whilst the gamekeeper was still swinging from his rope.”
“If he didn’t do it, then who did?”
Parnell shrugged. “I think the gamekeeper must have done it. There was no one else in the vicinity to carry it out and the eldest daughter is uncommonly open and frank about everything like that in her diaries.”
“But you said there was proof,” Serena reminded him.
“There’s proof that something happened,” Parnell agreed. “And not just because of what’s written in her diaries. After the incident, the family tried to put it behind them but the gamekeeper wouldn’t allow that. The first sounds started on the night of the next full moon.”
Serena swallowed. Her skin had turned to gooseflesh and she could feel the prickle of every stiffening hair on her body. It was a surprisingly arousing sensation and she tried to ignore its pleasant tingle by concentrating on Parnell’s words.
“The sounds were loud enough to wake the entire household. According to the diaries they were the most bone-chilling sounds anyone has ever heard. From the front of the house, beginning at the base of the oak tree, there came the sound of a birch slicing through air. It’s not a loud sound, try swinging a length of birch yourself and you’ll hear, but on this occasion, it shrieked through the night. Every month after that, as soon as the moon turned full, the sound recurred. Even then, people were sceptical enough to doubt that it could be a ghost but there has never been any other explanation. The sound would come on windless nights and whenever any brave soul went to investigate, they never found any earthly reason for what they had heard. All they ever found, unusual to find beneath an oak in itself, was a stout length of birch, propped against the base of the tree.”
Serena shivered.
“The family tolerated it for six months and then they left.”
Parnell’s voice had turned matter-of-fact and Serena guessed he had reached the end of his tale. That realisation did nothing to calm the nervous prickle that thrilled along her spine. An idea was forming in the back of her mind and, as much as she tried to push it away, it stubbornly remained and grew more appealing.
“The owner realised he’d done wrong by the gamekeeper and they say the sound haunted him to the end of his days. More than anyone else, he firmly believed the noise was caused by the gamekeeper, perpetually carrying out the final duty that he had been given – the task he had been hung for performing.”
Thick silence cloaked the room. Beneath the monotonous tick of the grandfather clock, Serena could hear the deepening pitch of her own excited breath.
“The sounds are still meant to occur now and again but in this age of insulation and double-glazing you’d have to be outside to hear it,” Parnell told them. “All you have to do is wait for the night of the full moon, stand beneath the oak tree, and they say you can hear every slice of the birch descending.” He adjusted his glasses again and glanced at the grandfather clock. “They also say that if you go out there just after midnight, propped against the oak tree, you’ll find a stout length of birch.”
Serena could hear her heart pounding.
“And with that said,” Parnell told them. “I’m going to excuse myself and get some much needed sleep.”
There was a murmur of goodnights as Parnell made his way out of the room. Serena feigned a theatrical yawn and said, “I think I should turn in now.” She kicked Charlotte’s leg beneath the table and, for the benefit of their hosts, glanced at her with an expression of polite enquiry. “Are you ready to retire, sis?”
“Apparently,” Charlotte replied.
Ignoring her questioning frown, Serena said goodnight to their hosts and escorted her sister from the room. “What do you think?” Serena asked, as soon as they had reached the stairs. “What do you think?”
“I think you should stop kicking my leg when we’re at dinner parties,” Charlotte replied. “I thought you’d broken that habit when you were six. I’m going to have a bruise now.”
“I don’t mean about my kicking you,” Serena hissed, not bothering to disguise her impatience. “I’m talking about Parnell’s story. Did it give you any ideas?”
Charlotte shrugged. “It made me question the dubious mentality of our hosts and their guests. Or did you mean something other than that?”
Wearily, Serena shook her head. They mounted the stairs quickly and she pushed her sister into the shared bedroom before daring to raise her voice above a whisper.
“I want to try it.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Have you been mixing travel sickness pills and alcohol again?”
“I mean it. I want to try it.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No way.”
“Didn’t the idea excite you? Didn’t it give you a thrill just thinking about it?”
“No,” Charlotte said firmly. She frowned and then asked, “What idea?”
“The idea of being spanked beneath a full moon. Doesn’t the thought send your pulse racing?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She looked as though she was trying to make her denial sincere but Serena could see something shining in her sister’s eyes.
“Well, the thought sends my pulse racing,” she decided. “Look.” She was standing by the window with the curtains pulled back. With an accusing finger, she pointed at the full moon. It stood brilliant silver against the night’s blackness.
Charlotte glanced at it, then looked away. “You’re crazy,” she whispered.
“It’s a full moon,” Serena told he
r. “Perhaps you can’t see it, but I know exactly why the eldest daughter wanted to be spanked in such a way. Can’t you imagine the excitement of being chastised in a situation like that? Can’t you picture the thrill of a full moon and the chilling sound of a sweeping birch? Can’t you imagine the sensation of having that stout length of birch landing against your buttocks?”
“I’m going to bed, Serena,” Charlotte said coldly. She began picking at the buttons on the front of her blouse. “Try not to wake me if you have any more grotesque fantasies.”
Serena stepped towards her and grabbed her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re coming with me. We’ll ask Parnell if he can oblige us both.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No way.”
“You two have been giving one another eyes all weekend,” Serena reminded her. “He’ll do it if you ask.”
“He won’t do it for me, because I won’t ask,” Charlotte said simply. “No way, sister. No.”
Serena glared at her. “Please,” she started. “I really want to try this. I don’t know why, but it feels important to me.”
“No way.” She glared up from the bed with an adamant expression thinning her lips.
Serena snatched her hand away and turned her back. Slumping her shoulders into a sulk, she growled, “I should have expected as much. You never do anything for me, do you?”
It was a calculated posture, and her words were equally well-planned.
Charlotte sighed heavily, “This isn’t fair, Serena. You always say things like that and we both know they’re not true. I do loads of things for you.”
Serena listened attentively, waiting for Charlotte’s next words. In the punishing silence, she heard Charlotte sigh again before deciding to relent.
“I’m not happy about it, but if you really want us to do it . . .”
Before she could finish the sentence, Serena had snatched at her hand and started tugging her out of the bedroom in search of Parnell.
Afterwards Serena realised that Parnell had refused three times before consenting to do as they asked. She had stated her desires boldly at first and he had refused with the same frank tone. She had tried pleading with him – saying that she knew he would get a lot out of the chastisement – but he had still said no. It was only when Charlotte asked that he grudgingly agreed.
“Just stand there,” he told them. “Backsides out, bending forward with your hands against the oak.” He used a stiff, authoritative voice and Serena could feel her knees beginning to weaken as she listened to him. Her anticipation for this moment had grown from a tingling interest in the dining hall to an unquenchable need beneath the tree. The night was clement with only the mildest breeze to tease her hair as it fell over her face. She glanced at her sister and hissed, “Isn’t this exciting?”
“No talking,” Parnell growled.
His tone defied argument and Serena fell silent and straightened into a submissive pose.
“Neither of you will speak whilst I’m doing this, or I’ll simply stop. None of us are going to say another word until we’re finished.”
Serena nodded and from the corner of her eye she saw that Charlotte was giving the same eager assent. Intuitively, Parnell seemed to have guessed that she wanted silence for this little ceremony. Any talking throughout their punishment would have lessened her picture of how things were going to develop.
“I’m going to prepare you both, then I’ll find myself a length of birch and begin.”
Serena drew a heavy breath, surprised by the quickening of her excitement. She heard his footsteps squash the grass as he approached and she felt the caress of his trouser leg against her backside. The sensation evoked a ripple of pleasure she had difficulty concealing.
Without a word, he reached for her skirt and unfastened the button at the waistband. The sound of the drawing zipper was deafening in the still night but the noise was almost drowned out beneath the hammering pulse in her temples. His hands were cool, but not unbearable and she didn’t flinch as he tugged the skirt away from her body. However, it was impossible to remain properly still when he reached for her panties.
Ignoring her unspoken protest, Parnell eased his thumbs beneath the band over her hips and pulled the garment down.
She could feel the fabric pulling away from her buttocks and knew she was being exposed. The thought sent her body’s need spiralling upwards. As her breathing deepened, she wondered if he was able to discern just how excited she was. Admittedly, in spite of the full moon, it was still a dark night but she felt sure that he would be able to see her wetness or sense the perfume of her arousal. Aware that those thoughts were driving her wild with anticipation, she gripped the oak tree harder. Deliberately, she tried not to register the caress of her panties as he tugged them down her legs.
“You look ready to be thrashed,” he said, drawing his hand against one cheek.
Serena blushed, surprised by her response to him. The palm of his hand cupped one buttock whilst the tips of his fingers fell close to her sex. She knew he wasn’t touching her accidentally and felt sure she could feel his fingers combing through the curls above her sex. The sensation was subtle but it fired a heat that left her sweating. She squeezed her thighs together and was surprised by the thrill of pleasure that rippled through her body.
When he moved away, she knew he had gone to tend to her sister. She heard Charlotte’s shocked gasp as Parnell began to undress her but the sound tapered off to a sigh of whispered permission. They were bending for him with their hips touching and Serena could feel the after-echo of each movement vibrating from her sister. She felt the tug of the skirt as it was removed and, as a second-hand experience, she enjoyed the caress of Charlotte’s panties being tugged away.
“Why are you wanting to go through with this?” Charlotte whispered.
Serena shrugged. “I don’t know. I just need to do it,” she replied honestly.
“I suppose I can understand that.” Charlotte agreed.
In the darkness, Serena could hear the smile in her sister’s voice and knew the moment’s excitement had touched her as well.
“No more talking.” Parnell’s brisk voice sliced through the air.
Charlotte made a surprised sound and Serena wondered if he was touching her as he spoke. She wouldn’t have put it past him and if he was, she wondered how he had managed to contain himself for so long. The attraction between him and her sister had been obvious from the first day of the weekend.
“No more talking,” he repeated.
Charlotte purred by way of response and Serena contemplated glancing over her shoulder to see what they were doing. Tiny shivers were emanating from the hip against hers and she realised the tremors were caused by Charlotte’s growing excitement. Under other circumstances she might have thought there was something perverse about experiencing the shadows of her sister’s arousal but on this evening it didn’t seem inappropriate.
She tried to shut the thought from her mind, surprised by the intense reaction it evoked. Her pulse was pounding so loudly she felt certain she was going to be driven mad by its deafening throb.
Charlotte’s tremors continued to quicken and Serena could feel her own excitement building. She swallowed thickly and moved her hip more forcibly against her sister’s pleasurable shivers.
“I’ll go and find some birch,” Parnell whispered.
Serena thought she heard the whisper of a kiss before hearing his shoes against the grass.
As soon as she felt sure Parnell was out of earshot, she pushed her face close to her sister’s. “He wants you badly,” she murmured,
Charlotte’s reply was a husky whisper. “He can have me badly,” she grinned. “He’s already got me more excited than I would have believed.”
Ignoring the weight of envy that nestled in her stomach, Serena opened her mouth to say something encouraging about her sister’s good fortune.
The whistle of a birch sliced through her thoughts.
Charlotte started to say something but her reply was cut off by a second whistle. Instead of speaking, she released a grunt of discomfort. The sound was almost lost by the snap of wood striking flesh.
“He didn’t want us speaking,” Serena reminded her sister. “Not another word, remember.”
Charlotte nodded and as she moved her head, Serena could see she was squeezing her eyes against the threat of tears. She empathised with her sister’s anguish and then forgot about her when the second blow struck her exposed cheeks. The birch landed across both buttocks, inspiring a fury of pleasurable pain.
The length of wood rose and fell with the monotony of the ticking grandfather clock. The stripes were delivered in a punishingly slow tempo, with one blow for her, then another for Charlotte. Each descent managed to find a new target and she was surprised by the thoroughness of the punishment. A dozen stripes had landed against her and it didn’t feel as though the same piece of skin had been touched twice. The moons of her arse cheeks felt hot and red and she found herself flinching from the birch’s descent before the length had landed.
The wood whistled loudly as it fell, its shriek presaging a blistering eruption that was too intense to be wholly painful.
As each blow landed, Serena realised that their burden was being distributed evenly. The birch struck her arse and, whilst she was still trying to adjust herself to its bitter kiss, she heard it fall against her sister. When she believed she had almost come to terms with the intensity of the last blow, the next one fell more firmly.
It was the experience she had known it would be and then some more. The combination of moonlight, punishment and sexual excitement were forbidden thrills that worked as catalysts for one another. The harsh pain of each impact barely registered beneath the spreading warmth of her arousal. With every alternate blow, when Charlotte was enduring the birch, Serena found herself anticipating the next stinging assault. The combination of sensation left her feeling giddy and wanton.
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