'There must be some other way she could take her punishment,' Olivia suggested.
The cane fell with a mighty swing, but landed not where Olivia thought it would, but hard on her own bare back. She shrieked and jolted forward, letting go of the maid's ankles.
'That was for daring to be so presumptuous,' Walter said. He gave his niece another square across the shoulder blades, but much harder than the last. 'And that was just for the pleasure of thrashing you. Now take hold of her ankles and lift her feet high enough so she can receive the full strength of my arm.'
Olivia closed her eyes as the cane whistled onto the soles of Helena's bare feet. The shock was so great that her whole body juddered across the carpet. The scream that escaped her lips was deafening.
'This is evil!' Olivia said emphatically, watching a livid stripe spread across Helena's soles. Her toes were flexing back and forth, opening wide and then closing tight.
'The English have much to learn from their Turkish counterparts,' Walter observed. 'I saw a slave girl, about your age as it happened, strung up by the ankles and whipped senseless. It was quite a revelation, the way her body twisted and turned. Forty strokes I think she had.'
'What on earth for?' Olivia uttered.
Walter shrugged. 'The coffee she brought her master was cold, I believe.'
'Hung upside down by her ankles, and feet whipped just for that?' Olivia gasped.
Her incredulous reply was drowned by another blood-curdling shriek from Helena as the cane whipped into her heels, and fell again just as rapidly onto the balls of her feet, just beneath her toes. Helena writhed in agony, throwing out her arms and rolling her head from side to side. Walter gave her a dozen more on the instep where the flesh was at its most tender and its most sensitive. Helena had ceased to scream and now lay inert, groaning and dribbling.
'One more on her toes and she can get up,' Walter said, touching his maid's toes with the tip of the cane.
Olivia turned her head away as the cane fell with incredible precision, right on the underneath of all five toes on the left foot. Then he struck the right, and idly lashed across Olivia's bottom.
'They say that when a woman has been soundly thrashed she is all the more better in bed,' Walter observed. 'Remind me later to give Flora a thorough good beating,' and he placed the cane carefully on the table.
Olivia, wiping away her own tears, untied the cord from Helena's ankles and let the bruised feet fall to the floor.
'Now be about your duties,' Walter said to the maid, who heaved herself painfully from the carpet.
'Would you mind telling me why I am to be greased with that, whatever it is?' Olivia asked.
Walter glanced over his shoulder as he made for the door. 'You will shortly have a visitor, and the oil will assist his intentions. That is all you need to know.'
Helena, who had no desire to be whipped again in such a fearful manner, took up the jar and scooped out a fresh dollop. Olivia offered no resistance when she began smearing it over her breasts. Her touch was light and gentle, the oil cool and soothing as Helena began circling her fingertips over the mounds, moving closer towards the nipples which by now had risen erect.
'Your visitor will love these,' Helena sniffled, giving the buds a tender squeeze.
'Who is my visitor?'
'Don't know, miss,' she replied truthfully, and went on plying the oil.
Olivia gasped as it started to sting her nipples. Indeed, it seemed as though her whole breasts were tingling. Her head went back, and open-mouthed she gasped for air. Helena temporarily put aside the jar and placed her own hot mouth on Olivia's panting lips. It was as if her searching tongue would never kiss Olivia that way ever again, and Olivia sensing this opened her mouth wider.
'I think I owe you this,' Olivia muttered when they broke for air.
'No need to mention it,' Helena replied. 'It is my place to be whipped when my master feels it right and proper to do so.'
She replenished her fingers and rubbed the oil between Olivia's breasts and over the mound of her stomach. In particular she coated the naval, filling it with a generous dose, and then continued to smear it all around her belly. Inside, Olivia was quivering. Her love tunnel seemed on fire, and yet there was a peculiar chill about it, and she shivered.
'What is this ointment?' she asked, looking down at her trembling nipples.
'I think it's something the master brought back from his travels in the East, miss,' Helena replied, tipping the jar into her palm.
'From Constantinople?'
'I think so.'
'Where he saw the slave girl hung up and whipped on her feet.'
'That and other things, miss.'
Olivia was about to ask what things when a sudden thrust of Helena's fingers made her catch her breath.
'Oh God. You put it there,' she gasped, clenching her fists.
'Only doing what the master says, miss.'
Olivia's mouth opened, but this time Helena did not kiss her but went on dutifully inserting her fingers into Olivia's vagina. She reached deep inside, coating the walls with the oil and then taking them out again for a fresh dipping into the jar.
'Please stop,' Olivia sucked her breath with a hiss.
'Not until you're full, miss,' and the slim fingers were back inside, wiggling all the way up to the womb.
Helena obeyed her instructions to the word and kept on inserting her fingers full of oil until Olivia's tunnel was filled.
'Have you finished?' Olivia said tearfully, for inside her flesh was experiencing that curious hot and cold sensation that had hitherto plagued her breasts.
'Only just begun, miss. I have to cover all of you. Will you please open your legs a little wider?'
Olivia shuffled her knees across the rug and felt the maid's hand go under her legs and rub slowly to and fro. Her palm had been covered with the oil which she now ground into Olivia's labia and pubic mound. Olivia cried out when the maid pinched her clitoris between forefinger and thumb. Her other hand had taken a fresh palm of oil and was rubbing it again over the aroused breasts and nipples.
'Now your bottom, miss,' Helena said, taking her hand away from Olivia's sex.
'Thank God you've finished there,' she replied, falling forward onto her hands.
The maid said nothing, but twisted her lips into a knowing smile and upturned the jar over the base of Olivia's spine. The oil ran like lava between the buttocks, slowly burning its way through the deep cleft and halting where it met a tuft of thick, tangled pubic hair. Helena put her hand on Olivia's bottom and began moving it round and round over the cheeks, leaving not an inch of skin untouched.
'May I be permitted a liberty, miss?' she asked. Olivia murmured her consent. 'You have such a beautiful bottom, I'm not at all surprised that so many men want to take advantage of it.'
Olivia blushed with pride at this unexpected compliment, and then suddenly grunted. The maid had thrust her oiled fingers deep into her anus, and was wiggling them inside her as she had done with her vagina.
'Do you have to fill me there as well?'
'Everywhere, miss,' the maid laughed, and gathered her fingers for more oil. 'Will you please relax a little?' she asked, as her fingers went in again to the knuckle.
Olivia could not reply. Her tongue hung out of her mouth, and she made a warbling sound from her throat, for now Helena was using her free hand to slop a generous amount all around her labia and clitoris. Ignoring the groans and grunts, she ran her greased palms up and down the insides of Olivia's thighs, making sure the long length of flesh was well covered.
'If you keep doing that I shall release my own juice,' Olivia stuttered.
'Oh, you mustn't do that, miss. The oil is only to prepare you for what is to come.'
'I... I think I'm coming.'
Helena took away her hand, and for no particular reason gave Olivia's left breast a hard slap. The frantic panting of Olivia suddenly stopped.
'Why did you do that?' she gasped.
'
To distract you, miss.'
'Do it again,' Olivia groaned. 'I'm nearly there.'
Helena slapped her breasts with as much strength as she could muster. Beneath Olivia's body they swung to and fro like a pair of bells.
'Shall I smack your bottom, miss?' the maid asked, lifting her hand high in the air.
'You will do no such thing!'
The male voice behind made Helena freeze. Olivia remained on all fours, her breasts slowly settling back into place.
'Get out!' the voice ordered Helena. 'Your master awaits you in his room together with Flora, whom you are required to thrash and oil!'
Helena stood up and reached for her drawers.
'Leave those and get out!' the man barked.
Helena fled naked from the parlour, clutching the oil jar. The man waited until her footsteps had died away on the staircase, and then came closer to Olivia.
'Remain where you are,' he said, his voice softening.
Olivia obeyed, her whole body still tingling from the oil. Under her legs a small pool was gathering where the oil had mingled with her own juice and was dripping from her vagina.
'The maid has served you well,' he remarked, regarding the pool.
Olivia said nothing, but listened to the sound of clothes coming off and a movement close behind her.
'Who put this ring on you?' he asked.
Olivia felt the touch of his thighs against the backs of her own, and she shivered.
'A man who has proclaimed me for his wife,' she replied.
'And its purpose?'
'To keep me pure, sir.'
'And are you pure?'
'Indeed I am, sir. For no man has ever penetrated me there. Nor will he for as long as I am ringed.'
His thighs pressed closer and harder against her. She was sure she felt his hardened organ between her buttocks. It began to slid up and down in the cleft, a task made easier by the liberal amount of oil that Helena had put there. The effect of the oil could be plainly felt on the man, for his organ had stiffened and was larger than any Olivia had ever touched or sucked.
'Given the opportunity, would you have this?' he asked.
'Indeed, a short while ago I would have begged for it,' Olivia replied.
'But the ring would have prevented that.'
He reached under her and fondled her breasts, making them slip and slide from his grasp. He paid particular attention to her nipples, pinching and squeezing them, feeling the buds swell in his fingers.
'Why are you teasing me?' she gasped.
He made no reply, but took his hands away and slipped one of them between her legs and, with studied motion, began sliding it over and around her slit. Olivia choked back a tear and involuntarily squeezed her bottom-cheeks together.
'How do you feel now?' he asked, slipping a finger inside her.
'I am in hell,' she muttered.
'I can relieve you from your suffering, if you will agree to do as I command.'
'What is it?' she sobbed.
'First I will blindfold you, and then put you on your back. Then the ring shall be removed and your dearest wish granted.'
'You want to take me?'
'That is what you want, is it not?'
'Only from my intended.'
'Would you resist if I were not that man?'
Olivia hesitated. 'If you are not he, then I should be pleased to take you in my mouth or up my bottom, but I could not permit you any other place.'
He gave her bottom an affectionate slap. 'Your loyalty is more than I ever dreamed, Olivia.' And so saying he seized her hips and span her over.
'You?' she gasped.
When after what seemed an eternity she came out of her swoon, it was to find that she was lying with her legs spread and the ring already removed. A cushion had been thoughtfully placed under her bottom.
'Would you care for a brandy?' he asked, kneeling beside her. 'Your uncle tells me that you are quite partial to it.'
Olivia shook her head. The effect of the oil had not worn off, and inside she still tingled.
'It was you who helped me escape from the Reynolds,' she uttered, blinking in disbelief.
'And it was I who ringed you.'
Olivia thought she would pass out with shock. 'I don't understand. Why did you not keep me with you instead of letting me escape and be taken by that horrible man on the train, and then...?'
He closed his hand over her mouth. 'It was not possible. I was then married to another, and was on my way to London. I only found you by chance, and helping you escape was all I could do at that moment.'
Olivia let him put his hand between her legs and rub it gently over her labia. Already she was wet with longing.
'Who are you?' she asked, reaching down and pressing his hand harder.
'Your cousin, Rupert,' he replied, taking her hand and closing it around his organ. 'I have known about you for years, and longed to meet and marry you. When your uncle told me that you had come by accident into his house I was determined to make you mine. While I was ridding myself of my wife I little thought that you would be abducted.'
'It was as well you ringed me, or I would have been deflowered many times over.'
'You can thank Flora for helping me,' he said.
'Where is she now? I must show her my appreciation.'
'At this moment she is being whipped and ridden by your uncle, and no doubt will be for many years to come. You will have time enough to thank her. But for the present...'
He leaned over her and started sucking her nipples. Olivia reached clumsily under her bottom and guided his organ between her legs.
'Why was it so necessary to cover me in all that oil?' she asked, nudging the head of his organ into her slit.
He laughed to himself. 'I had no idea that you would go into a swoon. I thought you would be so worked up with the oil and seeing me that you would be like a bitch in heat, instead you laid like a corpse.'
'Sorry,' she blushed.
'I shall have to punish you for that.'
'Before or after you have taken me?'
Without waiting for an answer, she lifted her knees and threw her legs over his back. If she was surprised at how easily he penetrated her it did not show on her face. The oil was still lingering in her vagina, and what with her own juice flowing like a torrent, he took her as naturally as if she had taken a thousand. He rode her until sheer exhaustion brought them both to the brink of collapse.
'Shall I be your lawful wedded wife?' she asked, after he lad dismounted.
'The documents are already drawn up,' he said, licking the sweat from her breasts.
'And you expect me to honour and obey?'
'Of course.'
'And in return you will keep me in the manner to which I lave become accustomed?'
'Naturally.'
Olivia wriggled free from his grasp and left the room. She returned wielding her uncle's cane, which she placed neatly in its hand. Then she prostrated herself over the back of the chair, bottom up and legs wide apart.
'You may begin now,' she said softly. 'In the manner to which I have become accustomed. And afterwards I shall fetch the oil, providing that I have been suitably treated.'
Rupert raised the cane high above his head and sent it whistling into her bottom.
Olivia looked over her shoulder, and said with a devastating smile, 'Harder... much harder!'
The adventure continues
Olivia's damsel in distress romps go on in Olivia and the Dulcinites, available to download now from most online bookstores...
There was a pause while he patted her bottom with great appreciation. Then without warning he smacked her with the full strength of his arm. The shock of the blow almost sent the wad flying from her mouth, but he had stuffed it in too well for that to happen. Slowly she felt the burning of his handprint taking shape on her left buttock. He struck again with even greater force. His palm fell spitefully on her right cheek. And he went on spanking all over her bottom, until it blazed a magn
ificent hue of bright scarlet. Olivia could feel his thin penis rising against her tummy.
Abandoning her philandering husband, Olivia enters a world rife with superstition and depravity: the convent of Saint Dulcinea, behind the walls of which persist strange and perverted rituals reminiscent of the Middle Ages, when harsh discipline and torture ensured absolute obedience.
Under the constant supervision of the nuns she is subjected to continual punishment and humiliation. Gradually she learns the true and terrible purpose of their intentions, which are not for her benefit, but to ensure the survival of the convent.
Olivia is driven to desperate measures, but the nuns are always one step ahead. Perhaps there is no escape from the dark terrors of the Dulcinites...
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The Instruction of Olivia Page 24