by C. P. Hazel
Out of the shadows he strode towards me and grabbed me round the waist. With only token protest I found myself dragged towards the spiral staircase, now bathed in ghostly luminescence from above. I felt more and more like Jane than my usual self. These thoughts were rudely interrupted as Douglas, with a flourish, removed the loosely tied scarf and, in almost the same movement, lifted the dress over my head.
I gasped at this unexpected turn of events, managing only a feeble ‘Fie, sir!’ or something equally unimaginative. My arms instinctively crossed in truly Jane-like modesty across my chest. Rochester came towards me, brandishing the mauve chiffon and, as if in a dream, I watched him quickly but lightly bind my wrists together. As we approached the staircase I thought I knew where we were going next.
But I was quite wrong. We did not climb to the upper level. Instead, I was now tied by the sash to an upright of the corkscrew stairwell. Rochester had me at his mercy, until, that is, such time as I decided to untie his artistic bow...
ARLENE (or is it JANE?): ‘What’s happening, Douglas? Are we rehearsing for a porno film, or what? What does this lead to? (inconsequentially) I need more direction.’
DOUGLAS/ROCHESTER: ‘Be silent, Jane, and listen. Through pressure of distant business I was unable to interview you when you applied for the position. Now I intend to remedy that omission.’
ARLENE: ‘What exactly are you on about?’
ROCHESTER: (darkly) ‘Listen to me, madam. I am, after all, your employer and it is my ward you have in your care. I am concerned that Adele should be firmly kept in hand so that her education is sound.’
ARLENE: (catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror, standing naked except for bikini pants in a shaft of silver light) ‘Why have you tied me to this - tree, Douglas? It’s a staircase anyway, er, sir.’
ROCHESTER: ‘Now watch closely, Jane. If you ever find my ward inattentive to her lesson, this is what you must do.’ (At this point Rochester slaps Jane smartly a few times on the outside of her thighs.)
JANE: (recovering quickly and rather smugly) ‘Well, sir, I foresee I will have no difficulty in administering this reprimand.’
ROCHESTER: ‘But this is just the beginning, Jane. My ward, I hear, makes frequent grammatical errors because of her French upbringing. This may be pardonable in a mere child, but now she is to be prepared for her place in society such lapses are less and less to be tolerated. I trust you will note this most particularly.’
JANE: ‘I will, sir. And what form of punishment, do you consider, should I give Adele for this fearful crime against society?’
ROCHESTER: ‘You did well to ask, Jane. I hope I can take this opportunity to teach you how the discipline should become more severe. It must be given to her on the hindquarters. Forgive me, but I must speak plainly on this matter, Jane.’
JANE: ‘I begin to understand, sir. But surely you don’t intend to make a governess submit to such humiliation here in this lonely place?’
ROCHESTER: (melodramatic) ‘Madam, I must insist you yourself receive the same punishment in order to learn this lesson well. It is essential that you experience a caning in the flesh. I am surprised that you are so uninformed about this aspect of maintaining discipline in the young. A lesson from me will stay longer in your mind, I guarantee...’
I wasn’t entirely sure what would come next. I’d heard of women enjoying corporal punishment from a partner, but I’d never dreamed of letting anyone actually do it to me. Now I was faced with a choice: either I free myself by untying the scarf or I let Douglas have his way. Would he really do it?
My mind was made up quickly. Douglas put a warm hand on my shoulder and ran one finger down my spine. In a second I was tingling. Looking down, I could see the angry blotches where he had slapped me. Now they excited me, a sign that my body could express hurt and anguish. I felt a strange need to be taken further, up to the point where I existed only in the intense pain passing from him to me. In such suffering Jane would surely discover the truth of her feelings.
The next thing I felt was a finger being hooked in the flimsy elastic of the bikini pants and down they slipped. I had become wet and increasingly aroused. I remembered how we had briefly been lovers those years ago.
Was my excitement at the prospect of making love to him again or at the idea of receiving pain from him? Or was I no longer thinking as Arlene but had become immersed in my role as a latter-day Jane? It was a distinction I had no leisure to muse on as Douglas subtly but firmly eased my hips towards him, away from the ironwork behind me. My back was arched and my cheeks made more prominent.
During this manoeuvre I felt the pants fall to my ankles. Instinctively I stepped out of them. Douglas instructed me to spread my legs more and keep them straight. I heard him removing his cloak and then a whistle as he tested the riding whip in the air. I shivered.
He came closer and ran one hand lightly over my buttocks, pausing just fractionally in the cleft. The tingling spread more intensely. I knew what was to come, yet all I could feel was half-eager, half-fearful anticipation.
There was a pause and I stole a quick glance over one shoulder at my image in the mirror. I was entranced at the figure so strikingly lit from above: quite a stage picture. I was beginning to admire my finer points, enhanced in the dramatic shaft of light and shadow, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye Douglas’ arm upraised. The crop quivered in his hand.
Despite this forewarning the first stroke caught me unawares and he followed it with a second a very few seconds later. When I called out, Douglas only muttered, ‘Stay in character, Jane,’ and slapped his boot with some ferocity.
By number three - for which he graciously allowed a pause of some ten seconds - I could feel the heat spreading, particularly on the right cheek which was taking the brunt. After six I begged him to use the left hand. A mistake, as I had forgotten Douglas was left-handed! He had begun with his weaker arm out of pity, he informed me.
He also quizzed me whether I was taking in this lesson, and whether I could recite exactly which youthful crimes deserved this punishment. Jane had to think quickly if this was not to go on for ever. She still received a further six before the lesson was learned. For the last two or three she pressed her stomach hard against the wrought-iron uprights in a futile attempt to reduce the ferocity of the stinging sensation. Her legs were quivering and rapidly losing their strength.
But, to my surprise, Jane never cried out, although she certainly bit her lip and made a soundless scream or two, and she never thought of releasing herself. She had to submit by nature to Rochester as her employer and also for his strength of will, which was bent on her mastery.
At last there was the twelfth. I heard the knock of the crop falling on the bare floor. Then a figure was beside me, untying the chiffon scarf and supporting me as my legs seemed unable to do anything quite so basic any more.
To my relief the figure was recognisably Douglas, despite the top-boots. He cradled me in his arms, crooning words of endearment and comfort, saying this was a fantasy he’d dreamed of acting out with me. He’d planned it so the sunset would form a backdrop to our role-playing. Then we kissed deeply and with a mounting passion.
I was once again myself, and the only way was up that winding stair and into the light of the room above. It might not be the bedroom, but this was the best way I could think of to find out.
I noticed that, ever the gentleman, Douglas allowed me to go first. His eyes, I’m sure, were feasting on the angry redness emanating from my buttocks.
The small bedroom was bathed in the last embers of the dying sun, one wall being almost totally occupied by a half-moon window. I gingerly sat on the edge of the single bed. Rochester was struggling out of his riding gear and turning into the Douglas I remembered from our student days. He had put on a little weight and his chest was more hirsute than I remembered, but he still looked very fit. He came close to me, wearing onl
y his boxer shorts.
DOUGLAS: ‘Are you sure about this, Jane? I mean Arlene.’
ARLENE/JANE: ‘How you do presume, sir! As you know, I am a maiden still and unversed in the wiles of you men. You must tell me what you want of me.’
DOUGLAS: ‘Arlene, for heaven’s sake. Can’t we drop this now?’
ARLENE/JANE: ‘No sir. I find it a real turn-on and I want more of it. Are you going to remove those linen under-trousers, my master?’
DOUGLAS/ROCHESTER: ‘Oh, very well, Jane. I hope you won’t fall into a swoon at the sight of my manhood.’
JANE: ‘Oh, show me, master. (he does) Why, it is a very large member, and it is pointing at me as if it wishes to tell me something. Oh, sir, where are you putting your hand? Surely you do not have designs on my modesty? (his hand spreads Jane’s legs). Oh, I see you do.’
ROCHESTER: ‘Come closer, Jane, and lie full length on the bed. Now put your hand on my member. Yes, like that. Now you may feel what it is like to have control of your master. My desire and happiness lie in your hands.’
JANE: ‘You are a fancy talker, Mr Rochester, I do declare. What will happen if I take your member and put it here? (she spreads her labia) Would you take advantage of my innocence?
DOUGLAS: ‘Arlene, I need you, really need you. What is the Victorian for stop being a prick-teaser?’ (he enters her)
JANE: ‘Fie, sir! You are importunate. But I just love it. Oh, oh, please don’t stop! Douglas, you beast. Oh, God, that’s wonderful...’
It was the following morning before I left Douglas’ apartment and we had spent a wonderful night together. In his full-length bathroom mirror I looked at myself before getting dressed again in the Empire-style dress. Still visible were the twelve proud stripes, now purplish weals on the surface of skin a little tender to the touch, that I had endured on Jane’s behalf.
This was a part I was sure I would play many times, both on stage and off, but there would only be one Mr Rochester for me.
Just the Ticket
Jenny’s my best friend, so she tells me everything. And when I say everything, I do mean absolutely everything. I’m supposed to do the same with her, but there are things I feel I just couldn’t tell anyone. Well, not the full gory details, anyway. Like the first time you had a really steamy affair with some fella who made you pant for it. You know, all the things you let him do. And then wished you hadn’t afterwards.
I couldn’t tell anyone that, not the whole story with knobs on. Excuse my French.
But Jenny’s different. She would. I suppose that’s why we’ve been so close. If you met her at first you might think she’s a bit, well, a bit of a blabbermouth. But once you got to know her as well as I have you’d realise she wouldn’t betray your confidences. At least, that’s what I used to think.
I met her for a snack lunch at Lafayette’s a few weeks ago and I could tell she was bursting to let it all spill out. Jenny had called me the evening before, but didn’t want to tell me over the phone. She was just getting me on tenterhooks, if you ask me. But, as it turned out, it was well worth waiting for.
As I munched my way through a camembert salad baguette Jenny let fly, occasionally looking around to see if anyone at the nearby tables was overhearing.
‘I’m telling you, Jill, this mustn’t go any further.’
With my mouth full I must have mumbled something that she took as agreement.
‘Have you ever had your bottom smacked?’
The explosion of crumbs from my mouth followed by a coughing fit surely must have indicated not.
‘For heaven’s sake, Jill, there’s no need to be quite so uptight about it! And try not to cough so much - you’re making people stare in our direction. If you’re going to hear the rest, you’ll need to exercise a lot more self-control.
‘Well, it all happened about a week ago. I’d just finished this delivery in a back alley off the High Street, when I came back to the van to find a warden standing there. Of course I was furious. I’d barely been away three or four minutes and there was a card in the windscreen like usual.’
I had better explain that Jenny runs her own part-time business doing rush deliveries for pharmaceutical supplies to chemists and other shops in the town. When she started it was to pay for this correspondence course she was doing in alternative therapies. She was really dead set on becoming a hypnotherapist. It seemed a crazy way of trying to support herself, and I told her so at the time. So did her boyfriend, Mike, but it only made her more determined to do it. And then she ditched him for no reason I could make out. But there’s no need to go into that.
The point is that’s why Jenny was parking her van at the back entrance of this shop. She stuck this card on her windscreen saying it was an urgent delivery. If that didn’t work she could usually charm her way out of getting a ticket. Jenny has a shock of raven hair and makes heads turn. But this time she got the shock.
‘When he turned around I was amazed. Jill, he was gorgeous, really my type. Dark and soulful, with a hint of moodiness. Dressed in shirtsleeves; it was a warm day. I could see he had good muscle definition. He was just about to start writing a ticket. So I had to make my move fast. On balance, I thought the direct approach might work best. Luckily I was wearing my black stretch jeans - you know, the ones that make my bum look really cute - and a short leather jacket over a body. I came up really close to him so he could get a good look at my tits under their thin layer of purple lycra.’
I tut-tutted at this dreadful flaunting of herself in front of a complete stranger. True enough, Jen had a beautiful figure. She had shown me her breasts one evening when we were back at my flat, and since then we had been to the sauna together a few times. She was quite open about it. They were full and round with pronounced dark areolae. She admitted they were her pride and joy, and I have to admit I felt envious. We were both in our late twenties, but Jenny always made me look like her kid sister. Whenever she thought she could get away with it she went without a bra. This was presumably one of those special occasions.
‘I could see he’d noticed right away, Jill. You know when there’s that electricity in the air. The street was deserted; it was almost like being together in a room. He lowered the pad of tickets and put it into his shirt pocket with a smile. Then he pulled down the peak of his cap and stood up to his full height. I could feel those dark eyes focusing on me from under the cap. It made me feel very small.
‘“You’ve overstayed your welcome here, I’m afraid, miss,” he said, with just a faint twitch of the lips. “You know what that means, I imagine?”
‘“But I did leave a note on the windscreen explaining that I was making a delivery. An urgent delivery,” I replied.
‘He gave me a quizzical look. “Is this your van?”
‘“Yeah. I run an express delivery service. I do it to pay my way through college. I’m Jenny, by the way. The other wardens usually give me a bit of latitude.”
‘He took a few moments to absorb all this. I may have been fluttering my eyelashes to make sure he was paying full attention. Then he pushed up the peak of his cap and gave my chest a more deliberate scrutiny. He craned around to the side and looked me up and down. The street was still pretty quiet.
‘“Well... Jenny, we’re in a bit of a pickle here. You’ve infringed the relevant section of the road traffic bye-laws by parking on a double yellow line. Absolutely no exceptions are made in the regulations, as I’m sure you must know.”
‘He said it as if by rote. I couldn’t think what to say next, although I’d wriggled my way out of similar situations in the past. He dug into his pocket and produced the ticket pad again. I began to panic.
‘“But surely there’s no reason why you have to go ahead and book me. Can’t we settle it in a friendly fashion?”
‘“How do you mean, a friendly fashion?”
‘He shot me a quick glance and then looked a
way. He knew only too well what I meant. To my relief, I saw him slip the parking tickets back into his shirt pocket. But then he reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a key ring with two Yale keys on it.
‘“What are those for? You’re surely not going to lock me up.”
‘“No, Jenny, I had something else in mind.”
‘I had been quite prepared to let him have a quick grope in the van, but I didn’t like the look of this. “So what are those for?”
‘“They unlock my office, which is fortunately only just around the corner,” he said quietly, taking me by the shoulder and speaking close to my ear. “There you will receive such a spanking that you will never be tempted to try this little escapade again.”
‘I think I must have rocked back on my heels with surprise. He smiled secretly and raised his exquisite eyebrows. I couldn’t decide what to say to rescue my composure. I was just left gasping, Jill. Can you imagine? But then he produced his ticket pad again and I had to think quickly.
‘“How long will it last?” I asked for some reason.
‘“As long as you can last.”
‘“And what kind of spanking? Am I to get the cane or what? Will I have to bend over? I’ve never done anything like this before.”
‘Luckily the street was still deserted.
‘“Since it’s your first time, Jenny, I’ll spare you the cane. But this will be something more than just a hand spanking. Decide right now or I will go ahead and write the ticket. Do you have a choice?”
‘He produced an official-looking biro. A parking fine would have wiped out most of that week’s takings. I meekly nodded my head and made sure the van was locked. He slipped a folded piece of pink paper under a wiper and told me to destroy it afterwards. Then I followed in his footsteps.
‘The room was almost bare, apart from a desk and a couple of tubular metal chairs. It was at the top of a flight of stairs in a grotty building with other offices off each landing. It was stuffy: the window looked as if it were jammed shut. Emulsion was flaking off the ceiling. Thinking about it later, I should have realised this was not really the kind of place the council would have used for its employees.