Read Online Thyme II Thyme by Jennifer Jane Pope - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Jane Pope
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she lay across a rock with her legs clad in black stockings kicking in the air, her cruel lips gaping open around cries of agonised protest...
No , I told myself firmly as I let the tableau fade, that punishment was far too good for her. When the time came I would find both the strength and ingenuity of purpose to repay mine, and Angelina's, debts to her in a full and appropriate fashion.
By the time we finally came back within sight of my little prison complex, I realised the afternoon was growing quite late for the shadows from the trees were stretching across the little clearing and the sun was low enough that I could no longer see it above the trees. I calculated that our walk must have occupied a total of six or seven hours, if Erik's timekeeping accuracy was to be relied upon; he had stopped to have his way with me no less than three more times and it had been the better part of another hour since the last session.
By now my earlier mood of grim determination had by and large given way to a mood that was approaching a black depression brought on partly by sheer fatigue and by the aching in my back and shoulders, and partly by the growing realisation that whatever contest might transpire between Meg and myself, I was playing under the severe handicap that was the warm and seemingly ever hungry little slot between my legs. It was like being fitted with a button that anyone could press to instantly deprive me of my normal logical senses. And the more times it was pressed, the more radical were the changes it wrought in me.
I knew I should not dismiss the thought that Meg had already become aware of this fact. Despite her supposedly low station in life, the woman was as cunning as she was inhuman and probably a whole lot cleverer than her supposed betters, to boot. Hacklebury might consider himself master, but it was Meg who was truly mistress here, even if only she and I were as yet aware of this.
I expected Erik to continue his regular cycle as soon as we were once again under the roof of my prison, but instead he simply hitched my leash to a wall ring and moved outside to open the door of another small cell which I had not yet seen the inside of. I heard a rattling of metal and a sloshing of water followed by the scraping sound of something being dragged across the ground. Then he returned and, to my surprise, began unlacing the back of my bodysuit and peeling the damp leather off me. My corset was next, followed by my gloves, and then, for the first time in what seemed like days, I stood naked. Despite the fact that my giant keeper had seen just about everything there was to see, my hands went protectively to my crotch.
Erik smiled and reached out to grasp me by the top of my left arm. 'Come,' he said. 'Smell it is you do and bathing time is now.'
For one foolish moment I conjured up thoughts of a nice warm bath all soapy suds and sweet- smelling oils. It was a ridiculous hope that was dashed the moment I was thrust forward into the last stall. Smaller than the other two, the centre of the space was dominated by a small platform of wooden slats nailed across two cross-timbers with narrow gaps between them. From the ceiling above them dangled two lengths of chain, each terminating in a broad leather manacle into which Erik quickly buckled my wrists so that I was forced to stand with my arms held high and wide.
As he secured me, my eyes fell upon the row of four metal buckets that lined one wall and were each filled almost to the brim with what was obviously water. Then, without further ceremony, the first bucket was used to douse me completely, drenching me from head to toe in an icy shower that had me dancing on the spot wailing and shivering in protest.
I was washed down thoroughly with a rag cloth and something that might well have passed for soap in a stable; it smelled terrible and made my eyes water. Then Erik produced a cutthroat razor, which he used to hack off my hair and shave the stubble until my
No , I told myself firmly as I let the tableau fade, that punishment was far too good for her. When the time came I would find both the strength and ingenuity of purpose to repay mine, and Angelina's, debts to her in a full and appropriate fashion.
By the time we finally came back within sight of my little prison complex, I realised the afternoon was growing quite late for the shadows from the trees were stretching across the little clearing and the sun was low enough that I could no longer see it above the trees. I calculated that our walk must have occupied a total of six or seven hours, if Erik's timekeeping accuracy was to be relied upon; he had stopped to have his way with me no less than three more times and it had been the better part of another hour since the last session.
By now my earlier mood of grim determination had by and large given way to a mood that was approaching a black depression brought on partly by sheer fatigue and by the aching in my back and shoulders, and partly by the growing realisation that whatever contest might transpire between Meg and myself, I was playing under the severe handicap that was the warm and seemingly ever hungry little slot between my legs. It was like being fitted with a button that anyone could press to instantly deprive me of my normal logical senses. And the more times it was pressed, the more radical were the changes it wrought in me.
I knew I should not dismiss the thought that Meg had already become aware of this fact. Despite her supposedly low station in life, the woman was as cunning as she was inhuman and probably a whole lot cleverer than her supposed betters, to boot. Hacklebury might consider himself master, but it was Meg who was truly mistress here, even if only she and I were as yet aware of this.
I expected Erik to continue his regular cycle as soon as we were once again under the roof of my prison, but instead he simply hitched my leash to a wall ring and moved outside to open the door of another small cell which I had not yet seen the inside of. I heard a rattling of metal and a sloshing of water followed by the scraping sound of something being dragged across the ground. Then he returned and, to my surprise, began unlacing the back of my bodysuit and peeling the damp leather off me. My corset was next, followed by my gloves, and then, for the first time in what seemed like days, I stood naked. Despite the fact that my giant keeper had seen just about everything there was to see, my hands went protectively to my crotch.
Erik smiled and reached out to grasp me by the top of my left arm. 'Come,' he said. 'Smell it is you do and bathing time is now.'
For one foolish moment I conjured up thoughts of a nice warm bath all soapy suds and sweet- smelling oils. It was a ridiculous hope that was dashed the moment I was thrust forward into the last stall. Smaller than the other two, the centre of the space was dominated by a small platform of wooden slats nailed across two cross-timbers with narrow gaps between them. From the ceiling above them dangled two lengths of chain, each terminating in a broad leather manacle into which Erik quickly buckled my wrists so that I was forced to stand with my arms held high and wide.
As he secured me, my eyes fell upon the row of four metal buckets that lined one wall and were each filled almost to the brim with what was obviously water. Then, without further ceremony, the first bucket was used to douse me completely, drenching me from head to toe in an icy shower that had me dancing on the spot wailing and shivering in protest.
I was washed down thoroughly with a rag cloth and something that might well have passed for soap in a stable; it smelled terrible and made my eyes water. Then Erik produced a cutthroat razor, which he used to hack off my hair and shave the stubble until my
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