Our story began here.
Sylvia was in a sea of emotions as she stood in the corner. Waves of a storm swept over her, vying for her attention; too many emotions for her to process or hold onto.
It was embarrassing to stand there while the housekeeper and two maids pretended not to be watching her, but at the same time she felt safe. But it was more than that; it was like being the centre of attention without the fuss.
Then came the humiliation of eating a cold dinner while an amused Gerald had looked on. But at least for that they were alone.
Part of her wanted him to relent, but another part wanted him to stand firm and put her in her place.
“Do you understand the rules yet?” Gerald asked as he sipped his cognac.
“Yes,” Sylvia mumbled, too shy to look at him.
“What are they?”
“I have to do as I am told,” she whispered grudgingly. “And not answer you back.”
“Well,” his eyebrows rose, “That’s a reasonable assessment as far as it goes; anything else?”
“If you say… if you say… if…” she could not get her words out and struggled to breath.
“Take your time,” Gerald took another sip of Remy Martin.
Her head bowed and she chased a cold pea around her plate.
“If you say I have to be spanked by Mary then I have to do what I am told and not argue,” she whispered. Then with the beginnings of an insight she added, “I have to learn my place, where I am comfortable and where you want me.”
She looked over her shoulder at him then, desperate to know if he was pleased with her.
Gerald smiled up at her.
“Do you want to finish that?” he said with a nod towards the plate on the mantelpiece.
“No,” she said, crinkling up her nose and taking another fork full. “But I suspect that has not a thing to do with it.”
“My baby is learning,” he chuckled.
*
After diner he sent Sylvia to her room with instructions to shower and ready herself for bed. He told her he would visit her at 9.30 and for her to be ready. This was yet another test for and he half expected her to decide she wanted her old life back at any moment. So he had not been as confident as he felt when he headed up to her room having first selected a cane from the cabinet.
The door was open and Sylvia was sitting uneasily on the bed dressed in nothing but a pyjama top. He noticed her hands were outstretched either side of her body with the palms down as if she was supporting her weight from resting entirely where she sat.
“May I come in?” he said, his voice half an octave lower than usual.
She nodded and dipped her head so she wouldn’t have to look at the cane.
He was in command now and casually turned the cane like the hand of some giant clock pointing to midnight and the let the stick rest on his shoulder.
“I want you to stand up and bend over so that you are able to take hold of your ankles,” he said without preamble.
If she had been expecting any she did not show it and after the smallest of pauses she got uncomfortably to her feet and took a hesitant step forward. Her lips parted in a soft sigh and her sad eyes reminded him of a puppy. But that was as far as she got in obeying him.
He gave another few seconds before letting the cane fall from his shoulder to point at a spot on the floor. It pointed like a finger of doom for a moment longer and then she swallowed and began to bend slowly like a swing bridge towards the ground.
“Bend right over,” he intoned when he saw her stop at a half bend with her hands fluttering somewhere round her knees.
She glanced at him over her shoulder with the same sad look as before and then with a final sideways air kiss that finished in a twisted pout, she looked down and bent right over so that her bare bottom peeked out from under the hem of her pyjama tops.
“I promised you this,” he said with a shrug as he moved behind her.
“I know,” she sighed.
“Bend a little more for me,” he instructed her.
Finally she was over far enough to grab her ankles and her bottom was fully presented.
He had no idea how many to give her this first time and fixed on 12 in his head. He decided that if she gave the least protest he would add three more.
“Spread your legs just a little,” he suggested, “I need you to take 12.”
“Yes Sir,” she whispered.
His heart leapt at the appellation and a weight lifted from his shoulders. He watched as she pumped her thighs a touch so that her tight split bottom wriggled from side to side and waited until she was still.
The first stroke was clean and sharp and cut the air and then the stillness of her flesh like a foil.
“Um,” she squeaked and rocked her behind at him in a little dance.
Even against the red skin a darker line formed and he was able to line up on the welt to deliver another.
“Eeie,” she squealed and did a more vigorous dance.
The swish-thwack of the cane fell at an even pace after that; each stroke landing at some six or eight seconds apart. For Sylvia she had had worse now, but there was something overwhelming about this sting and she could not be still or silent.
After two minutes her bottom had been redefined by a band of narrow welts that both looked and felt sharp. Tears pooled at her eyes, but bravely she was able not to cry and managed to hold position until she was released.
“Alright, looks like we are done here,” he said finally.
She stood up and clutched at her tail and then in a small wet voice whispered “thank you.”
He nodded. There was nothing left to say now.
“Goodnight,” he said formerly.
“Night,” she replied in a tone approaching a girlish gush.
The he left.
*
Gerald glanced at the bed with a sense of frustration and then turned back to his book. Softly, softly, catches the monkey, he thought, but it didn’t help and he turned yet another unread page, his mind most definitely on dinner and what followed, not the book.
The knock on the door was not a complete surprise and when he said “come in,” he fully expected to see Tatiana or Mary. But it was Sylvia who shyly crept through narrowest opening she had permitted herself.
She was still wearing nothing but her pyjama top and having exhausted all of her courage by coming now just stood before him looking at the floor.
“You don’t have to, we have an arrangement,” he reminded her.
She crossed the room in a blink and into his arms.
To be continued.
