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Chapter 14: After Due Consideration
A few hours passed. I judged that Nicola would have had the opportunity to consider her response to my actions. I doubted yet that she would have done much more that to bring herself to believe it but it was always interesting to see how my pupils reacted to the unexpected in their experiences. After all she had become immersed in the world of the house and the cellar, it would have been possible for her thoughts of home and husband to recede. This must have been a rude awakening in many ways, not least that she was confronted with the fact – almost certainly forgotten – that her husband had been alone for some time.
“Bastard!” Nicola’s angry scream greeted me as I entered the cellar. “Bastard!”
I could see she had been sobbing; her eyes were reddened and her face streaked with tears.
I approached the bars of the cage that kept her confined. She leapt to her feet, distracted by her anger and distress. I said nothing. I stood, simply looking at her, waiting to see what path her protest would take.
Something about my demeanour seemed to anger her further. She looked around herself, furiously, and then grabbed the wooden chair that stood beside her bed. She hurled it at the bars of the cell. It splintered into pieces and fell to the floor. Nicola looked at it in silent shock, astonished by the violence of her action.
Her surprise at the sound and sight of the breaking chair seemed to defuse her anger. She collapsed to the floor of her cell,
I ordered her out of the cage and strung her up, wrists and arms spread eagled, her breasts and belly pressing against the cold steel bars of her cage.
“You will not question my methods, Nicola,” I said selecting a flogger from the rack on the wall, “and you will certainly not object when I take measures intended to see to the well being of your husband. Do you understand that?”
“No,” she responded defiantly, “no, I do not. You are no more than a procurer, and a sexual deviant. How could you send that woman to him?”
I felt obliged to answer her but responded as I delivered the beating that she must have known she deserved. “Because my dear,” the first blow fell across her buttocks, “your husband is distracted by your absence. Because,” another blow higher up the back so that as she bucked away from it she crushed her breasts against the bars of the cage, “it is important for your wellbeing that your husband does not resent your absence, and because,” Two further blows cut into her thighs, “you need to understand that a wife’s role is to ensure the sexual satisfaction of her husband, even when she cannot provide that satisfaction herself. In this way, Nicola, I am directly helping you. Can you see that?”
“No, Nooo,” she cried as the flogger cut into her flanks twice more.
“Then I suggest that you think some more,” I stood close to her pressing myself against her sweating back. I could feel her tense, as though she feared I was to repeat the assault I had perpetrated on Horatia against herself. I resisted, however. This was not the time. I simply reached around her and grasped at her breasts, squeezing and pinching at the nipple. “Consider,” I hissed my mouth a bare inch from her ear, “consider how he must have felt while you are here enjoying sexual stimulation, arousal and satisfaction as part of your training. Then ask yourself if he deserves less than you have received.”
“Ohh, no,” Nicola sobbed. “No, of course not. No, please, let me down.”
I thought for a moment. It was obvious she needed time to reflect. “No,” I said, you will stay there while you consider this. Later I shall come to release you.”
With that I snuffed out the lamps in the cellar and left Nicola to her thoughts and her discomfort.
© Freddie Clegg 2011
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