Ring of Truth Blog

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Copyright 2005

Prologue

After finding the Ring of Truth and learning a little of its properties, I, Dr. Derek Meeks, decided to keep a sort of diary, a 'blog' of events surrounding its use in my life. At the same time I added excerpts from the leather book that came with the ring so they would be readily readable. For the time being I am keeping the information in a protected file on my computer and, for reasons that will become obvious to anyone privileged to view them, I do not intend to print them out until I, like the previous owner, decide to put the ring in some safe place. That may not be for many years hence.

Dr. Derek Meeks.

P.S. (Later). I have now decided to anonymously publish an edited version of the blog together with the excerpts from the book on a site I visit frequently and get much pleasure from reading the stories it contains. Names of people (including my own), and places have been changed but otherwise this is an honest account of my experiences with the ring. I have tried to write each blog as a readable narrative and have concentrated on the sexual aspects mainly because I know that it what readers visit this site for and because they brought me the greatest pleasure. I hope it will do the same for you.

Blog 10. The abduction of Chloe de Haviland

October 6th 2004

I've visited Kathy several times in the past week and there seems to be an uneasy truce between her and Professor Rowlandson but her work seems to be progressing now. I had quite a long chat with her over an early dinner in the cafeteria today and she said that he had put forward several good ideas which she was following up and he had set up a couple of the experiments himself. My conversation with her was observed by my student who suggested that I might be two-timing Sarah and I'm letting him believe that for he time being. It might help me explain why I pop into her lab every so often. I like Kathy but Sarah's my girlfriend. Rowlandson always looks worried when I enter his lab and his thoughts show a hatred for me but I've not done anything to upset his authority with any of the staff or his students although some do seem surprised that he is now taking an interest in Kathy's work.

Tea with Jean last weekend went very well as I expected it would. We seemed to be laughing and teasing each other all the time. Sarah accused Jean of paying me to abduct her to The Swan on that first night and in doing so had changed the course of her life. "Now I seem to be stuck with him!" she said with mock indignation.

"Well it was one way of getting out of going to Miriam's party," Jean grinned. "Would you rather I had kept him for myself?" My mind quickly remembered the shower and the bed episode that followed but I said nothing. I don't think I even blushed.

I also met Sarah's mother Sally for the first time. Her husband wasn't home and we only stayed an hour but I found her to be a likeable woman. Down to earth and practical. I guessed Sarah takes after her. I learned from her thoughts she was little concerned that her daughter had taken up with a professor (her mind promoted me!) and not someone of her own class. I hope that in time, as she gets to know me better, she will see me as a normal sort of person, rather than a highly intellectual and ineffective being.

I had to come to town on Tuesday morning to visit the library there to consult a local reference book they had so I called in at the bakery. Sarah was out the back and Maggie served me. "So she going to move in with you soon," she remarked.

"First I've heard of it," I answered and Maggie looked at me a little strangely. <<"Ooops! I shouldn't have said that,">> her thoughts told me.

"Sorry," she apologised, "I thought you two had talked it over."

"Don't worry Maggie, I didn't hear anything. We've talked about it but she seems very reluctant to make the decision. The ghost of Terry keeps haunting her." I knew Sarah had considered it but was still reluctant to commit herself and to lose the independence of having her own place. Obviously she had discussed it with her work mate so perhaps she was nearer to making the decision than I knew. She did spend as much time as she could with me but with dresses to make and her sewing machine and materials at her place, this was not as much as either of us liked. I'd already argued that it would help her financially if she didn't have to pay rent on her apartment and she might even be able to afford a small car. She knows it will be a little while before I earn enough to buy one for her or even to keep her but maybe in a year or so that might change. I've decided not to broach the subject again to let her decide in her own time. I've had my first real pay cheque and this has increased my bank balance to an amount higher than it has ever been before. I wanted to pay Jean back but she insisted I wait until my next cheque and I knew just what my expenses for a month would be. That was really considerate of her.

Mum and Dad seem to be getting along better now. Dad's certainly more in control of her. He insisted that she goes out and gets a job, which she did at a local supermarket. She's a shop girl now so she cannot taunt Sarah with that term in a derisory way. According to Jenny, Dad said that if she had so much spare time she had to fill it by going to a sex club, she might as well do a job that brought in some money. Mother of course was dead against it at first but now she is getting to know the others there, she seems to be enjoying it.

I have finished scanning in Joshua's book but for each blog, I have to type it in as text. The main problem is finding the time to do it. I'm not a trained typist but I can get along quite quickly even if I do have to look at the keys. Fortunately I have been able to transfer the JPG files to a laptop and have them up on screen alongside my computer. I can now read the text and type it in without jumping from one programme to another. Here's the next episode that I've just finished typing. The story must have affected Joshua a great deal because he wrote of it in considerable length and with great clarity. I will break it down into shorter parts so there is not very long gaps in these blogs (and to save my fingers! Maybe I will have to try reading it into a voice recognition programme and see how that works.).

Lady Chloe de Haviland

We had been in the house in Poplar about two years when late one October afternoon there was a vigorous pull on the doorbell. We weren't expecting visitors so I was surprised at the sound. We'd already lit the lamps because the weather had been murky and wet all day and peering out into the near darkness I could see the rain battering hard against the panes. A pony and trap stood on the roadway with the driver trying to control the rather frisky animal. No doubt the rumbles of thunder were making it nervous. I heard Naomi say, "Please come in M'lady. I'll tell Master Joshua you are here." Naomi bustled into the parlour where I was trying to coax some life into the fire, "Lady Chloe de Haviland is here, Sir. She's wet through poor thing." I'd met her at several functions that I had attended in order to socialise with the gentry and she had been to the house twice previously, thus Naomi knew her.

Chloe was a down to earth woman who called a spade a spade and who would converse with the servants as readily as with the high-born. I always had a warm affection for her even though she was perhaps twenty years or more my senior. "Good afternoon Lady de Haviland," I greeted her, "If you please, would you come into the kitchen where it is warmest. The parlour fire has only just been lit. You must have had an ill day to be travelling in this inclement weather."

"Indeed Joshua it has been a most vexing day and I am in sore need of some warmth and dry clothing but also Thomas my driver is outside and I fear he is just as wet and cold as me." It pleased me that the lady thought of her servant's situation as well as her own.

"Shall I go to him Joshua and tell him where to stable the pony and to come to the house as soon as he can?" Naomi asked. I readily agreed.

Beatrice arrived and curtseyed. "Don't stand on ceremony today Beatie, I'm no more than a drowned rat at the moment. Do you think you might find me something dry to wear?" Chloe asked.

"I'm sorry M'lady but I think only Joshua's clothing is near your size. I'm much too small and Naomi's will go round you several times. He does have a warm nightshirt that is clean or I can find some blankets to wrap you in until your clothes dry. With only the two of us women here we have no need of an extensive wardrobe."

Beatie apologised again and so did I but Chloe smiled. "Don't worry yourselves. It is me that is intruding. The nightshirt will do fine and I sure have worn worse in the past. I had visions from her mind of her in rough sailor's garb but they were only fleeting glimpses and her thoughts were more on the warmth coming from the kitchen range. I'd heard stories that when she was a young girl she'd been captured and taken to France by a band of ruffians who kept her as a servant mistress for several years before she was finally released.

Naomi returned and shook the cloak she'd had over her head. "It's an awful night out. You'll not be wanting to go out again it M'lady. Shall I see to airing the spare room and the beds sir?"

I was about to agree when Chloe surprised everyone. "No need to bother with any of that. I'll share Joshua's bed. You won't mind will you?" she asked.

"Of course not." She must have seen the look on Beatie's face who had just returned with my nightshirt, because she went on, "Don't worry Beatie, I'm not taking him away from you. Probably the bed is big enough for all three of us. Now help me off with these wet things if you please. Maybe I can get Joshua's bedtime shirt on before Thomas comes in." Unconcernedly she undressed and allowed Beatie to help while she dried herself in front of us and was still naked when Thomas, (I never did find out if that was his Christian name or his surname), knocked and came into the kitchen. Still Chloe's thoughts were more concerned with getting dry and warm than the fact she was completely undressed and in a room with two men who most socialites would consider her inferiors. I deemed the woman to still be in good shape for her age and wondered if she would expect me to service her in bed that night. I'd had older women but none as old as her.

Naomi took charge of Thomas. "You just face the other way young man," she ordered, "And start to get your wet things off. Quickly now," she went on when he hesitated realising that he was in a room with three women, one of whom was her ladyship. "I'm sure M'lady won't wish you to be coughing and sneezing when you drive her home on the morrow." Thomas was no match for the forthright Naomi and did as he was told.

By now Chloe sat clothed in my shirt and a pair of thick woollen socks while Beatie brushed the tangles from her wet hair. "I look like a comical peasant girl," she laughed at herself, "So that's how you'll treat me while I'm here. No more of this M'lady stuff, I'm plain Chloe until I'm wearing my own clothes again. Did you hear that Thomas? It applies to you too. We're all equals here especially as we are quite dependent on the hospitality of our hosts. I am most grateful for that and I'm sure Thomas is too Joshua. It will be like the old times when I was a servant at the chateaux." Her statement again surprised us all and in turn we all replied, "Yes miss Chloe. My two girls had a fit of the giggles, which started everyone off and soon the atmosphere was one akin to a party of friends. Only Thomas remained somewhat aloof and bemused by it all.

Chloe helped Beatie arrange the wet clothes around the back of the range to dry. "Shall I set the table in the dining room Josh?" Beatie enquired of me.

Chloe again interrupted. "Seems as if you have already set the table here so we can just add a couple of extra places. It's warm here too and less trouble to cart the food through. I said not to treat us like royalty and I meant it. I'll do my share of work and you can make sure Thomas does his." Without her fine dress she did indeed seem like one of us and we soon were chatting like old friends. Only Thomas remained rather quiet. I reminded Beatrice to get a room ready for him but Naomi whispered that she would look after him and then grinned at me. <<"I rather like him and the glimpse I had of his prick earlier should give me a bit of pleasure. Josh hasn't had me in his bed much lately.">> From her thoughts I knew he wouldn't stand a chance of avoiding being seduced once she took him to her bed.

While the girls, including Chloe, were clearing up the dinner things Thomas and I went to get more wood in. <<They haven't said where I will sleep. S'pose it'll be over the stable. Still they were very kind at the meal. Maybe I'll get to sleep inside the house. Miss Chloe was in good form tonight. Showed she was really a servant at one time. She probably had a worse time with those frogs than servants do over here.">> I sensed a story if only I could worm it out of Chloe but I would have to do it discretely.

Eventually we sat around a blazing fire in the parlour. I to one side of the fire in my favourite wing-back chair, Chloe in another armchair opposite me, Beatie sat on the floor at my feet seemingly wanting to keep herself between Chloe and me and Naomi and Thomas together on the settee. Although it was a three-seater settee, Naomi pushed Thomas hard up against one end. He didn't seem to object though.

"I didn't know you'd been a servant Chloe. I thought you was born a lady," I commented when we were all settled with tankards of ale. Normally I wouldn't have dared to say such a thing but with Chloe in my nightshirt and her having told us to treat her like one of us, I felt brave enough to try. He mind flashed to a kitchen rather different to ours. Someone was shouting at her in another language that I guessed was French.

"Yes, for three years. I was sixteen when… But it's a long story that I won't bore you with."

"I'm sure we wouldn't be bored and we've the whole evening ahead of us. Think of it as earning your supper by telling us a story," I wheedled.

<<"I suppose I could. Wonder if I dare tell them the rude version? It might make him hornier tonight. No, they'll think I'm a real harlot. Perhaps they've already guessed that from the way I undressed in front of them earlier. After being with JeanPaul and near naked for three years, I forgot about modesty.">> "Maybe I will Josh but I might need another tankard of your excellent ale first," she replied. <<"That will give me time to decide on which parts to tell them.">>

"You could always use your powers Josh. She'd have to tell us then." I could tell Beatie was trying to get a little dig at her rival.

"You know I don't do that except under exceptional circumstances Beatie. I don't do it to friends who might want to keep their secret lives quite secret," I chided her wondering if Chloe would take the bait and ask me to do it.

"I heard a rumour about that. Something to do with finding the rapists of Annabelle Collison, Blakely that was before she married. Tell me more, I'm intrigued." <<"I wonder what it is like to be hypnotised. I saw a man do it at the county fair once. Made the poor subjects do all sorts of weird things. Might liven up the evening.">>

While I was debating how to answer her Beatie piped up, "He looks into your eyes Miss Chloe and you have to tell the truth, all of it. You can't hide anything and it seems to make your mind remember everything clearly. He made me do it when he first took me in. It doesn't hurt but it feels a bit strange. You want to keep quiet but your mouth just goes on and on until you've told everything. As it turned out I was glad I told him and he's never mentioned it to anyone else. Nor has Naomi so you'll only have Thomas's word to worry about." Thomas crossed himself and promised to keep everything he heard that evening, a closely guarded secret.

"I'll still have that tankard of ale and then perhaps I'll agree to it." I knew from her thoughts that Chloe had nine-tenths made up her mind and having the ale was just so as she didn't appear too eager to reveal her past.

"Very well." Chloe said when she'd had a few sups of her ale, "What do you wish me to do?"

"Just sit back, relax and look me in the eyes. Then when I ask you a question, you will answer it truthfully and completely, even all the details on how you were abused or used for pleasure." I paused to let this sink in and to give her a chance to back out before asking, "What happened to cause you to become a servant? What was your life like in service? And how did you get back to being a lady again?" Her mind went back many years and I saw she was walking in a wood with a small brown and white dog. Clearly and as if reading from a book she started.

"It was a few days after my sixteenth birthday and I had begged for a puppy as a present. Caroline Dubarry had one and took it to all the functions and it made her the centre of attention, which pissed me a bit. I don't think my caring for the puppy would have lasted very long for at that time I was very arrogant and firmly believed that my place was with the upper crust of the world. I was the daughter of Lord de Haviland and made sure no one forgot it. However, at that time I'd had it only a day or two and I decided to walk over to the Saville's and show it off to them and especially to their son Jason who was a little older than me and quite handsome. I took the short cut through the woods as it was still light and the weather was dry. When I was well along the path I heard some gunfire but just assumed it to be hunters after deer. Shortly after a group of four men came running down the path behind me. They looked like sailors and were jabbering in French but, although I had a French governess, I could pick out only a few words. Rudely they pushed by me and then one stopped and told the others to get me and hold me as a hostage. The words were clear enough for me to understand. They acted on his instructions and I was held and pulled along. The puppy ran off and I started screaming until one produced a knife and held it to my breast and bade me be quiet. With a man pulling at each arm I was dragged along until we came to the road.

I almost got away at that point. One man had let go of my arm and I shook the other free and ran back into the woods but they quickly caught me again. This time they tied my wrists. I know I called them some very unladylike things both in English and my school French but they just laughed and the leader, who I found out was called JeanPaul, said slowly and clearly, "Maybe we keep you and not let you go when we get to the boat. It will be nice to try and tame an English bitch aristocrat and maybe we can use the knowledge that we have you captive to our advantage." We hurried along the road heading towards the river. After only a short way I was pulled to some bushes at the side when we heard a carriage approaching. It was empty except for the driver so I guessed he was going to pick up his master of mistress from an afternoon function. Two of my captors stepped into the road and produced a brace of pistols and forced the driver to stop. He was quickly knocked out and I was thrown in. We then drove at great speed to a little dock area where a small boat was tethered.

"Shall we tie the cunt to a tree?" one of the sailors asked JeanPaul. "I started to protest at the use of such a rude term for the daughter of a lord but JeanPaul slapped my face and told me to shut up. At that moment we heard horses approaching. "No, put her in the boat and we'll use her to shield us." They roughly bundled me into the boat. I remember struggling and trying to kick them but that only made them handle me even more rudely. Several times my tits were sorely squeezed and my bottom smacked. We were but a few yards from the jetty when the horsemen appeared. One dismounted and shouldered his rifle and trained it on us. JeanPaul made me stand and held me from the back while I faced them so I was in direct line of the bullet should the rifle be fired. I knew then exactly what he meant by using me as a shield. The sailors were rowing strongly and the distance between us and the men on the shore was rapidly increasing so I guessed that even had the rifle been fired the chances of my being hit were quickly diminishing. Eventually I was allowed to sit but knew from the looks they gave me, the minds of all four rowers were undressing me. It was unnerving to sit on the back seat facing them knowing I was getting further and further away from my home and I started to cry. They asked my name and when I told them they laughed as though it was a huge joke. I started berating them again in my native tongue and in the few rude words of French that I knew. JeanPaul not only continued laughing at me, he started teaching me further very disgusting phrases that I could use on them. I broke down and sobbed. After an hour a sailing boat, which they called a sloop, appeared in the failing light and I wondered now they were relatively safe whether I would be taken on board or dumped in the water. In halting French I asked what they were going to do with me. "If you are good, I take you to the chateaux, if you try and cause a lot of trouble I let everyone fuck you and toss you in the channel," he replied as if either course was perfectly acceptable to him. I sobbed louder at the news.

One of the sailors lit a lantern and held it up. The sloop saw us and altered course so we closed on it quickly and as soon as we were alongside, rough hands lifted me on board and dumped me in a corner of the deck. For a few minutes orders were shouted and sailors seemed to be moving in all directions. The little boat we came in was hoisted from the water and put on the deck not far from where I sat. More sails were unfurled and the ship heeled over at what seemed an alarming angle and we began to speed through the water. It appeared the captain wasn't too keen on having me aboard but JeanPaul seemed to have the final say. They spoke too fast for me to pick up much of the altercation and with all the other ship noises I couldn't hear the conversation too clearly. Eventually they reached some sort of agreement and JeanPaul cut the bindings to my wrists. By now they were very sore and had chafe marks around them but I was more concerned by his next order. "Take off all your clothes." "No!" I screamed at him, "Not in front of you! Not in front of this bunch of filthy bandits! I'm not one of your quayside whores!" My mind wondered if this was going to be the mass rape that JeanPaul mentioned as the prelude to my being thrown overboard. "You take them off and have them whole for later or we cut them off and you have nothing to wear when we arrive in the harbour." I knew every seaman carried a knife in a sheath at the back of his belt and I'd already seen how easily they cut the rope. "Please, don't." I begged. JeanPaul didn't hesitate. He ordered two men to hold my arms and anther two to cut my dress off. I quickly changed my mind and said I would do it but JeanPaul ignored me and said that I would have to do what I was told first time in future. Soon, despite my efforts and pleas, the tattered remains of my clothing were thrown over the side and I was totally naked in front of the crew about twenty men. Fortunately the light was fading but I had no means to cover myself. Because of the angle and motion of the ship I was forced to hold on to some ropes and thus could not cover my body. I knew they were all staring at me and several had their pricks out and were openly rubbing them and making the most disgusting comments. They were the first pricks I'd seen in a hard state and I tried to turn my head away but that only brought another sailor showing his weapon into view. Perhaps it was fortunate that at that time I only half understood what they were saying. I remember shivering both from the cold air and the fright on not knowing what they would do to me.

"Spread her over the hatch," JeanPaul ordered and if found myself being dragged and half carried to an area raised about a foot higher than the deck. Two sailors held me across it by my arms and they squeezed and mauled my tits at the same time. Two others pulled my legs apart. I steeled myself to be raped although I begged them not to. Fingers invaded my vagina and a seaman announced that I was indeed a virgin. "Not for much longer," JeanPaul laughed, "And by the time she gets back to her home she'll be very experienced in all the ways the French can fuck." I wept bitterly but I knew it would make no difference. With the noise of the wind and rushing water, and the creaks a boat makes under sail, I didn't hear it coming but I suddenly felt something hit my arse followed immediately by a hellish pain I screamed and struggled to no avail. Shortly after another band of fire, another pain. JeanPaul had doubled a length of rope and was using the loop to welt my buttocks in a most painful way. Ten times he hit me and I later found the doubled rope had produced nearly twenty vivid red lines. There was no respite to the pain. As soon as he stopped whipping me, JeanPaul thrust his prick into my cunt and fucked me as hard as he could. I'm sorry if the terms offend you but while in their clutches they insisted I used the crudest words for what they did to me. My maidenhead was unceremoniously swept away but I hardly noticed the pain against the background of fire covering my whipped arse. I suppose he must have come inside me but I felt nothing until he withdrew only to be replaced by the captain. More pain but it all seemed to blur together as the crew drew lots for three of them to have me. I remember little of them until a bucket of cold seawater was thrown over me and I was released.

It was getting quite dark by then so I could only see silhouetted shapes in the faint reflection coming from the white sails. "Help her to my cabin," ordered JeanPaul. I slipped on the moving deck but strong arms caught me and took me to a cabin near the back of the boat. JeanPaul lit a small lantern and gave me some cloths to dry myself and then indicated that I should lie on a bunk bed. Still sobbing with the pain, I lay face down on the bedding and prayed my life would soon end or I would be rescued by a gallant midshipman and taken aboard one of his majesty's frigates. Neither happened. "There's a bucket under this lid if you feel sick or need to piss," JeanPaul informed me as lifted the centre section of a seat. The motion of the ship and the stale, tobacco scented air of the cabin, were already getting to me and I sensed that I would be needing the bucket soon. "Don't try and leave this cabin, I will be back shortly," my captor informed me as he left. I had no desire to move even as far as the dreaded bucket. Even the smallest movement of my legs caused me great pain. I lay there feeling wretched, wondering what was to become of me, wondering how soon the pain would go, wondering if the servants I'd had punished at home felt the pain like I did. I thought not although their cries were not far removed from mine. Soon though I was compelled to lift the seat and vomit into the bucket. In a slight interlude between bouts of sickness I did manage to piss and get most of it in the bucket but that only made the smell worse when I had once more to put my face over it to be sick again. At that time, I just knew I was going to die in the very near future.

I don't know how long I stayed hovering above that noisome bucket but I was still there when JeanPaul returned, "Wipe your face and drink this," he ordered handing me a cloth wet with seawater. Still kneeling I wiped the worst of the sick from around my mouth and took the glass he offered. It was alcohol of some sort but it had a strange taste. "It will help the sickness," he explained but from my translation of his words, I wasn't sure whether he meant it would make me more sick or help me to get over it. Fortunately it was the latter and five minutes later I was able to crawl back to the bunk. JeanPaul pulled a blanket over my body and then sat on a seat and stared into my eyes without saying a word. It wasn't hypnotism like you use Joshua. He just stared. I was too exhausted to fight him but I debated whether I could ask a question without receiving more punishment. "JeanPaul?" I started tentatively, "JeanPaul, what are you going to do with me? Please tell me."

"It's no secret Chloe. We will take you to my chateaux and you will become one of my kitchen maids and learn to cook and learn to service my desires or the desires of my guests. We're not going to drown you, if that is what you are worried about. It would be a great pity to waste a lovely body such as yours when it can be used to give us much pleasure. Now just lie there. If this fair wind holds we should arrive sometime tomorrow and you can find out your new role in life then."

"Will I ever get back…" I started to ask but he left the cabin again.

I know not how long I lay face down on the hard mattress before he came back again and this time he brought some food. French bread, still quite fresh, some cheese and a bottle of red wine. "Eat this, we've still many hours before we arrive." It was almost a command. I rolled on to one side and gave a little cry as the pain in my arse re-emerged with vengeance. Ignoring my cry he part filled two leather tankards with the wine and I wondered how many others had drunk from that same tankard since it was last washed. I tried unsuccessfully to drink without my lips touching the leather and eventually had to drink normally although even that was difficult from the position I was in. He drank from his without any qualms and smoked a clay pipe while he watched me. I did feel better for having eaten a little and tried again to ask the question I wanted an answer to. "Sir, JeanPaul, will I ever get back to my home again?"

"I expect so Chloe but it won't be anytime soon. While we have you, your father, Lord de Haviland, will have to cooperate with our operation. He will have to find us a place to store our goods on his estate now that the excise men have discovered ours in the old chapel. They nearly caught us today as we were returning. You were a piece of good luck for us so I intend to keep you."

"They'll hang you if they catch you."

"Kidnapping you is only one of a long string of things they could hang me for. It would make no difference if I murdered you now so whatever I do to you makes no difference to what your law might do, if they catch me of course. Now forget all that, I'm ready to bed you again. And don't think about complaining or you'll be over the hatch and feel the rope again and a few more sailors get to use your cunt." I knew that was no idle threat. In the flickering light of the small lamp I watched as he removed his top-coat and his breeches. When he approached me I turned my head and received a sharp slap across my cheek. "Look at it," he demanded, "This will be your master for months to come. It may be the tool that puts a new life in your belly if it hasn't done so already." I reasoned that it shouldn't have because I only finished my monthly curse a day or two before. His prick, so close to my face, seemed enormous but later, when I became more knowledgeable about such things, I learned that it was only a little bigger than normal. "Give it a little suck." I must have looked horrified but he calmly reached under the blanket and twisted a nipple. As soon as I yelled he popped his prick in and I knew better than to bite. "Suck it," he repeated. The taste wasn't unpleasant, not like I imagined it would be so I sucked. It was the less painful option. He didn't keep it there long, just long enough for it to become fully hard, then threw the blanket off and rolled me on my back. Once more I cried out as my sore arse hit the mattress but worse was to come. Spreading my legs he climbed on top of my body and began fucking me quite robustly. The pain from his weight on my welted arse was almost too much for me and I yelled at the top of my voice but JeanPaul grinned and told me to quieten down otherwise he would tickle the front of me as well. I guessed his idea of tickling was to use the rope again so I tried to curtail my screams. I almost started to feel some enjoyment from the fuck but then he spurted his stuff in me and withdrew and once more I was left with just the agony in my arse and the soreness inside my cunt. Soon he rolled over and lay beside me so I was able to lie face down once more to relieve the weight on my poor bottom but sleep didn't come as easily as it did to him. Eventually I dozed until someone came in the night and woke him. He was gone on watch for some hours and I did get a few hours fitful sleep before he returned just as a little of the dawn light came through the skylight in the cabin. For the second time that night I watched him remove his top clothes and get into bed alongside me. This time though, he wasn't erect and he seemed very tired and fell asleep immediately.

A couple of hours later, activity on the deck aroused him and I could feel his hardness against my body. "Time for a quick fuck before breakfast, I think," he stated and pushed me on to my back again. The pain had died a little but even so, the fuck was again very painful although this time he took longer and I think did his best to pleasure me so that I had my first climax. The pleasure and the pain sensations bewildered me at that time but I was to get many more insights into that later. I still resented being on that little boat inside a cabin that smelled of tar and tobacco smoke but for the first time, I had at least partially enjoyed a fuck. "Use the bucket and be ready to come to breakfast in a few moments. The men do it over the ship's side," he pointed out and I took the hint that I might be made to do so if I objected to the bucket. He came back a short while later, lit his pipe and dragged me naked on deck. The crew cheered but none touched me although they made remarks about my body especially my tits and my arse. It was very cold that early in the morning and at sea with the keen wind and I was soon shivering almost uncontrollably. I know that JeanPaul had intended to keep me naked but even he could see that I would get the chills and possibly die if I wasn't in warm clothing. He asked a young lad who was about my size to find something for me to wear and he returned with thick trousers, a wool shirt, and a jersey. My leather shoes had not been cast to the sea and were returned to me but I soon took them off again because they were slippery on the wet wood; wood that was constantly changing its angle seemingly in several directions at once. Watched by most of the crew I had to dress myself in these coarse clothes. They felt warm but they itched as well and the trousers chafed my arse. Sitting on the hard hatch to eat was painful but I tried to hide it from the crew because I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how badly they'd hurt me. Breakfast was very different to at home. Bread, with various pickles, cheeses and meats washed down with a hot drink that may well have contained rum but I didn't ask. Several men came and sat on the ship's rail where I could see them and lowered their breeches to perform their morning ablutions. I knew they did this to embarrass and humiliate me further but I tried to ignore them and didn't even turn my head. I found it disgusting though, to have to eat while men pissed and shit in front of me.

Near midday we sighted the French coast and the captain ran up their national tricolour flag and headed the boat southward for some hours. The wind was not as strong now and many times it seemed they turned the boat in a different direction causing the sails to go from one side to the other and making it heel the other way. When I asked why they did this, the sailors just laughed at me as though I had made a joke. The sun was out and I found a spot where I could sit on a pile of relative soft canvas and be out of the way. I tried to think of a way to escape but on a boat the only way out of the situation was to throw myself overboard. I couldn't swim and had a fear of being in the water so that wasn't an option. A few of the sailors spoke when near but I couldn't always understand their dialect. JeanPaul's was nearer to that of my French teacher and he deliberately spoke slower to me. For much of the afternoon he seemed busy with navigational problems and only came to me when we had lunch. A hot fish stew this time. Later there was more activity and I noticed we were approaching closer to the shore. Men were in the rigging reducing the amount of sail we carried. One of the crew pointed to a stone building on a rocky promontory. "JeanPaul's chateaux," he said. That was the place I was to spend the next three years and where I gave birth to two children, one girl who was taken from me as soon was born and cared for in a convent, the other I miscarried. To this day I have not seen my daughter."

Tears filled ran down her face and her mind conjured up images of her baby being forcibly taken from her arms while she pleaded and wailed at them to let her keep her. It was very moving experience for me too and almost cried at the thoughts of what the hated French had done to her. I refilled her tankard with more ale. She'd been supping frequently during her tale but she didn't seem to notice. Chloe just kept on talking almost as if we weren't there. Never before had a person talked for so long while under the influence of the ring.

[I decided to break this blog at this point and continue again later. Joshua's account continued uninterrupted but my typing fingers needed a break. The narrative must have moved him deeply because he wrote such a long and clear account of it. I will post this episode and follow it with the remainder as soon as I find time to type it all. Derek.]