Hall of Infamy (8 page)

‘What were you in for?'

The big girl gave a resigned shrug. ‘Oh, the usual. Gross moral turpitude. They caught me with a proscribed book. And you?'

Emma blushed, the shame of her conviction and the proceedings of the court still fresh. ‘Immodesty and immorality,' she whispered and hung her head. ‘I – they said I was pert to my mistress, when I would not… do something she asked… and, and then they said there were these stains on my sheets…' Emma blinked away a tear as she remembered the terrible injustice of it all. She looked up at the brown-eyed girl who was watching her sympathetically, and cheered up a little at the sight of a friendly face – a rather beautiful friendly face, at that.

‘This is a surprise, anyway,' she said. ‘When we arrived at the bridewell, we were just marched up from the train. I did not even know they had carriages like this.'

‘They don't,' Polly said flatly. The coach passed under some trees and it became gloomier inside the padlocked carriage. ‘I heard a wardress talking.' She looked at Emma. ‘It seems this thing was sent by our new employers.' Both girls looked at the barred windows of the prison coach, and back at each other. ‘Apparently, this splendid carriage is the property of Hope Hall.'

‘I know it's hard, girls, but we all have to go through it.'

Amelia knelt next to Clara as their aunt, still holding their leashes in one hand and the long crop in the other, explained a little about their situation.

‘Well, actually,' Lady Alicia continued, smiling smugly, ‘it was different for me. But then, of course, I come from a different country.'

‘Well, I don't see why—' Amelia muttered mutinously.

‘Shhh, you must learn to speak when you are spoken to, if you wish to avoid… unpleasantness. There is a saying in Hatherby, which is “to bestow, first you must know”. The Marquises of Hatherby and their families all have to taste the bitter dregs of servitude before they can be entrusted to wield the rod of true authority. In other words, if you wish power and privilege, you need to find out how it feels to be subjected to them.'

‘So why isn't Jamie on a chain, then?' Amelia said sullenly.

Lady Alicia sighed, put down the crop and dropped the girls' leashes. She leant forward and lifted Amelia's face gently until the young woman was looking into her dark eyes. The older woman shook her head regretfully.

The slap was so sudden Amelia did not see it coming. Lady Alicia's left hand held her head, gently but firmly, as her right cracked across Amelia's cheek. ‘Speak when you are spoken to,' she repeated slowly, eyes twinkling with merriment.

Rather than take up their leashes, she beckoned Clara to shuffle forward on her knees, and began unstrapping her bonds.

‘Jamie,' she said, apparently electing to answer the question, despite having slapped Amelia for having the temerity to ask it, ‘like Alex before him, attended public school.'

‘Now,' she said to the unbound Clara, ‘slip those silly frilly knickers off. I know they amuse young Jamie, but they give your pretty bottom a sight too much protection for the games we are going to play. Stand now, dear, and place your hands behind your neck. Look, Amelia, did you ever see such a pretty little sex? Mrs Pritchard tells me you enjoyed your shaving, by the way.'

Amelia blinked at Clara's shaven quim. As she was still on her knees, it was mere inches from her face. Her mouth felt dry. A potent mixture of fear and desire coursed through her veins.

‘Very well. Clara, skip off and ring for the maid. Amelia, get up. I think we'll have your drawers off as well.'

Amelia watched glumly as her cousin tripped off towards the bell pull, the bottom of the girl's bare buttocks showing beneath the hem of the little smock as she moved. Her own panties were pulled down by Lady Alicia and she dutifully stepped out of them.

The leash-chain dangling from the collar felt particularly humiliating as she stood there, arms pinioned securely behind her, while Alicia's satin-clad hand fondly stroked her bottom. The chain descended, nestling snugly in the silk between her breasts, and then the cold metal brushed the naked flesh of her denuded quim. The sensation was quite unbearably tantalising and Amelia bit her lip as she tried to ignore the feeling, the pressure of her bladder, and her aunt's fingers exploring her bottom-flesh.

The maid arrived before Clara had returned to her aunt's side. A pretty blonde girl hurried in with a great deal of rustling of long, billowing silk skirts, carrying a large silver tray.

‘Ah, very good, Kitty. Bring that over here.'

Despite herself, Amelia watched the maid's approach with some fascination. She was a very pretty girl with frizzy blonde locks which were barely restrained by a white lace maid's cap. The billowing skirts emphasised the girl's narrow waist, and her full breasts seemed about to burst out of the low-cut bodice. Apart from the fact that the girl's nipples could be seen peeking from the lace trim of the cups, the uniform might have been respectable, if old-fashioned. The element that made it seem peculiar was the sleek leather collar encircling the girl's slender throat, and matching wrist-cuffs. However, Amelia was most struck by what was on the tray.

To one side there was a plate with expensive-looking sweets; on the other, a stiff-looking paddle of black leather, and a rubber dog's toy shaped like a bone. The paddle was perforated with regular small holes, and something about it caused a prickle to run down the back of Amelia's neck.

‘When training girls, I am a strong believer in the carrot and stick approach – or rather, in this case, bon-bons and paddle. Amelia, sit next to me and watch. I suspect you are not quite ready for this yet. Clara, get on your hands and knees.'

Alicia took the rubber toy from the tray. ‘Now,' she said, ‘I want you to retrieve this without getting from your knees or using your hands. Understand?'

Amelia watched as her cousin, blinking anxiously up at the woman on the chaise, gave a tentative nod. Clara licked her rosebud lips uncertainly.

‘Now,' Lady Alicia instructed briskly, ‘don't move a muscle until I say, “fetch”.' The Marchioness threw the little rubber bone right across the drawing room. It bounced unevenly against the far wall before coming to rest under a chiffonier. Amelia followed its progress and then looked back at Clara kneeling on the floor. Clara was looking up at Lady Alicia nervously. There was silence for a moment as the four women in the room waited, each one of them, so it seemed, holding her breath.

‘Fetch!' Lady Alicia said at last.

Clara looked up at her, at the bone, and back again, with pleading eyes and ever redder cheeks. For a moment Amelia thought her cousin was going to beg to be excused this duty, but it seemed that something in Lady Alicia's eyes dissuaded her for, with a small sigh, she turned and crawled across the carpet towards the toy.

Amelia watched her, rapt. Clara's bottom was quite exposed, her quim peeking back at the women grouped around the chaise. When she reached the chiffonier, Clara had to get her shoulders and head right down, arching her back and lifting her bare behind most prettily.

A moment later, the blonde girl emerged, the rubber toy between her teeth. Amelia could not suppress a smile as Clara crawled reluctantly back, eyes downcast and pure humiliation written across every inch of her lovely face.

‘Here, girl!' Lady Alicia put out her hand and took the bone from Clara's mouth. ‘Hold this for me, Amelia.' The woman held the saliva-slick thing up in front of her face. Amelia opened her mouth and took it reluctantly.

‘Kitty!'

The maid who had been standing silently, bent at the waist, creaking slightly, and proffered the tray.

‘What is it to be?' Lady Alicia moved her gloved hand from over the sweets to the paddle, and back again. ‘Carrot or stick?' Her hand went back and forth hesitantly a few more times, fingers flexing. ‘Paddle or bon-bon?'

She sighed theatrically and picked up the paddle. ‘Recalcitrance and hesitation. When I say “fetch”, you must go like an unleashed setter or I shall imagine that you do not wish to please me. Turn around, raise your bottom. That's it.'

Crack
!
Crack
!
Crack
!

The little black paddle whipped down three times in quick succession and Clara shrieked with pain. She wiggled her bottom as if it were on fire, gasping and grimacing comically. Lady Alicia placed the paddle back on the tray and took the rubber bone from Amelia's lips.

‘Stop that silly noise now, Clara.'

Amelia stared at her cousin's buttocks. The paddle had raised what looked like dozens of little blisters on Clara's bottom-cheeks. Clara was shaking her head furiously, still gasping from the pain.

Lady Alicia threw the bone again. This time it bounced around the casement window, coming to rest by the crimson velvet drapes.

Amelia looked at it, then at the still-wincing Clara, at the quietly smiling Marchioness, and at the impassive maid. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece and Lady Alicia's gown rustled a little as she shifted on her seat.

‘Fetch!'

This time Clara fairly scurried across the room, grabbing the toy and turning quickly before crawling quickly back.

‘Here, girl!' Lady Alicia Feversham took the toy once more and placed it in Amelia's mouth as Kitty bent and proffered the tray again.

Amelia held her breath and kept her eyes on Clara as her aunt's fingers hovered. The blonde girl was flushed from her exertions now, and panting a little, and there were some tears visible on her pretty face. Her eyes followed the movements of Lady Alicia's hand attentively.

‘Carrot or stick? Carrot or stick? I have to admit that that was a lot better. But you could do better still.' The mauve fingers picked up the paddle again. ‘Turn around and lift your bottom.'

Clara gave a despairing sob, but did as she was bid.

Crack
!
Crack
!
Crack
!
Crack
!
Crack
!

Amelia watched, astonished, as the wicked device punished Clara's cheeks again. Her cousin howled in agony as the paddle cracked across her bottom and her thighs. Five hard blows punished Clara's hindquarters. Amelia, sitting helplessly bound, watched open-mouthed and felt her blood freeze. How Clara kept in position, she could not imagine. The blonde squealed like a stuck pig and wriggled her behind furiously, but somehow she managed not to bolt. Amelia saw her cousin's knuckles whiten as she pawed desperately at the carpet. Her slender shoulders quivered violently as she convulsively curled and uncurled her toes.

Lady Alicia placed the paddle back on the silver platter, took a bon-bon and calmly placed it in her mouth. She allowed Clara several minutes to recover. Amelia watched her cousin's bottom and thighs bloom with a fresh crop of the little blister-like swellings. Most of her hindquarters were a furious scarlet, now.

By the time Lady Alicia had finished her bon-bon, Clara had stopped howling, though she was still sobbing. Amelia stared at her cousin's bottom, wondering if it felt as sore as it looked, and how long she might hope to avoid finding out the answer for herself.

‘Come here, Clara!' Lady Alicia ordered crisply. Clara turned quickly and raised her tear-splashed face apprehensively. Lady Alicia produced a lace-trimmed handkerchief.

‘Now, cousin, you must stop this silly blubbing.' Tenderly, she wiped the tears from Clara's face. ‘What is the matter, did I make your little bottom a bit warm?'

‘I, ah, it… it's agony!' Clara gasped.

‘Oh dear,' Lady Alicia said mildly. She stroked Clara's cheek. ‘Well then—' the steel in her rich voice was unmistakable ‘—you had better try a little harder to please me, had you not?'

‘Y-yes… Aunt Alicia,' Clara sniffled, her eyes wide with terror.

‘Good girl!' Lady Alicia bestowed a dazzling smile and took the rubber bone from Amelia's lips. ‘Now, dear, would you care to try the game again?'

‘I think we must be there.' Emma pressed her face against the iron bars of the coach's window. The coach had stopped and the driver was talking to a man who had opened heavy iron gates. Both men seemed to be laughing but she could not hear what they said.

The coach lurched forward and through the gates and the girls could hear the wheels scrunch on a gravel drive. Emma tensed in anticipation of their imminent arrival at the hall, but she had not reckoned on the size of the grounds. The coach trundled on as both girls tried to peer out, but it was dark and there was little to see.

Finally, as the coach neared the hall, Emma made out its shape in the moonlight. A looming fortress-like tower was her first sight of the hall as the carriage approached its ancient west wing. Before it reached this ominous-looking keep, however, the coach turned sharply to the left. They found themselves jolted as the wheels rattled over cobbles, and then it lurched to a stop.

They were not furnished with lights, but there was sufficient illumination from without for the girls to exchange an apprehensive glance. Polly's face and dark soulful eyes looked even lovelier in the moonlight. As the key rattled in the padlock of the door on Emma's side, she reached across and gave her companion's hand a farewell squeeze.