The smile faded from her face, and she gazed at me, with a wistful expression in her eyes. “What is the matter with you, Charley? Why don’t you kiss me?” she asked in an anxious tone.
“Why don’t I kiss you?” I echoed, bitterly. “Because I do not care to kiss a woman, whose lips are hot with the kisses of another man.”
She was utterly taken aback, her cheeks paled, and she stood for a moment staring at me in speechless astonishment; then, dropping on to a chair, she covered her face with her hands, and began to cry in a hopeless sort of way. I told her what I had seen. Then I asked: “How did Brooke find you out? How often have you met him?” Removing her hands from her face, she replied, sobbing: “I met him, quite by accident, two days ago in Regent’s Park, and he spoke to me; and as I was feeling rather lonely, I talked to him for a time, while we walked about the park. And when we parted he asked to meet him again to-day. I have only spoken to him on two occasions,” Then clasping her hands, she said imploringly: “Oh, Charley! don’t be so angry with me. I have been very imprudent, but I have done you no wrong. Surely you will believe me. I have never deceived you in my life. Oh! do forgive me. You know I have very few people to speak to when you are away.”
“But I told you long ago that I did not wish you to speak to Brooke; and you have disobeyed me by speaking to him; and what is far worse, you allowed him to kiss you. You must have given him some encouragement, or he would never have attempted to take such a liberty.”
“Oh, I am sure I never gave him the least encouragement!” she wailed, with the tears running down her cheeks. “I know I did wrong in letting him kiss me, but I really meant no harm. You must forgive me. I do not care for him in the very least. Oh, you know I do not love any one but you.” Then rising from her seat, and coming close to me, she exclaimed: “Oh! do give me a kiss.”
I believed her, but nevertheless I was very angry, and I intended to make her feel my displeasure. So I said: ‘I will not kiss you. I feel very angry with you. I am going to dine at the club, and shall not be back till late. I do not intend to sleep with you; so have the bed in the spare room made ready for me.”
She gazed at me for a moment, with a look of deep distress, then threw herself down upon the sofa, crying bitterly.
I did not say another word to her, but at once left the house and drove to my club. I ordered a good dinner, which I managed to eat with a fair appetite, and I drank a bottle of champagne; then, feeling much better, I went up to the smoking-room, and lighting a cigar, turned over everything in my mind. And by the time I had finished my weed, I had decided to forgive Frances, for what after all, was but a slight transgression; but before taking her back to my favour, I meant to give her a sharp lesson; she should have a sound birching the following day. The rod I had used upon Maud’s bottom, was still in the chest of drawers in the bedroom at the villa. Having settled what I intended to do, I went to a theatre; had some supper afterwards, and finally reached the villa about one o’clock in the morning, and, letting myself in with my latchkey, I went up to bed in the spare room, where everything had been comfortably prepared for me.
Next morning, when I went down to breakfast, Frances was already in the room, looking pale and miserable. I bade her good morning, in a cold tone of voice, then taking my seat at the table, began my breakfast. She poured out my coffee, glancing at me in a pleading way every now and then; and I noticed that she hardly ate anything. When I had finished my meal, and smoked a cigar, I went into the drawing-room, and seating myself comfortably in an easy-chair, read the morning paper from beginning to end. Then I wrote several letters, and went out and posted them; afterwards strolling about in Regent’s Park until it was time to go back to lunch. After lunch I meant to give Frances her birching.
During the meal, I did not speak a single word to her, and I saw that she was struggling to keep back her tears, and as soon as she could, she left the room. I lit a cigar and began to smoke, intending when I had finished, to call Frances down and let her know her fate. But I had hardly smoked half my cigar, when she came into the room and walking up to where I was sitting, looked at me pathetically, with tears in her eyes, saying: “Oh, Charley! I am so miserable and unhappy. I can’t go on like this. Will you not forgive me? Punish me in any way you like. Spank me. Birch me. I will submit; if you will only forgive me.”
I was delighted to hear what she said. Her voluntarily offering to submit to punishment, showed that she still really loved me. However; I did not tell her that it had been my intention to flog her, even if she had not offered herself for punishment. I merely said: “You certainly deserve to be chastised. I will birch you; and when the punishment is over, I will kiss you, and say no more about the affair.”
She looked a little relieved; then she timidly said: “Oh, I wish you would spank me instead of birching me! I do so dread the rod.”
“I intend to birch you,” I said curtly.
She gave a little shudder, but did not say anything more.
Then I went on: “Go upstairs and prepare yourself for punishment. Keep on all your underclothing, but take off your dress and stays, and put on a loose wrapper. Remain in your room till I call you, and when you come down, bring the rod with you; it is in the chest of drawers.”
She went away without a word, and I made my preparations.
I placed the couch in the middle of the room, and got four straps with which to secure her wrists and ankles, as I meant to birch her severely. Then it struck me that she would scream so that the servants would hear her. I called the two women, and told them to get ready to go out at once. They looked surprised, and then I sent them off to buy me some trifles at shops in different parts of the town.
It would take them upwards of an hour to execute the commissions, so that by the time they returned, the whole affair would be over.
All was now in readiness, and I sat down on a chair to wait for a minute or two before beginning the task which I knew would afford me the greatest pleasure. I revelled in imagination at the thought of it! I had not touched Frances’ bottom with the rod since the day long past on which I had birched her for spanking the little boy.
To some readers of this story, it may seem strange and unnatural, that I should have looked forward with great delight to flogging, in an ignominious and painful way, the girl who loved me, and of whom I was fond. But anyone who is a “lover of the rod” will easily understand, and enter into the feelings which possessed me at that moment. In every one, male or female, there is more or less, a “lust of cruelty,” which shows itself in different ways, in different people. “Lovers of the rod” like to give pain to their victims by flogging them in various ways. But many a man who takes pleasure in seeing a woman writhing, and crying with pain while undergoing corporal punishment at his hands, may in all other respects be tender-hearted. It is a strange, but true fact, that when a man, who has a fancy for using the rod, finds himself birching the naked bottom of a female, he has no feeling of any sort except one of strong sensual pleasure.
But to proceed. I called to Frances telling her to come down. And in a few moments she came into the room, carrying in her hand the rod, which she handed to me, and then stood meekly waiting further instructions. She was looking very lovely, but her cheeks were pale, and there was a frightened expression in her great blue eyes. Her long, golden hair was arranged in shining coils at the back of her shapely head, and on her white forehead there was a soft fringe of tiny curls. She had put on a loose pink silk wrapper, that draped her lissome figure in straight folds from her shoulders to her little feet, which were daintily shod with high-heeled French shoes.