"Oh, what does it matter, Julian? I shall always have you to console me."
It was a matter of surprise to me that the consolations I had administered to Maud, and the duties I had discharged towards Beatrice, had not altered the figure of either of those ladies in the very least. I pondered upon this. And after our return, when the honeymoon and its fooleries ceased to a large extent by Beatrice's commands, I found I was still expected to go to her room, whenever she pleased, and to Maud's whenever she liked.
I thought I would employ my heavy House of Commons manner in trying to make Beatrice understand the necessity of our having an heir, and the danger Maud ran in these days of fierce competition in the matrimonial and other markets, if it should chance to be discovered, as it certainly would be, that a little stranger arrived via Maud instead of via Beatrice, or that Maud had such wonderful subtle sympathy for the sister that she, without any ostensible wherefore in the shape of a man of her own, should produce a little stranger, too.
"You are an owl!" said Beatrice. "Go to my boudoir."
I went to her boudoir, although, upon my word, I wanted to go to my club.
In our travels we had passed twice through Paris, going and returning. In Paris, Beatrice bought a thickish quarto album, with a limp cover, and she made me collect all the photographs, prints, sketches and drawings that were obtainable, in which were depicted, with a rudeness and nudity which would have extended the reputation of Pietro Aretino himself, the subjugation of the creature man to his sovereign mistress; and she arranged and stuck them all in her album.
It was a collection rich and rare. One coloured drawing represented a youth, in girl's clothes, tied to a whipping post, and being flogged by his pretty mistress, whilst her maid held up his garments. Mons. Priapus appeared as large as life, with a very red head. It would be endless to describe them all; this favourite one is typical of the rest.
I was always compelled to wear underneath my clothes Beatrice's underclothing, long stockings and drawers, and a tight corset. I was not permitted a valet. Beatrice's maid, Sophie, attended to my toilette. This attire and this maid had a very subjugating effect, but the effeminacy they invested me with, made me a complete dandy, and I was the envy of many men whose wives were always twitting them at being outshone by me.
The division-lists in the papers were a perpetual nuisance to me. Beatrice always knew how I voted, and I had to vote as her ladyship pleased.
Once I failed to do so-only once, and she discovered it at breakfast. That morning I had a particular engagement with my broker, but I was not allowed to keep it. I may mention I am never permitted to leave the house without her leave, but on that morning she was deaf to all explanations, entreaties, or expostulations, and she certainly looked most uncommonly beautiful.
"You disobeyed!" she exclaimed, with a look of thunder, and in corresponding tones. "You disobeyed me! I do not care for Government whips, or for any other whips; and I wonder that you should. I should have expected you would care only for my birch. Go to my bedroom at once and wait till I come."
Maud looked triumphant.
"I have promised to go to Old Bread Street, where I have a most particular appointment with Messrs.-, and I am to see the Manager of the Bank-."
"Go to my bedroom, do you hear?" she repeated, stamping her pretty foot, the personification of pretty anger and of righteous indignation, in her elegant morning gown, with roses at her throat. "You may well look sheepish! I will make your bottom smart for you! Go!"
I went. I have described so many whippings, that I will not narrate what occurred when she came.
Beatrice, I may mention, had a regular supply of birch obtained by her through someone who once upon a time advertised in the Saint James's Gazette. I think they came from Aberystwyth. More cruel, more cutting, more stinging birches I never felt. They made me howl, and she always pickled them first in her own urine.
Maud and my lady then went out to shop in their Victoria.
When they returned, she lashed me with her riding whip, making me dance and scream with anguish.
"Oh, Beatrice!" exclaimed Maud, unable to sit still.
"Do what you like, Maud."
Maud took hold of me, sobbing and protesting as I was, put me on the sofa underneath her, and administered some certainly very sweet consolation.
Beatrice frequently handed over my punishment to Maud; and Maud, on the other hand, never scrupled to have me whipped by making a request to Beatrice, whenever she had a complaint to make, or for any occult reason of her own she wished to have me birched. Women are very inventive.
One last instance of my subjection. I was ordered to go to Beatrice's boudoir. I went.
When she came I was deprived of my trousers, waistcoat, and coat. My petticoat-bodice even was removed, and my shirt, too.
She pointed to the ground in front of a low chair and I sat down on the floor. Taking up the album of which I have given a description, she whisked her skirts over my head, and sat down.
I-found she had removed her drawers; and while she amused herself, I had to kiss her. For quite two hours she insisted upon being pleased and amused thus. This is her construction of conjugal rights, and the bondage is the most severe imaginable: there is no escape.
I saw Mademoiselle and Julia, my daughter, shortly after our return. I am very proud of Julia, and so is her mother. She is a beautiful and as fine a child as children of love usually are, and I have settled ten thousand pounds upon her, which I did with huge satisfaction, feeling that I thereby gave society and its hypocrisies a nice slap in the face.
Mademoiselle did not condole with me though. She said she considered my discipline very wholesome, and when I expressed a hope that I should be some day emancipated and freed from the petticoat, with Beatrice's assent she put me in the corner for three hours with my hands tied behind me, my trousers down, and her red flannel petticoat over my head. At the end of the three hours Beatrice smacked me like a baby across her knee before Mademoiselle.
By this time I am resigned.
EPILOGUE
Ma femme est un animal
Original,
Qui tous les jours, bien ou mal
S'habille,
Babille,
Et se deshabille.
The petticoat, as administered by Mademoiselle and then by Beatrice, after all is said and done, I consider extremely beneficial.
A woman can make a man. In the first place she has the monopoly of the making, for she alone can conceive and give birth to him, and in the next place she can make him by discipline, by instilling her common sense into him, and by keeping him rigidly under her thumb. I do not believe that I should be what I am but for this education.
I confess-whether I shall be pitied for it or not-that I love my bondage and I love my tyrant. She has developed me intellectually and physically.
The physical compensations are so many and so great. There is a wonderful luxuriousness and sensuality in being made to bow down before a woman, and to perform her behests, which is not experienced when one takes the initiative one's self.
My lady's stockings and drawers upon me give me, whenever I am reminded that I wear them, an electrifying thrill through and through. And as for the management of affairs, well, they are much better managed by my wife than they could be by me.
Still there is something in me which assures me that man was made for more than the petticoat. This world is woman's earth, and it is petticoated all over. Theirs is the dominion, turn and twist the matter as you will. Therefore, I conclude there must be some other world where men will have a ruling part to play.