"You're teasing me now. You must know yourself."
She smiled. "Yes, I'm teasing you a little. The birch is the worse."
"Then let's start with the cane."
"All right. You're the employer-but once I start, I'm the boss. You must know that."
He hesitated.
She said quickly: "Let's have a statement of the situation. You are my employer, and I am the governess of your children. You are my boss, that is to say. I shall never forget it. But you are also a masochist and I am a sadist, and whenever we nave any games of flagellation together, I am the Boss-and you will not forget it. How about that? Do you agree?"
"I agree most willingly," he said, feeling a deep peace within him. "Let us say this. If you have not a cane or a birch or something in your hand I am your employer and your boss. But the moment I see a cane or something in your hand I shall know that you are my boss."
"And you will obey me?"
"Yes."
"In everything I say?"
"Yes, everything."
She reached out for the cane and the birch which he was still holding. "Then take down your trousers."
"Now?"
"Now, this second."
"What about the servants?"
"Tell them you're not to be disturbed."
He smiled. "With my trousers down?"
She smiled back. "No. Do that first."
"But I thought you said we'd go to my bedroom."'
"We shall, don't you worry. I just want to give you six of the best here in your own study first. Ring the bell."
He went to the fireplace and pressed the bell-button. She hid the cane and the birch under the newspaper on the armchair in which she had been sitting.
Within a minute the manservant entered the room.
Per Petersen looked at him. "I don't want to be disturbed for anything."
Margarete moved towards the door. "I'll say goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, Miss Hansen." He watched the manservant hold open the door for her, nodded to them both, and sank down into his chair, his heart pounding furiously.
She was back in three minutes. "Did you think I'd gone for good?"
"No, I didn't think that. I knew you'd wait till the coast was clear."
She went to her chair and pulled aside the newspaper. She picked up the cane. "You'd be surprised if you knew how often I've wanted to beat you with this."
"Have you indeed? And you'd be surprised to know how many times I've stood at that window listening to you doing it to the children, and wishing I could be in their place."
"I wonder whether you'll say that in five minutes' time. Go and lock the door."
He got to his feet and went to the door. He turned the key.
She waved the cane like a flag as he turned back to her. "It's nice being the boss for a change. Take off your trousers."
"Off? Not down?"
"Off." She had meant to say "down", but she had to assert herself. "Take them right off, and your pants too. That'll do for now. Upstairs I'll have you completely naked, and I'll give you such a beating!"
Every word she was saying was like a sexual symphony to him. He undid his trousers, pushed them down to his ankles, pushed his pants after them, and kicked his legs free. His great erection stood out from under his shirt.
"Goodness!" she said, and took it in her hands. "What a mighty thing this is. But I'm going to knock it out of you with my cane and my birch."
"I doubt whether you can."
"We'll see. Lie down over the arms of your chair."
He turned to his chair and placed himself carefully and comfortably over its arms. She lifted his jacket and the tail of his shirt free from his bottom She noticed some marks on his skin. "These are old weals," she said. "Who gave you them?" She had begun already to feel possessive about him.
"Oh, nobody who lives here," he said, sensing her feeling and thinking how quaint it was that she should so soon be jealous. "A German girl who lives far, far away."
"Not that publishing woman from Munich?"
"Yes," he said, marvelling at female perception. "However did you guess?"
"I knew she was a sadist the first time I met her here."
"How?"
"I don't know how. I just knew." She ran her hand lightly over his bottom. "So she gave you these, did she? When was it?"
"About three months ago."
"It must have been quite a thrashing for the weals to be showing still. What did she use?" She put a hand beneath him and played with his penis and testicles.
"A switch," he said, stiffening at her touch. "A whalebone riding switch."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"So and so."
"I'll get a whalebone riding switch tomorrow," she said, determinedly. "I'll show you. When is she coming again?"
"The day after tomorrow, I think."
"Oh!" She opened her mouth to say more, but shut it abruptly. She had no right yet to be so possessive. She would have to wait a little. "Oh, is she indeed?"
"Yes, but you mustn't be angry about it. If I'd known about you being a sadist I wouldn't have asked her to come."
"Is she coming especially to thrash you?"
"Dear me, no. She's coming on business to see Franz- Ruller-of all people!"
She laughed. "Is she really? That's rather rich." She gave another tweak to his penis and stood erect. "And now for six of the best. Six of my own best, at any rate. But I must have something to thrash you for. I always like to have a reason. Let me see." She stood for a moment with her lovely head on one side. "Of course! I shall thrash you for taking so long to tell me that you are a masochist. You've made me wait so long! Most of your thrashings in the next few days will be for that."
"The next few days! Are you going to thrash me every day, then?"
"Of course. As soon as I've thrashed the children every evening I shall thrash their father. And at any other time of the day that I can find the chance."
A warm flood of pleasure flowed through him. Life was going to be rather pleasant. If, that was to say, he could find the strength to endure the actual thrashings. It was always the same with him. He ached for them to start, and when they were over he ached for them to happen again. While they were actually happening, however, he usually screamed for them to stop. Marlene Reitter from Munich always gagged him and took no notice. He wondered what this girl would do.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her lift the cane.
It flashed down across his buttocks and bit into the flesh. She had hit with a good deal of strength. He gave a sharp strangled cry.
"Ssshh!" she said. "You mustn't make any noise." She lifted the cane again, and brought it down once more with all her force. He forced himself to make no sound, but the stroke hurt him very much.
She delivered the next four strokes very quickly and as hard as she could. She threw down the cane and sank into her chair. "Oooh, that was nice," she breathed. "It's a long time since I was able to let myself go."
He let out his breath gradually. Waves of pain coursed through him. "You don't hit the children like that?"
"Of course not. What do you think I am?"
"A sadist."
"Yes, but not that sort of sadist. Not with children. Only with big, grown-up men like you." She put her hand beneath him again and took hold of his penis. It had lost some of its stiffness during the thrashing but now, at her touch, it re- erected at once. "Turn over on your back," she said.
"You're not going to thrash my front, are you?" He sounded nervous.
She laughed. "I most certainly am, but not now. Now, I want to put this nice hard piece of bone in my mouth. Would you like me to?"
"Yes!" he said. "Yes, please." He turned over on the arms of the chair and pulled up his shirt. His penis towered upwards.
She knelt beside the chair and put the cane on the floor. She took the birch in her right hand. "Perhaps, after all, I might warm you up a little at the same time." She laid the birch lightly over his legs, a little above his knees. "Wouldn't you like that?"