The Storm

Part 1

The Storm

By obohobo



"Storm force winds, gale force eight, force nine in squalls. Wind speeds
expected to reach sixty to seventy miles per hour. Some structural damage can be
expected. Blustery heavy showers. Temperatures down to four degrees Celsius but
with the wind chill factor it will feel like minus five." The Met Office
forecaster repeated the gloomy warning.

With mournful creaking and sighing as if despairing of the struggle, the roots
of the huge, majestic old oak that had tenaciously held firm for many centuries,
lost their grip in the rain softened soil. Slowly, seemingly with great
reluctance, the tree toppled to the ground with a tremendous thud. In doing so
its outstretched limbs brought down the overhead electricity and telephone
cables and its trunk straddled the road, completely blocking the cul-de-sac.
Fortunately only two bungalows were affected both with a single occupant. The
nearest to the tree, belonged to Janet Jones and the other to Eric Lebour.

Eric woke to the sound of rending wood as the old limbs broke under the impact.
He rightly guessed the old tree he'd climbed as a boy was gone. The thought
saddened him. "Better check the damage," he said to himself. Although his senses
and the absence of the comforting red glow from the digital bedside clock told
him the power had gone, he automatically tried the bedside light. Nothing.
Peering out of the window revealed nothing either. Blackness. No moon, no stars,
just the sound of high winds and lashing rain. Even without the power cut there
were no streetlights in this very rural village but usually, 'her next door,'
kept the porch light on all night.

Feeling his way to the kitchen he found a torch and then a box of candles. The
battery kitchen clock showed 2:36. "I'd better get dressed. Depending on how the
tree fell it may have hit Ms. Jones' house." Donning his yellow waterproof suit,
he took the powerful space lamp from his workshop and headed for the lane. The
rain had eased slightly but buffeted by the high winds, it was difficult to keep
a footing on the debris-strewn road. Slowly he made his way along. With the
space lamp he checked that his neighbour's house seemed okay as he passed and
then came to the tree and the still sizzling electric cables. Deciding he could
do nothing more until daylight, he returned home and tried to phone the Power
Company on his mobile. Their switchboard or call centre was already jammed. He
stoked the wood burner and returned to bed.

Daylight showed the extent of the disaster but from the radio he knew that
compared with some areas, it was comparatively minor. He called the Power
Company but again he couldn't get through. Swearing about the 'improved' system
of having central call centres miles from the actual areas affected, Eric
reviewed his own situation. It wasn't too bleak. His workshop was part of the
house and he could work from home although without the use of power tools,
things would take a little longer. Much of his violin making was handwork
anyway. Without the landline for the phone, he wouldn't be able to access his
emails, which was an inconvenience more than a disaster. He could cook on the
wood burner and this also provided the hot water and central heating. A small
generator would keep the freezer working. He'd installed it for just such a
situation. After losing a freezer full of food two power cuts previously, the
insurers had inserted a clause in the policy that didn't cover 'acts of God'
that resulted in power cuts. Therefore they now wouldn't pay for replacement
food so he'd decided to have his own insurance and bought a small generator that
would keep the freezer working and one or two small lights. The cost of the
generator was now less than his premiums would have been. In any case he was a
gadgets man and loved designing circuits and practical tools for making life a
little easier.

After breakfast he again donned his yellow suit and went out in the rain. The
wind, still very strong had abated a little. Apart from a few overturned bins
and two shrubs uprooted, his property seemed unscathed. From the front his
neighbour's looked in a similar state although there was no sign of life there.
He debated whether to call but thought she might still be abed. In any case she
was always very standoffish. At best she briefly passed the time of day when
they met with a quiet "Good Morning Mr. Lebour. She, like her mother, always
referred to him as Mr. Lebour and in turn he referred to her as Ms. Jones, only
finding out her first name when a letter was wrongly delivered to his address.
To him, it seemed she considered her status in life was far above his even
though they were of similar age, or so he guessed.

Probably this was the only similarity. Ms. Jones was always well dressed in
expensive clothes. Her hair always had that fresh from the hairdresser's look
and her carefully made up face gave the appearance of a photographer's model.
However, her job as personal secretary to the manager of a small local company
was by no means up market. When a visitor asked Eric about his neighbour, he'd
replied, "She's a hoity-toity bitch that probably has to open her legs for her
boss to keep her job." In that he was completely wrong. She was an efficient
secretary who the boss relied on to a considerable extent. She knew the
paperwork inside out and the first names of all the contacts and their immediate
relatives. Behind the upper class exterior, Janet was a shy person who didn't
make friends easily, a person who tried to keep herself to herself and not have
personal relationships with others, particularly with men.

Her mother, when she was alive, was not quite as bad but even she treated him
more like a workman than a neighbour. On a few occasions he'd been called to the
house to rectify an emergency. The first occasion, when the water inlet pipe to
the washing machine split and was spraying water over the utility room floor,
she tried to make him take payment and seemed very annoyed he wouldn't take any.
"It's just being neighbourly," he'd told her. She too called him Mr. Lebour,
never Eric and frowned when he called her Margaret instead of Mrs. Jones. With
her he assumed it was because being elderly and inheriting the customs
pertaining when she was a child. In the three years she'd lived there before she
died, Mrs. Jones never mentioned a daughter so it was with some surprise, Eric
saw her at the funeral. Only a few weeks later she moved into the house.

In complete contrast to the neat and correct appearance of his neighbour, Eric
dressed shabbily. His usual clothes were his dungarees, with a check shirt and a
cloth cap if he went outside. More often than not he wore slippers everywhere
except for going to the shops. His one and only suit, bought for a relatives
wedding years ago, these days only came out for funerals and fortunately for
him, they were rare events. The house reflected his appearance. It was clean
enough, but not neat and tidy. Beside his favourite chair was a pile of books
waiting to be read and on the table several magazines he studied while eating
his meals. Had she been asked Ms. Jones would have described him as "An uncouth
carpenter. Probably into drugs." Neither statement was true. Eric was a skilled
musical instrument maker and never touched drugs or even alcohol.

None of this bothered Eric as he walked the short distance along his lane. The
tree he could now see clearly, completely blocked the road. "When this rain
eases, I must get the chainsaw out," he said to himself, "This old tree should
give me enough firewood for several winters to come. I doubt the council will
come to clear it for a few days yet. If I cut some of the top branches, I can
push my bike round the stump and get to the village shop." Things still seemed
okay in the Jones' house so he returned home to get out of the wet.

Mid afternoon, the rain had more or less ceased but the winds still howled. With
an hour or so of January daylight left, taking his barrow and chainsaw, he
started cutting a few of the easier boughs from the old tree and carted them
home. The rain returned with vengeance. On his last trip in the now fading
light, he caught a glimpse of Ms. Jones running towards the back of her house.
"I'll park this lot in the garage and then see if she needs any help," Eric
decided. "She must be in some sort of trouble if she is going outside in this
weather. Hardly seemed dressed for outside." The sight that greeted him when he
walked to the back of her house would have been comical had not the situation
been serious. Ms. Jones, wet and bedraggled, was struggling to cover the gaping
hole where the bedroom window had blown in. The wind blew the undersized sheet
of cardboard out of place each time she offered it up and tried, with fingers
that were numb with cold, to tear a strip of tape from the reel to fix it.

"You need some help Ms. Jones." Eric stated matter of factly.

His voice startled her for a moment. "No, thank you," she replied as if he had
asked a question, "I can fix it when I can get this Sellotape to stick."

"Don't be dappy woman. You're wasting your time. The cardboard won't stand up to
the weather and the Sellotape won't stick to wet wood."

She knew he was right, but tired, cold and annoyed with herself, she turned on
him "And what would you know about it? I suppose your house is okay. You're
thinking to make out on this. I heard you stealing wood from the tree. You ought
to be prosecuted for looting."

Eric ignored the remark for the moment although the tone rankled him. "Move out
of the way woman so I can measure the window and get a piece of ply to fit."
Roughly he pushed her to one side and fished a metal tape from his dungarees.
"Thirty-one by forty-two inches." He repeated the measurement twice to memorise
it. "I'll be back in a few minutes. If you haven't fixed the cardboard by then,
I'll screw a board in place." It took nearly ten minutes to hand cut the ply in
the gloom of his workshop and drill holes for the screws. Ms. Jones had all but
given up her feeble attempt at fixing the cardboard and stood crying and
shivering in the cold. Rain had soaked all her clothing and her usually
well-coifed hair hung down in wet strands. Darkness had descended.

"Sorry, I'm being a trouble," she murmured, "I thought I could fix it."

"Hold the torch for a few minutes while I put the screws in and then you can go
inside and get warm." It was then he realised she probably couldn't. The house
was totally electric and the power was off and had been for fourteen hours. The
window had probably been out for most of that length of time too so the rain and
icy wind would have chilled the house completely. Ms. Jones didn't seem to hear
him but dully held the torch while he fixed the panel. "That'll do for the time
being," Eric muttered, "I'll take a look at the damage inside things must
be........" The torchlight flashed erratically over the wall and fell to the
ground. Ms. Jones was shivering without any control. Eric led her through the
back door into the house.

"Where's your dry clothes?" he asked but could get no coherent reply from the
shivering woman. "Early stages of hypothermia," Eric guessed. "Must get her into
the warm. This place is like an ice box." Locking the back door and pocketing
the key, he wrapped his arms under Ms. Jones' armpits and half carried her to
the warmth of his home.

"Sit there for a moment," Eric ordered as he sat the woman in a wooden Windsor
chair by the stove and lit the oil lamp hanging above the kitchen table. Eric
had readied it earlier in the day when it seemed the power was likely to be off
for a while. "Ms. Jones," he started, "Dammit I can't keep calling you that,
it's too long winded and it looks as if you'll be here for a while, Janet, I've
got to get these wet things off you to get you warm." The violently shivering
woman seemed to protest but was unable to make herself understood through
chattering teeth. Eric started to remove her saturated wet clothing. It wasn't
easy. Every so often she started to speak but nothing intelligible came out and
her arms feebly tried to push him away. Eventually he had her down to bra and
knickers. Did he dare go further or would she later accuse him of rape or
indecent assault? Eric left them for the moment and found some towels. Not the
soft fluffy towels she was used to, but good quality men's towels. Eric started
to rub and dry her hair. Janet feebly tried to grab the towel.

"Sit still Janet. Let the warmth from the stove penetrate inside. I'm certainly
not the first man to see your body and I doubt I will be the last. You may think
I'm a slob but if I hadn't come when I did you'd have been dead by morning. Even
your mother wasn't too proud to ask for help in an emergency, and that certainly
was some emergency." Soon Eric had dried her shoulders and arms. Her teeth
chattering continued intermittently and less violently than before and speech
came back slowly. Unfastening the bra hooks Eric removed it and started drying
her breasts. Despite being in her mid thirties they hadn't started to sag. It
had been a long while since Eric had had his hands on a woman's tits and hers
were nicely formed so the drying took longer than necessary.

"No, .. no..." Janet's voice stuttered.

The cold had hardened her nipples. Eric was tempted to kiss them but his lips
never came closer than a few inches. It seemed an instinctive reaction. Janet's
hand slashed out and her long finger nails gouged four lines across his cheek.
Blood flowed profusely down Eric's face although the scrapes were not deep.

"Bitch!" Eric spoke quietly after his hand had touched his cheek and he saw the
blood. "You'll pay for that. There's another way of warming you without a fire."
Wrenching her up from the chair and grabbing the band of her knickers, he forced
them downwards. Suddenly letting go she sat hard on the chair again and tried to
kick as Eric pulled her knickers off completely.

"No, please no. I'm ... er... Sorry. I thought you were going to...."

"You will be sorry, but not just now. In your state, you'd probably pass out on
me." Eric picked up the towel and vigorously and angrily dried the legs from the
feet upwards, paying special attention to the dark bush between her thighs. It
certainly didn't match the gingery colour of her hair. "I bet you've never had
your arse spanked, have you?"

"Mother... she used a belt when I was young."

"Well you'll get another dose in the morning. Think about it tonight. I've tried
to help you and even if you don't think much of me, a little thanks would have
been appreciated. A little common courtesy, but I suppose that would be too much
to expect from a bitch like you. Now put this on and see what you can do towards
helping making dinner." Eric gave her one of his Terry robes. "Have you much in
your freezer?"

"I really am sorry," Janet said tearfully, "I was so tired and fearful. The
freezer? Oh, about half full but it will spoil if this cut goes on for much
longer. I put blankets over the stuff."

"That's the most sensible thing you've done today," Eric muttered, "Peel the
potatoes while I take the barrow and move the stuff from your freezer to mine.
Looks like you'll be here for a while whether you like it or not."

Janet started to protest but Eric wouldn't hear of it. Secretly Janet was
miffed. "Why is he was so much more prepared for such an emergency than me?" she
asked herself. "Damn the man. Now I'm beholding to him. And he's threatened to
beat me. Perhaps I should make a run for it before he gets back. Can't my
clothes are soaked and my house is in no state to live in. I'll just have to
stick it out and do what I can to protect myself."

Conversation during the meal was limited. Janet stared blankly across the table
and made little attempt to speak. Inwardly though she had to admit the food was
excellent and welcome after having missed lunch. The hot food was doing her good
and lifting her spirits. Eric put her lack of communication down to her
aloofness but in reality, she was afraid of him. After the meal, Janet appeared
very tired. The food and warmth combined with the day's efforts and traumas were
catching up on her. "Bed for you young lady." Eric ordered as he lit a candle in
an old-fashioned enamel candleholder. Janet tried to object but didn't have the
energy. The candle shook in her hand and Eric took it from her and led her to
the bathroom.

Eric found a spare toothbrush but all the toiletries were for men, no make up
remover or facial scrub gel. Still there wasn't much left on after being in the
wet for so long. "Do what you have to do I'll be back in a few minutes," he said
as he left. Janet noted the bathroom door had no key in the lock but the door
would close. "He's seen all of me anyway," Janet murmured as she sat and peed.
Looking around in the flickering light she noted things were reasonably clean
without being highly polished. Eric knocked and entered. Pulling the robe
tightly around her she shakily stood and left the bathroom wondering what the
sleeping arrangements would be.

"That's your side of the bed."

"You're not sleeping with me.... Are you?"

"Yes. I'm not clearing the other room and making up the spare bed. In any case,
I want to hear if you have another shaking turn. I won't fuck you. You won't be
raped."

Janet winced at the use of the fuck word and only half believed him especially
as she could see the angry looking scratches she'd put across his cheek.
Nevertheless she was too tired to argue and crawled naked between the sheets.
Eric gave her arse a playful smack. "Ouch!" Janet cried, "Why?"

"Just to remind your bum of the attention it will get before breakfast," laughed
Eric. Instinctively he touched the scratches on his face. Janet put her head to
the pillow and almost immediately sleep overcame her. An hour or so later she
woke to the sweet sounds of a violin. Eric liked to practice for an hour or so
before he retired. For a while she wondered how such an uncouth man could
produce such beautiful music but before long Janet she was fast asleep again.

Janet woke. It was still dark but a small night-light flickered in the room.
Rain beat against the window. She felt the warmth of Eric's naked body sleeping
alongside her. "So far he hasn't touched me," she lay there musing and watching
the moving shadows as the light licked first in one direction, then another. "I
suppose I could try and escape. The window's fixed in my house.... No, it's
still too cold in there and he would come and get me, even if I could find my
clothes here. Still no electric. I can't get my car out because the road's
blocked. Much warmer in this bed, I wonder if he will take a belt to my bottom
before breakfast like he said? I'm sure he thinks I'm a real bitch. I shouldn't
have scratched him like that. What was I afraid of? Letting a man touch me again
after all this time? That rain is making me want to go to the toilet. Think I'll
try and slip out while he's still asleep. Wonder what the time is?" Quietly,
Janet slid out of bed, picked up her dressing gown, lit the candle from the
night-light and went to the bathroom. Still Eric slept on. He probably would
have continued to sleep had she not flushed the toilet.

"You're up early," Eric remarked as she returned to the bedroom, "Let me have
the candle, I need to piss as well." As she handed over the candlestick, Janet
saw him completely naked and sporting a full erection. She tried to look the
other way and slithered back under the bedclothes. Eric's erection had gone down
a little when he too got back into bed. "Only 4:22," he said, "You feeling
better now?" Janet grunted a nondescript reply. It didn't satisfy Eric. Gripping
her by the shoulders her turned her to face him. "I may be a rough sod in your
eyes, but I asked a question, one that concerned your well being. You could have
at least done me the courtesy of an answer." Janet's face was only inches from
his and, with the angle of the candlelight the scratches, now slightly raised
red welts, she could see them clearly. The lighting may have made them look
worse than they really were but they frightened her. Her body started shaking.
Eric repeated his earlier question. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes Sir," Janet stuttered.

"No need for the Sir, Jan. Are you cold?"

"No."

"You're shaking though. Guess you need a cuddle. Lie still while I blow the
candle out." Janet was about to protest, but thought better of it. She didn't
want to aggravate him any more. Moments later Eric's arms pulled her body
tightly against his. A small cry escaped her lips as she felt her breasts being
squashed against his chest, his stiffening prick trapped against her stomach.

"Ummm. That's nice. Haven't had a woman to cuddle like this since I repaired
Stephanie's violin. You may have seen her bright yellow little smart car parked
outside some weekends. Nice young thing," Eric reminisced. "Student at the music
school. Violin got dropped when they off-loaded it from a minibus. It was a
major repair job and would cost a lot of money to put right. I loaned her
another violin and she agreed to spend three weekends with me to pay for the
repairs. We had some fun those weekends. She wanted it all ways and I had
difficulty in keeping up with her."

"I don't think I want to hear about your sexual exploits with other women, thank
you very much. It's not nice."

"But I want to hear about yours. You've a beautiful body. Who usually gets to
view it?"

Janet blushed but knew Eric couldn't see it. "Please Eric," it was the first
time she'd used his name, "Please don't ask such questions. They're too
embarrassing. Please let go of me."

In response, Eric hugged her closer. She felt his prick twitch as it pressed
into her lower belly. "No Jan. There must be a reason for your being antisocial.
You never have visitors, or very rarely, so you must either have sex at work or
you're a lezzie, a lesbian or you're frigid. A woman who puts so much effort
into looking beautiful must do it for a reason. Which is it?" In the dark, Janet
shook her head. Eric smacked her arse, "I expect an answer Jan."

"Please.... please don't ask me those things. It's none of your business."

"Perhaps it isn't but I am going to make it my business. Had I not come by,
you'd be dead. Stone cold dead. There must be something that stopped you coming
here and asking for help. Was it that you are afraid of me? Or men in general?"

Receiving another smack, Janet decided she had to answer. "Both," she replied
then went on boldly, "You're rather intimidating, like now, but it wasn't only
that. I didn't want to believe I needed a man's help after...." She broke off.
It took Eric nearly an hour of continuous probing in the darkness before she
came out with the story.

"At college, when I was nineteen, I met a boy who paid special attention to me.
We went out together a few times and then after a party where I had a bit too
much to drink and tried a few drags on a cannabis cigarette, he took me to his
room. I spent the night and woke next morning naked in his bed and found dried
blood and semen on my thighs. I must have passed out soon after I got there.
Phil was naked alongside me. My moving woke him and he wanted to do it again.
When I refused, he muttered I was willing enough last night and if I wasn't
willing now, too bad, he was going to do it anyway. When I struggled he hit me
and then tied my wrists to the bedhead. I begged him to let me go but he just
laughed and straddled my chest so his penis was in front of my face, all hard
and stiff. "See this," he said, "This is what took your virginity and this is
what is going into your vagina a lot more times before you leave." He used much
cruder terms of course."

"You should use them too Jan, I may help you to get over the trauma of it and
shed some of your inhibitions. Do you fear I am just going to fuck you over?"

"I'm not sure about you yet Eric. You seem more of a caring person that I
thought before yesterday and I've been in bed with you all night and you haven't
yet raped me. I know you're strong enough and could have done so."

"I don't intend to rape you Jan, but I would like to fuck you. You can feel how
hard I am now. I shall try to persuade you but finish your story then perhaps I
will know, we both will know, what we're up against." Janet took a little more
encouragement before she went on.

"He put his thing, his penis, - his prick I expect you want me to say, to my
lips and forced me to open my mouth by holding my nose and made me suck him. He
then moved down and had intercourse with me. It hurt. I was very dry but that
didn't seem to matter to him. When I pleaded to use the bathroom he released me
from the bed but left my wrists still tied. He stood and played with my breasts
while I peed and did the other thing too. It was most embarrassing. More so when
he bent me over and wiped my bottom. Then he ordered me to suck him again. It
was still sticky but when I refused he squeezed my breasts until I did. For
breakfast he gave me some juice and then again made me suck him until he was
hard enough for intercourse. Over the weekend he must have had me at least eight
times. He didn't use any protection and I became pregnant. I did my best to
conceal it but in the end Mother spotted I hadn't used any pads and when I was
seven months gone, it became too obvious to hide. She was furious with me and
more or less disowned me. For a time I tried to make it up with her but after a
few years this was reduced to sending her birthday and Christmas cards. However,
when she was in the hospice she did ask to see me again. It seemed such a shame
to see her only when she was deteriorating with cancer.

After the row, I moved in with a girl at college who seemed to understand and
suggested I go to Phil and tell him and get him to agree to help financially. He
would have to anyway if I went to court over it. I anticipated he would be upset
but not the fury with which he hit me. Two hard punches to my stomach. I was
sick all over his floor so he kicked me and threw me out. Three days later, in
hospital recovering from the attack, I had a miscarriage. They had to operate
and I lost my ovaries so I can't have babies now." Janet broke down and wept
bitterly. Eric just held her close. For once he was lost for words and just
allowed her tears to flow down his chest.

After about a quarter of an hour, the sobbing died down. The first hint of dawn
began to show through the crack between the curtains. Rain still fell heavily.
"Jan," Eric started, "This may not be a good time to bring this up after what
you have just told me but I promised you a spanking before breakfast."

"No Eric please. You know why... I told you... Please don't hit me."

"Yes, I now have some idea of your feelings but there was no need to try and
hurt someone who was helping you, I still intend to punish you for that.
However, I will take into account what might be termed mitigating circumstances,
and reduce the punishment to a hand spanking and not use the belt. You won't
need to go to hospital afterwards but might find your arse a little tender to
sit on for an hour or two." Janet again pleaded for him not to do it but
inwardly knew he wouldn't change his mind. "Jan, when your mother belted you,
you knew you deserved it and lay over the chair or whatever and took the
punishment without being held down?" Janet nodded. "You should know that you
deserve the spanking I'm going to give you and I will expect you to lay over my
lap and lie there until I've finished. If I have to fasten you down, then I will
use the belt. Okay?"

"I could have you prosecuted for assault and put away like Phil was." Eric
thought he detected a note of humour in her voice.

"You could but you won't. By the time you could get to file charges there would
be no evidence whereas the evidence on my face would still be very evident. Now
let's have you over my lap."

In the growing light, Janet saw Eric's prick was once again fully erect. "Where
will he put that if I have to lay across his lap?" she wondered, "He said he
wouldn't rape me but how long will it be before his urges overcome his will?
It's much bigger than Phil's and probably would hurt more if he tries it. Must
get away as soon as I can." Her musing was short lived. Eric pulled her across
his thighs and positioned his cock between her legs.

"WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!!" Eric's hand came down rapidly and
forcibly on Janet's fulsome buttocks. "OOOwwww!!" she cried out, "You're hurting
me. Not so hard, Please."

"It's punishment. It's supposed to hurt." Eric continued to spank the writhing
woman. Her movements had the effect of massaging his cock and shortly he had an
emission. Spunk sprayed her bottom and thighs. "I'm sorry," apologised Eric,
"That wasn't supposed to happen. I couldn't help it. You're wriggling...." He
leaned over and grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped the mess off.

"I think I'd better go back to my own home and take my chances with the cold.
Might be safer than being with a pervert." Janet spoke bitterly.

"Your clothes should be dry so after you've had some breakfast you are free to
leave. I won't stop you, much as I would like you to stay. I will come over and
check on you from time to time though. When you are over there in the cold, just
think about what actually happened to you last night. Remember the good things
as well as the spanking and my failure to control myself. Remember how it felt
like to lie against me and be held close. Protected. Safe from the elements.
Cared for. How long is it since anyone cared for you?" Tears welled in Janet's
eyes but she said nothing.

Breakfast was quiet. Eric insisted she had warm food inside her and cooked bacon
and eggs but apart from polite answers to requests, the meal was taken in
silence.

The rain had temporarily ceased when Janet left. "Make sure you come over when
you feel cold or need some help. Better still pack some clothes and move in with
me for a few days. I shall be attacking the oak until it rains again. The trunk
is too big for me to cut but if I can clear some of the bigger branches, I can
get my bike passed and get to the shops. Need fresh milk although the powder
will do for a day or two." Janet set off to her own home without answering.

Mid morning, Eric stopped for coffee. He debated whether or not to call and see
how Janet was faring but decided to give her the chance of coming back to his
place of her own free will. When by lunchtime she still hadn't appeared, he
walked over and found the back door unlocked. Calling a greeting, he walked in.
Janet sat huddled in a chair, staring blankly at the mess of glass on the
bedroom floor and the soaking wet bed. Some large pieces of glass and wood were
stacked on one side. It was obvious she'd been crying but her tears had dried.
The house was freezing cold and so was she.

"Time for some lunch," Eric announced, "Stir yourself, you're coming back to
mine."

"No, no.... Just leave me. You're only going to hurt me. I might just as well
sit here and let the cold take me away from all this. Go away." Janet spoke with
resignation, as if she had already decided on her options.

"Janet Jones, get on you feet immediately." Eric spoke forcibly, "You are coming
to my place even if I have to carry you. There is no way I am going to leave you
here." Pulling Janet to her feet, Eric put his arm around her waist and headed
for the door. Feebly Janet tried to resist. "Do as you are told girl! I am
taking over your life. You don't seem to want it, so I will have it." Still
muttering Janet allowed herself to be guided to the warmth of her neighbour's
kitchen. "Take your coat off and sit yourself down." Eric placed a steaming mug
of tea in front of her, "Drink that Jan and then we'll have some tinned soup and
toast. No fresh bread and I forgot to take one of your loaves out of the freezer
and my breqd maker needs electricity." Normally Janet would only drink tea from
a cup and saucer but inwardly she decided it was easiest to do what he said and
pray he didn't beat her like Phil had. She could still feel the soreness in her
bottom when she sat on the hard chair but it wasn't really a problem.

"The cold wet weather is likely to continue for several more days. The winds
which decreased overnight will increase to gale force eight as another deep
depression moves to the south of the area bringing with it squally showers but
with glimpses of sunshine between. Temperatures remaining just above freezing
but feeling much colder in the northerly winds. With the wind chill factor, it
will feel more like minus six to minus eight."

"Another gloomy forecast," Eric commented, "And with power off to so much of the
county, it will be a while before they get to us. Henry Fairfield walked his dog
up to the tree this morning and said most houses on the main road had power but
the estate was off." Janet didn't comment.

"Look Jan," Eric went on, "You will have to accept you are living here at least
until your house is habitable again. While your here I shall treat you as a sort
of temporary wife. We'll eat together as now, we'll share the housework and ....
we'll sleep together. I shan't rape you but I will do all I can to get you so
aroused that you'll want to make love to me. To fuck. First though there are
practical things to do. While I finish cutting the last two boughs that prevent
me getting my bike around the tree, you will clear up in here and wash-up the
plates and stuff. I've already taken some chops and frozen sprouts from the
freezer to de-frost so we'll have them for dinner tonight. I should only be an
hour at the tree so afterwards we'll both go back to yours and sort out some
clothes and whatever you need to stay here for a few days. We'll also see what
we can do with your bedroom. If the launderette's working in town we may have to
take the bedding there, neither of us can use the washing machine but we can do
personal laundry by hand in the butler sink in the utility room. That sound
reasonable to you?"

Janet had hardly heard anything after he'd said she be his temporary wife but
nodded. She was passed caring. After being so cold again all morning, the warmth
of the kitchen was making her sleepy. Showing her where things were, Eric left.
Almost exactly an hour later he was back and noted the kitchen was cleaner and
tidier than it had been for some time.

"Wow, this place looks great," he exclaimed, "Thanks. Now we must both go out in
the cold again and see what we can do at yours before the light goes." Janet was
dreading going back to her depressing, wet, cold house but she put on her coat
and gloves and followed Eric. She seemed to have little will of her own and
relied on Eric giving her instructions.

While she packed toiletries in the bathroom, Eric cleared the glass from the bed
and floor and started stripping the sodden bed linen. It was then he found it
lying under the pillow. A copy of "Contracted to Serve." With the window
boarded, there wasn't too much light filtering through the doorway but he
immediately recognised the type of book as being from a specialty adult book
publisher. Eric entered the bathroom holding the book. "So you have a little
secret Jan"

Janet face was a picture of horror and misery as saw the book. For a fleeting
second she was tempted to deny all knowledge but knew that would quickly be
denounced. "Should I brave it out?" she thought but in the end she said nothing.
It was some minutes before she stuttered, "Eric.... I er..."

"Seeing her confusion, Eric stepped in, "It's okay Jan. I understand. You've
been alone for a long while. We'll talk about it later. Now you must have others
stashed away. Where? There could be some I haven't read." Blushing deeply, Janet
showed him her collection hidden under the bottom drawer of her tallboy. Tears
were once again running down her cheeks as she tried to explain but the words
wouldn't come out as complete sentences. "It's okay Jan, Eric repeated as he put
his arms around her in a hug, "In a way I'm glad. It shows you're not as frigid
as I had first thought. Now, finish getting what you need and I'll finish
clearing here as far as I can. The light's fading fast and the cold is beginning
to get through to me too."

Throughout the evening Janet was troubled as to what Eric might do later. He'd
stashed the books on the floor by his side of the bed and showed her where she
could put her clothes and stuff. Thereafter he'd been in normal friendly mode,
making her help with the cooking and clearing up. When all was done and they
relaxed cosily in the lounge in front of the crackling wood fire watching the
flickering flames. Janet tensed when Eric left the room and returned with a
handful of the books. Adjusting the Tilley lamp so he could read easily he
ordered, "Sit alongside me Jan and then we'll read them together."

"No, Eric, please. I don't want to read them here. They're private."

"Just bloody do it Jan." Eric voice was firm, "These books show you're not as
prurient as you've made out. I'm glad about that but we need to find out why you
are hiding behind that veneer of respectability. A veneer that nearly cost you
your life." Reluctantly Janet moved alongside him on the couch. Eric pulled her
close. "These books all deal with women being dominated one way or another.
"Contracted to Serve," "Aristocrat in the Harem," "Pirates Plaything," "M'Lord's
Maid," and all these others," he indicated the small pile still on the floor,
"Have the heroine forced to submit to her master or mistress and receive
punishment if she fails to do so. Deep down, I believe, that is what you wish
for too."

"No, no, you have it wrong," Janet protested, "I don't..."

"In the short time you've been here," Eric went on as though she hadn't spoken,
"You've responded best when I have ordered you and you've not had the will to
kick against it." Again Janet protested but was ignored. "I intend to find out
more Janet, for your sake and for mine too."

For a while, they sat quietly, the silence only broken by the snap of the fire
and the hissing of the pressure lamp. Eric thumbed through the books trying to
make up his mind how best to probe into her earlier life; Janet sat wondering
apprehensively what he was going to do next.

"Your choice of reading would lead me to believe you might subconsciously want
to be dominated," Eric started uncertainly.

"It's all fantasy. I wouldn't want the likes of you exercising power over me,"
Janet retorted.

"Perhaps, perhaps not Jan, but I think we ought to explore it further. Was your
father an overpowering man?"

"I never knew him."

"Your mother then?" This time Janet was silent. "Jan, look at it this way. When
was the last time a man, or a woman for that matter, held you close? Has there
ever been anyone? Phil?" Still Janet didn't speak but her eyes became very
liquid as though she was about to cry. "Okay, we'll leave it for the time being
but I will bring it up again later. Now I am going to cuddle you while we read a
passage or two from these books."

Thinking it would stop the questioning, Janet lay back and allowed Eric's arm to
hold her around the shoulders. "I'll close my eyes and let him read if he wants
to," she told herself. Unfortunately she hadn't reckoned on Eric reading the
passages aloud. He thumbed through "The Sins of the Father" and found a passage.



"Unhand me you oafs!" Lady Hatherway screamed at the two men dragging her along
the stone passageway of the old manor house. The servants ignored her pleas and
thrust her into a large room. Lord Mersham sat at on a low couch at one end. At
his feet knelt two plump near naked maids whose hands and lips played with his
exposed and erect cock while his lordship fondled their breasts.

"We've brought her as ordered Sire. Will you require us to stay?"

Before his Lordship could reply, Katherine [Lady Hatherway] shouted, "What is
the meaning of this Sir? I demand to be freed and returned to my father's home.
Your men have no right to abduct me like this and to treat my like some common
peasant. I am a lady of rank. Sir, I demand...."

"Silence wench!" Lord Mersham's roar startled Katherine, "While you are here you
will be treated as the lowliest bitch in this house. Your status here is far
below that of these two beauties."

"Sir, this cannot be so. I demand..."

"You are in no position to demand anything. You were brought here to show your
father that he cannot meddle in my affairs with impunity. He has incurred my
extreme displeasure, you are going to make up for that. I shall use you for my
pleasure. Now UNDRESS!"

"You cannot ask that of a Lady Sir. I refuse to remove my clothes in front of
you and these men." For a few moments as she watched, with disgust, the two
maids performing on their master, Katherine thought she had won her point.

"Very well, your Ladyship," then turning to the men, "Release her and bring the
stand."

"Now Sir, you will return me to whence I came without delay and I will report
your behaviour to..." The sound of a heavy wooden structure being pushed across
the floor distracted her. "What?" she started before once again the two men
pinioned her.

"Take a good look at the stand Katie," Lord Mersham deliberately used the
diminutive of her name, "It was made for recalcitrant young women like you. Our
carpenter made it from heavy oak timbers so it will not move. You will notice it
is not unlike a short table with the head and wrist clamps of a pillory at one
end. That's for your head and wrists Katie. Katherine struggled to free herself,
movements that caused his Lordship to chuckle. "You might just as well save your
energy for later Katie. There is no way you are getting away. Now look at the
finer points of the stand. See the cutouts just behind the head clamps. They're
for you titties and from what I can see of them under that dress these cutouts
are none to big for them. The flat table part is to support your stomach and is
just long enough for that purpose. Your legs will hang downward over then end.
Of course the leather straps are to hold you firmly to the stand while your
punishment is carried out."

"I haven't done anything to warrant any punishment. My father will hear of this
outrage."

"He will indeed. One week hence you will write him a letter explaining in the
goriest detail, all that happened to you. Maybe then he will realise he is up
against a man who will not hesitate to revenge himself even by using an innocent
daughter. But we are wasting time. Fasten her to the stand."

Despite Katherine putting up a spirited struggle, the two men quickly had her
lying face down on the bench and while held, Lord Mesham locked the top board
that clamped her neck and wrists. It was then a very easy matter to fasten the
ankle straps.

"Girls, come and remove this woman's clothing. Sebastian will cut them where
necessary."

"No! No! No! Please M'Lord," Katherine screamed, "Don't do this to me. I have
done you no harm. I beg you to release me."

His Lordship grinned. "Had you undressed when you were told, you would have a
complete set of clothes. To remove them now, we shall cut and shred them as
necessary. In any case you won't need them for a while. Servants don't wear such
finery."

Katherine continued to protest as her clothes were removed in tatters. Sebastian
fastened the strap across her now naked back and Richard used the thigh straps
to ensure her vagina and bottom holes were fully exposed. Sobbing now, Katherine
continued to beg, knowing it was hopeless, knowing she was helpless, knowing the
fingers probing her vagina belonged to his Lordship.

"A virgin as well Katie but not for much longer. Before you retire for the night
all your holes will have been well used." He removed his fingers. "My cane Ruth,
if you please." Quickly one of the maids ran and fetched it from behind the
couch. Standing in front of Katherine he swished it through the air inches from
her nose. She let out a piercing scream. "No point in screaming yet Katie. It
hasn't touched you. But soon it will. I am sure you've sent your maids to be
caned for some misdemeanour or other, now you have a chance to feel what they
went through. You'll now have some idea of the thoughts in their minds and they
lay helpless. Just as you are. Your lovely broad arse, unblemished white, but
soon to be criss-crossed with fire with this deadly piece of rattan cane. And
those tits of yours, hanging now like cow's udders. Imagine what they will feel
like when this little instrument is brought to them." Lord Mersham continued to
torment the helpless woman for a while. Each time he focused on an area of her
body he gently touched it with the cane. Soon he decided it was time for action.

Moving to one side he brought the cane down with considerable force on the
unprotected buttocks. Again Katherine screamed, certain in her mind that he had
split her flesh. Walking to the other side of the stand, he laid on a second
stroke. Thereafter each stroke was laid on alternately from each side until
she'd taken a dozen strokes and seemed near to fainting. Katherine's pitiful
cries were music to the evil Lord's ears. Rubbing his hands roughly over the
fire welted flesh he commented, "I seem to have warmed your arse but not the
inside of your cunnie. Ruth put your tongue in there and get her moisture
flowing. Sarah get your mouth around my cock and put plenty of spit on it."

"I think she's wet enough for you now Sire," suggested Ruth a few minutes later.

"Good, then get out of the way girl, I want to get in. Position my cock."
Feeling his cock opening her cuntal lips, Katherine cried out again but it was
no use. His Lordship thrust in and in a few minutes spent his seed inside her.
The stimulation he'd had from the girls earlier and the pleasure of caning the
woman had caused him to cum quicker than he wanted. "Leave her like that and
I'll have her again as soon as I'm ready. You men can have the pleasure of her
mouth and if she shows any desire to use her teeth, then we'll give her tits a
little tickle with the cane."

Sebastian needed no further invitation. His cock was already hard as he poked it
to Katherine's lips. Vaguely she knew what she was expected to do and opened her
mouth. The cock entered but that didn't satisfy Sebastian. "Suck it bitch," he
yelled at the same time twisting her nipples.

Half an hour later Katherine was still helplessly fastened to the stand. Her
arse was on fire and her cunt sore from the rogering. She wasn't screaming now
though. At first she'd yelled at the top of her voice hoping to gain some
sympathy but Ruth had come to her and said quietly, "Katie, you must quiet. I
have been instructed to cane your bosoms if you make too much noise. If I don't
then I get the cane so either you calm down and wait for his Lordship to come
back and fuck you again or you yell because I am putting stripes across your
titties. I'm not going to get the cane because of you. Sorry, I do know what it
feels like to be caned like that."

Katherine did her best but couldn't help groaning a little from the pain and
cramps in her neck. The taste that still lingered in her mouth was revolting, or
so she thought. They hadn't allowed her to spit the men's seed out and for a
while she tried not to swallow so the taste had stayed on her tongue longer than
necessary.

"You didn't need to use the cane then Ruth?" Lord Mersham had returned with
Sarah a few steps behind.

"No Sire, She didn't seem to fancy having her udders tenderised."

"Perhaps she's beginning to learn her place in this household. Still I would
like to see them tickled a bit. Lightly stripe them while I watch. Perhaps
watching and with Sarah's help I shall get hard enough to plant some more seed
in her womb." Ruth knew her master's idea of lightly and brought the cane
smartly across the top of Katherine's left breast as it hung below the stand and
then while it was still moving, caught the underside. Moving she treated the
other breast. Her victim lungs hollered their disapproval but to no avail. After
the tenth repetition, Lord Mersham deemed himself hard enough to enter
Katherine's cunt again. It took longer for him to satisfy his lust this time. He
took the greatest pleasure in ramming his cock in as hard as possible so
Katherine felt only pain and no pleasure.

"Get cook," he ordered Ruth and when the rotund woman arrived he went on, "Cook,
this is Lady Katherine Hatherway. While she is here she will be known as Katie
and she will be a servant like the others in this household. The lowest of the
servants here. Set her to do the most unpleasant and menial tasks and punish her
if they are not carried out to your satisfaction. The other servants may use her
as they wish except that her cunnie is for my use only. You will put a chastity
belt on her and warn all the men their pego's will be in great danger if I find
out it has been inside her. When her belly fills with a bastard child, I want to
know it is mine. Have her bought to my room night and morning for impregnation.
She can sleep in the communal bed with the other maids."

Cook unfastened the straps and led her sobbing to the kitchen."



Eric, seeing Janet's eyes were glazed, paused in his reading, unzipped her jeans
and pushed his hand inside. Her knickers were soaking. "You can't deny that
turned you on Jan."

"Damn you Eric. Damn you."

Believing he wouldn't get any further with her for the moment, Eric made them
both a hot chocolate drink and suggested they went to bed. "Just because you
read me that story and turned me on..."

"Got you horny!"

"Just because you did, doesn't mean I will let you have me. I brought my
pyjamas."

"But you won't be wearing them." Eric's voice was firm. "You will sleep naked
like last night. I said I wouldn't rape you, and I won't but I will do
everything I can to make you agree to my fucking you."

"And I will resist."

"Even after a good spanking?"

"You wouldn't dare."

The challenge was too much for Eric to resist. Seeing the look in his eye, Janet
tried to cover up the error of her words. "I didn't mean it like that Eric, I
really didn't mean to dare you to do it. Please don't"

"Oh yes you did M'Lady and now you will have to submit to wicked ways of the
master of this household. Undress!" Eric tried to mimic the voice he'd used when
reading the earlier passage. "Or do I have to tie you down and cut your clothes
from you?"

"No, please, this is not fantasy. I'm still sore from this morning."

"Oh but it's my fantasy Jan, - and it's about to come true. Maybe it's yours
too. That we shall find out also. This isn't a punishment spank like this
morning's." As Janet tried to run from him, Eric managed to grab the waistband
of her jeans and pull her to him. I think I'll do it out here in front of the
fire. The fight Janet put up was brief but quite spirited but the outcome was
never in doubt. Janet ended up lying over Eric's lap with her jeans and knickers
pushed down below her knees effectively pinning her legs. With his left arm
across her back and around her waist, Eric kissed the exposed well-rounded
buttocks. "Umm, nice," he murmured and after rubbing her bum cheeks and then
pushing his fingers in her crack went on, "Still nice and wet too."

"Don't, please Eric, don't," Janet pleaded but from the tone Eric suspected she
didn't really mean it.

"I think a round hundred smacks, Jan unless you plead for me to take you to bed
and fuck you before then." A hundred, he knew was many more than he expected to
deliver or even wanted to, but he hoped she would capitulate before he reached
anywhere near that number.

"You bastard!" It was the first time Eric had heard her swear. "You know I won't
be able to hold out for that many. You're sadistic, just like Phil."

"No, Jan. The difference is that I want to give you pleasure, not just hurt you
and take all the pleasure for myself. Ready? Remember I will stop as soon as you
ask me to fuck you." With that Eric brought his hand sharply down. A red
handprint appeared on her left bum cheek quickly followed by one of the right.

"Stop it! Stop it" It hurts."

"Of course it does dear. It's meant to. Asking me to stop will have no effect.
You know the words to do that." Eric's hand plied relentlessly between both
buttocks. "Twenty," he said, "Eighty to go."

"Eric, please, no more." Again the tone of her voice belied the words, as did
the way she rubbed herself on his hardening prick. So the spanking continued.

"Thirty. Seventy to go. Not halfway yet." The soreness was now getting worse and
Janet guessed she would have to give in soon. In one way she wanted to, but she
didn't want to make it seem as if she was giving in too easily. His hand wasn't
as painful as her mother's belt and he wasn't hitting as hard as he did earlier,
but she was taking more spanks and the warmth was making her even wetter.

"Forty." Sixty to go. Still not halfway."

"Okay, you win. Take me to bed and do it you rapist." Janet's voice was very
quiet.

"Are you asking to be fucked?"

"Yes," she whispered. Eric picked her up and kissed her fully on the lips. Janet
didn't resist.

"Jan, I want this to be a fun thing for both of us so I'm not throwing you on
the bed and plunging straight in. First we'll undress each other. We've seen
what we each look like but now we'll explore a little more. Slowly Janet's
nervousness began to recede as Eric gently removed each item of clothing and
played with the area exposed. At first she just took off an item of his clothing
and put it on the bedside chair but when his prick jutted out, naked and free at
last, he took her hand and clasped it around the shaft. Shyly it seemed, she
allowed it to remain there and gently began to stroke it.

"I presume the master wants to have his wicked way with me now." Her voice
trembled as spoke. Eric couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement. Probably a
mixture of both.

"Lie down Jan. We both need this now. Don't pretend otherwise."

"Go slowly Eric please. It's been a long time."

Eric did, realising that if he did it right, it could be the first of many
times. In fact in the last few days, he'd grown to like this woman who until the
storm he'd regarded as being stuck up. Now he was certainly sticking it up her,
and she was enjoying it.

"Thanks," she said when it was all over, "I never thought a man could make me
feel like that. Not after all these years of having to make do by myself." Eric
just kissed her and pulled her body tightly to his.

Finis