After I was again locked into that horrid chastity device at Daddy’s instigation, Alec and I never actually ended our relationship; he just said, “I’ll call you” which meant that he wouldn’t. I was no longer able to supply his needs so he went off to look elsewhere.
Then I got a call from Daddy inviting me down to the family estate in the West Country; it is a neo classical mansion set in huge grounds complete with stables, lake and the whole nine yards. I arrived mid-afternoon on the Thursday and our housekeeper asked me to go into the parlor. Mummy pushed off years ago with an Italian aristocrat; Daddy says the man is a real Count – or something like that.
To my surprise, I was greeted in the parlor by a tall, slim man who stood up and offered his hand to shake. He wore beige slacks with sharp creases and an open necked checked shirt and introduced himself as Paul. He said Daddy was on the encrypted line to Fort Bragg in USA. It was obvious that Paul was in the armed forces and he turned out to be a Major in the Royal Marines.
Because Daddy is something in the War Office, most of his friends are generals or admirals and he would not normally talk to someone as low as a Major but I guessed that Paul was something special – SAS or something like that.
For as long as I can remember, Daddy has been having off the record meetings with senior officers at our estate when he would spend hours in the lounge talking behind closed doors. I was very accustomed to middle aged officers staring at my boobs over the dinner table and sitting too close to me on the sofa or making little quips about liking a girl who is a “good sport”.
Paul was really good company and when Daddy joined us, Paul said that he would go off and look through the material they had been studying earlier. Daddy gave me his customary hug and we sat down for what was obviously going to be a serious talk. He began by saying that he had heard that Alec and I were no more. It was obvious that he had been spying on me and I was angry inside but there was no point in making a fuss as spying is what Daddy does and he had been doing it to me since I was in Primary School.
As we spoke, he casually picked up the TV remote control and the screen came to life with the sound muted. My mouth fell open in silent shock as I beheld myself in full HD color being fucked within an inch of my life on that workbench back in the house of pain and pleasure. I had no idea that they had cameras there but I suppose I had been naïve.
Daddy was saying that there was nothing wrong in a healthy young girl doing what was natural but I needed to be careful in my choice of men and immediately put an end to my recent string of unsuitable yobs. I could not argue with him as I knew that my choice of men had resulted in a long chain of failed relationships with low born boys who were drawn by the combination of a wealthy family and a willing pussy.
He told me to be honest and he asked me what I thought of what had gone on back in that house. This left me somewhat tongue tied as, on one hand it had hurt to be whipped and caned while handcuffed and hung from the ceiling and yet, there had been a tingle which had remained with me long after the event. At the end of a police drama, seeing the murderess cuffed and loaded into the back of the squad car made something react inside my knickers. All this had been awakened and enlivened by my recent ill treatment.
Usually in such dramas the female felon would be upper class, articulate and well dressed. And you know that she is now going to be taken away, strip searched, put into prison clothes and locked up in a cell as just another dehumanized criminal with her hair free of any clips or styling and straggling down around her face which has been wiped clean of any expensive cosmetics. If your mind is so inclined, you can imagine the former super confident lady being handcuffed whenever she is out or her cell and being led to her prison work placement. Showers will now only happen at set times and in a public shower area where she is made to clean herself in a long line of other women and under the eye of uniformed guards. Lady Amelia Forsythe will now become “Forsythe 763425” and when the whistle blows she must line up to be issued her weekly allowance of soap, toilet rolls and hygiene items.
That silver metal chastity grill locked between my legs had forced me to live like a nun for two weeks and when it came off at the house I had been like a bitch on heat and even the pain of my abuse had not dimmed that sexual force. In fact, the pain and humiliation had somehow mingled with all those sexual endorphins and contributed to the explosions, fireworks and loud sound effects.
I have no real memory of exactly what I said to Daddy and have no idea of how clearly I had explained my confused feelings but he stood up with the air of a man who has reached a decision.
“Right then. Look, I have to make a few phone calls to Whitehall. Could you keep Paul amused? Perhaps give him the guided tour of the estate?”
When Daddy said things like “could you” it was actually an instruction and it was only a few weeks ago that he had done some major string pulling to get me out of a Police cell after that drunken night when I had landed myself in deep trouble so I still had a debt to repay to him. And a few hours in Paul’s company actually seemed quite a good prospect.
Daddy went and fetched Paul who had donned a tweed jacket and then left us alone with me feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
“Daddy says I should show you the estate...I mean if that’s...if you want to…”
He gave a lovely warm little laugh and asked me to lead the way. Paul spoke easily and had that knack of making someone feel perfectly at ease. He also had the knack, common to most of Daddy’s friends, of talking a lot but never actually revealing anything about himself. We crossed the little bridge over the stream which feeds the lake and came to the stone summerhouse (built by the third Viscount in 1793). Paul asked if we could go inside the small structure.
Of course the summerhouse is never locked because it stands in our private grounds. It is south facing with a lot of glass windows so it was lovely and warm inside and the orange/cream paint adds to the feeling of warmth. It is always well stocked with blankets and assorted cushions. Paul hung his jacket over the back of a chair and we sat in a pair of the wooden chairs while looking out at the parkland. Paul knew that I had grown up around servicemen and was unlikely to blush at service humor. He told me it is such a pity that Special Forces are so poor in bed. When I asked why that should be, he was pleased to give me the punchline.
“You see, we are trained to get in and out without anyone knowing we have been there. It can leave a young lady feeling very cheated.”
Playing up to his innuendo, I said that I was sure I would be able to detect him if he had been getting into anything connected with me. That was when he reached into his shirt pocket and produced a tiny key. I could not believe what I was looking at because Paul knew perfectly well that I had seen that little key before. What I did not understand was how had he come to have it. Of course, you will have realized that he was holding the key to the little grill which was at that moment pressing against my pussy and barring entrance to all comers. I asked him if he knew what the key unlocked and, grinning, he replied that he very much did know. I then asked how he had come by the key and he said that Daddy had given it to him.
The last fact was sort of obvious but it rendered me speechless. I mean why would he? He gave him the key and then sent the two of us out to play. How would that conversation have gone?
“Behold my daughter. Go to it lad.”
Paul was clearly a practical man and he rose from his seat and began arranging random cushions and blankets on the floorboards. He was now kneeling in front of the soft bedspace which he had created and he made an inviting gesture with his hand.
“Shall we?”
Both Daddy and Paul must have known how desperate for sex I was without the regular ministrations of Alec or someone like him. I dragged my jumper up over my head leaving me in my flesh colored and brief bra and the two of us lay down together. Paul’s hand went behind my back stroking and soon found the bra clasp which he dealt with very expertly. Do you think they get special training at Hereford?
We went into a clinch as we explored each other’s faces and tongues. Our hands were also doing a lot of exploring and I found the zip and clasp on his trousers then undid his belt. Both of us were making urgent noises and I discovered that the Major’s weapon was to attention and ready for action. He had my jeans down and he dragged down my brief knickers so that he could use his key and unlock me. Once he had turned the key, the chains just fell off and he had to give a gentle pull to free the grill which had become embedded in my soft flesh.
I managed to work my undies off one leg so there was no barrier now and I loudly implored him to press home his attack which he seemed only too ready to do. Paul was magnificent and he filled me; he was very energetic, he had the perfect rhythm and he knew exactly where on a female body he needed to apply pressure. Unlike the fucks which I had back at that house – and unlike my usual sort of partner, Paul was in no hurry in fact he knew exactly how to prolong the ecstasy.
His mouth was alternately locked onto mine or exploring my nipples and sending electric shocks straight into the pleasure centers in my brain. He was stimulating me to tighten all those tiny muscles which are designed to clench around the male organ as it makes its ingress and egress. From the way that his body was shuddering and from the sounds he was making I formed the very strong impression that he was enjoying my responses as my back curved beneath him and my knees gripped his body to make it clear that he was not going anywhere for the foreseeable future.
I wanted to stay on the mountaintop forever but there was bound to come that point where we were lying in each other’s arms floating somewhere twixt waking and sleeping. We were still exchanging deep groans and I was breathing in his scent. There in the warm sunshine which was flooding in through the windows we both enjoyed a perfect long moment of total bliss.
And then the Royal Marines had rallied and were ready for a second assault which was every bit as magical as the first. After a second session of indescribable and unapparelled sex we both slept and, even when we awoke, it would have been somehow wrong for either of us to look at our watches. All I can tell you is that we must have spent many hours there in our private Heaven before we, somewhat wearily, got back into our clothes and made our very slow way back to the house still arm in arm. Paul had a certain amount of silver metalwork in his jacket pocket.
Mrs. Hudson had laid out a wonderful cold spread in the small dining room and Daddy asked Paul if he had enjoyed the grounds and the views.
“Very nice, thank you Sir.”
I discovered later that this was a prearranged code between the two of them and Paul had given the green light for the discussion which I had with Daddy later that evening.
I can remember that conversation so clearly as we sat there in those big leather armchairs facing each other. Daddy had a glass of Scotch and I had a dry sherry.
I won’t subject you to a verbatim account but, broadly, Daddy explained that sometimes His Majesty’s Government needs certain people to be entertained. This could be a matter of softening someone up or making him feel welcomed or it could be that sometimes men become indiscreet in an intimate situation and they may talk about things which otherwise they might keep secret.
This work is extremely sensitive. Can you imagine the headlines if we used a professional who boasted in the pub?
“What we really need is someone whom we know very well. Someone we can trust and who can be relied upon to do a really thorough job. It could be someone who baulks at the idea of conventional employment but who would like to feel she was serving her country and earning her quite substantial tax free income.”
Of course I am not the only girl on the books but I had just joined one of those departments of state which absolutely, positively, definitely does not exist.
