The Cure
by obohobo
Chapter 1. The Wino
"Get up! Move on! We don't want you tramps and wino's in our village." The major
kicked the heap of cardboard lying in the shelter of the pedestrian tunnel under
the main road.
The major, John Padham, still only 50 years old had retired from an eventful
life in the army, kept his title as it seemed to give him status in the village.
It was nearly 10pm and he was cycling back from a charity committee meeting
where old Mrs. Bradley had waffled on until in the end nothing had been decided.
Always wanting action, the major was not in the best of moods for his return
ride home. The fact that it was now raining and he hadn't brought his cape added
to his ill humour. He could, of course, have taken the car but by cutting
through the pedestrian tunnel, it was little more than half a mile by cycle
whereas the circuitous route to the main roundabout and back to his home was
around five miles. Being a committed environmentalist he also tried to use his
cycle on shorter journeys.
"Get up! Move yourself!" the major barked again.
"Wha a a t? L e a v e me be." The top of a tousled head and one eye appeared
over the rim of a cardboard box.
"You can't sleep here. Get up and move on before I call the police. We don't
tolerate down and outs in this village."
Slowly the pile erupted and from it a middle aged women appeared. "My God!
What's a woman like you doing out here on a night like this?" enquired the major
in a tone that suggested disgust rather than sympathy.
"Wha aa t's it to you?" The woman reached for a bottle and took a swig of its
contents. Her slurred voice and sloppy actions indicated she had already spent
some time swigging the bottle.
"Just move. You're filthy and drunk. Lying here you'll be a menace to anyone
using the tunnel."
Muttering and moaning the woman rooted around in the card and fetched out a few
rags. It took several attempts before she could pick up her bottle and get
shakily to her feet. "I'll go your way," she mumbled, "It don't make no
difference. I've got nowhere to go to."
Watching her erratic movements for a few moments, the major picked up his cycle
and followed the woman at a discrete distance. The woman looked a sorry sight. A
pathetic figure with all her possessions in a bundle of rags. He guessed she was
in her late thirties or early forties, filthy dirty and smelled of body dirt and
alcohol. How had she been reduced to this state? The major pondered the question
and then began to wonder if he could do anything about it.
Emerging from the tunnel John found that in the few minutes he had waited, the
rain had started in earnest and was now coming down heavily. The woman turned to
him and spat, "You bastard. It wasn't warm but at least it was dry in there.
'Spect you have a dry warm house to go to. I've just got to find somewhere to
lay down and hope no other sod like you comes by." She started singing a
tuneless song which gradually increased in intensity. "The whole village will
know now," thought John, "I wonder.........?" His mind returned to India. "Yes,
maybe I'll try it."
********
John lived in what had for centuries been a pub but in the early nineties, the
landlord refused to allow it to be taken over by a brewery chain and also
refused to go down the route of serving meals. He was going to keep it as a
traditional pub, a pub for drinking people. Unfortunately it wasn't what the
public wanted and eventually the liquidators moved in, closed it down and sold
it for conversion into a house. It was situated on the outskirts of the village
and a few hundred yards from the main group of houses. For one person to live
in, it was rather large but it had character and charm and a 'presence' that
John considered went with his title of 'major'. His army pension and the
dealings he had done while in the service, provided more than adequate finance
to maintain and restore the building. Early in his career John had married but
with so many of his postings being abroad to situations where he couldn't take
his wife, the marriage lasted only three years. Fortunately there were no
children.
"Woman," barked John when they reached his home, "You will spend the night
here."
"Who says I will?"
"What choice do you have? Spend this cold September night out in the rain and
get pneumonia or maybe get arrested and put in jail or spend the night in a warm
house? You will have to have a bath and get cleaned up but you will have to
empty that bottle down the drain."
"You got something better then?"
"Yes, but you will not have any alcohol while you are in the house. That's an
order. If you want to come in the house empty that bottle on to the road." There
wasn't much left so the woman thought, "What the Hell, it might be worth it for
a clean up and a night in the warm. She emptied the bottle.
John showed her into the kitchen. "Take all your clothes off and put them in the
washing machine." As a major he always gave orders expecting them to be obeyed.
His voice carried this authority to the woman. For a moment only, she hesitated
but then thinking, "Why not. He's unlikely to want to fuck with this dirty old
bag of bones." She undressed to her threadbare knickers and bra. As she did so,
John loaded her clothes in the washing machine. All of course except for her Doc
Martens boots. They too were completely wet but looked nearly new. He stuffed
the boots with newspaper and stood them alongside the AGA cooker to dry out
without loosing their shape.
"Those too, they are just as dirty as the rest and you are not going to wear
them in the bath." John took in the sight of the woman in front of him. He noted
her matted mousey coloured hair, the way her ribs showed under her full if
somewhat sagging breasts but what really caught his attention was her staring
blue eyes. At the moment they were dull and lifeless but he thought they could
well be attractive if and when she recovered from the booze. He knew he was
going to have to try.
"Upstairs to the bathroom." It was another order. She obeyed. He sat her on the
toilet and while he ran the water for the bath she relieved herself. It was the
first time for nearly a week that she hadn't just squatted down behind a hedge.
"Okay, in you get." He had added Babybath to the water and this created a
surface foam into which the woman sank. Her first bath for many weeks although
she had showers a couple of times at the drop-in centre. She closed her eyes and
let the warmth of the water and steam flow her. Her mind drifted and she dozed.
John returned to the kitchen made mugs of hot chocolate and some sandwiches, and
brought them back to the bathroom. It amazed him how quickly the woman devoured
the food. While she sipped the chocolate he decided to question her.
"I'm John but most people call me 'Major'. What's your name?"
"Paula. Paula Simkins."
"How do you do, Paula," John thrust his hand out, gripped Paula's and shook it.
Paula was startled by the grip but shook it off and replied, "Pleased to meet
you, I'm sure."
"Now that we have been formally introduced," John continued, "First we'll get
the dirt off you." He rolled up his sleeves, soaped a sponge and started to wash
Paula's back. Gradually he worked his way to her breasts and down and between
her legs. It was a clinical wash with no attempt at sexual titillation but all
the same he did feel around her cunt area and noticed a little response from her
nipples when he did her breasts.
"Paula, you may be half drunk but I am sure you are wondering what is going to
happen to you. Let me first assure you that I am not going to rape or murder
you. In the morning you will be free to go on your way if you wish. However,
tonight you will be sleeping in my bed mainly because I have no intention of
making up another bed for you at this time of night. But the bed will just be
for sleeping in. I shall not attempt to fuck you. If you wish to stay for
another night there will be the same sleeping arrangements but I may well try to
have sex with you. You can decide in the morning and we will go through it again
when perhaps your brain is more in gear. There is one condition to your being
here. You are not and I repeat NOT to drink any alcohol. No beer, wine or
spirits or any kind. Not even a sip. If you break that condition they you will
be disciplined. Is that clear Paula?"
Paula nodded but John wasn't very sure she completely understood. He would
explain it again in the morning. She would sleep through the night after having
consumed so much raw spirit already.
He washed Paula's hair and then helped her from the bath. She looked and smelled
so much better now the grime was gone. Producing a large, soft towel he dried
her, this time paying more attention to her sexual parts but still not trying to
stimulate her in any way. Leading her to the bedroom he indicated which side she
was to sleep and tucked her in. By the time he was ready for bed she was fast
asleep.
*********
"Clunk." A slight sound from downstairs awoke him. Opening his eyes he noted the
time on the digital bedside clock, 3.05. Reaching over he found the space
alongside him empty. He quietly crawled from the bed, slipped his feet into a
pair of slippers and picked up his dressing gown from the peg behind the door.
Quietly he made his way downstairs. He'd left the landing light on in case she
had wanted to find her way to the bathroom at night but now the kitchen light
was on as well. Paula, still naked, was at the table drinking from a bottle of
cooking sherry.
"Put the bottle down Paula!"
"Uh, why? Its better than I have been drinking." She waved the bottle around
before finally setting the bottle on the table.
"Paula, do you remember what I said to you last night? About drinking alcohol.
No? Well to refresh you memory, I said the one condition of your staying here
was that you were not on any account to drink even one spoonful of alcohol. I
also went on to say that if you did you would be disciplined. You have broken
that condition and now I am going to punish you."
"Oh yeah. Whattcha goo'in to doo? Spaaank me?"
"Exactly. That is exactly what I am going to do. Think yourself lucky it is only
going to be a spanking this time."
"Yoouu wouldn't daaare." Her voice was very slurred.
John went to a drawer and took out a tea towel. Grabbing her wrists he tied them
together with the towel and then lead her to a trap door in the floor by the
stair well. Opening it and flipping a light switch, he ordered Paula down the
stairs that lead to the cellar. John had plans to make it into a workroom but at
the moment it was a temporary storage area until he finished decorating and
rearranging the upstairs rooms. The opening to the cask door to the outside
pavement had been bricked up to prevent intruders but otherwise it was largely
unchanged since its day as a public house. The wine racks were still in place
but held only a few bottles of wine that John kept for guests and there were a
couple of old wooden barrels that John hoped one day to convert into seats. Most
of the remainder was items picked up at sales and kept in storage until given a
permanent room.
Paula began to look frightened now, and when he closed the trap door on them she
cried, "Nooooo. I couldn't help it. I needed a drink."
"If you stay here Paula, from now on having a drink will be a painful
experience." Sitting himself in a wooden chair, he pulled Paula across his
knees. She tried to struggle but with her hand tied and still somewhat drunk
resistance was futile. John removed one of his slippers and brought it down
across the bare flesh of her arse with a resounding CRACK.
"Yooowww," Paula howled. The sound was hardly out of her mouth before the second
and third strokes landed. Kicking her legs, Paula tried unsuccessfully to roll
away from the blows but John's strong arms held her tight. "Your senses may be
dulled by the drink, my dear, but I still think you can feel this slipper and
will still feel the effects of it come the morning." He laid the slipper on her
arse with vigour. Being somewhat undernourished, there wasn't much fat on the
bones so he didn't hit with his full force. Even so, her arse cheeks soon became
a rosy hue and very warm to touch and he decided she had had enough for the
first time.
Between sobs Paula called John all the bastard names she could think of but he
responded only by holding her tightly over his lap. Her wriggling though had
given him an erection, something that didn't go unnoticed by Paula who then
started calling him a pervert. Still he held her until she quietened down
somewhat.
"Paula, I hope you got the message this time. Drink means pain. I am going to
take you upstairs again now and perhaps we can get a few more hours sleep."
"After you've fucked me I suppose, you pervert."
"Paula, one thing you will find out about me is that I keep my word. I said I
wouldn't rape you and I won't. I also said I would punish you if you touched the
booze and I did. It works both ways. Now get up those stairs."
They stopped at the bathroom. His erection had partially subsided and he was
able to piss into the pan without difficulty. Paula watched in silence. It had
been a while since she had seen a cock. "Do you want to pee?" John asked. Paula
nodded. "I'll hold you so you don't have to sit on the hard seat." "I'll manage,
pervert," she retorted but didn't resist when John put his arms under hers and
gently lowered her to a crouching position over the pan. This brought his cock
against her belly and it started to recover some of its hardness but he tried to
ignore it.
Once again he took the tearful girl to his bed. Her hands were still fastened
with the tea towel. John ferreted around in a chest in the spare room and
returned with a pair of handcuffs, a relic from his army days in India. "Paula,
I didn't want to have to do this, but for your sake and mine I am going to make
sure you don't cause yourself or me any harm for the rest of the night." With
that he removed the towel and fastened one of her wrists to the rail of the iron
bedstead with the handcuffs. With her restrained he replaced the bedclothes and
climbed into bed himself. It was 3.55.
*****
John didn't sleep well for the rest of the night. Paula was understandably
restless but both dozed off sometime around 5 am. He awoke and got up at 6.30,
half an hour later than normal, did what he had to in the bathroom and then made
tea. Clearing a space on the bedside table for the tray woke Paula. "Mornin'
Paula. Lie still while I remove the handcuffs." Paula, who had been sleeping
face down turned over and remembered why she was sleeping face down. She very
gingerly sat up.
"How do you feel?" John thought she looked awful.
"Lousy, what do you think! I've a sore head and a sore arse and a sore wrist.
How would you feel?"
"Have some tea and I'll get some aspirins. Do you want to use the loo?"
"I'll manage on my own." She did although it was painful to sit on the hard
seat.
John had removed his dressing gown and was sitting up in bed when she returned.
They drank their tea almost in silence each not knowing how to begin to ask the
questions they wanted to ask.
When both empty mugs had been replaced on the tray, John put his arm around
Paula's shoulders and gave her a hug. "Time to get up now young lady," he said
gently pushing her out of the covers.
"Do I have to?" Paula moaned. The warmth of the bed and the softness of the
sheets were a luxury to her, a luxury she hadn't known for some weeks. He pulled
her naked body to his and took her into the bathroom. Looking into the bathroom
cabinet he found a spare toothbrush for her then sat on the loo and performed
and watched while she washed and cleaned her teeth. The sink being next to the
toilet, of necessity brought her colourful arse close to his face. She flinched
as he kissed the sore flesh.
"Sorry, I don't have female perfumed soap and stuff. Don't have many girls stays
here. Guess beggars can't be choosers," he quipped.
"I'm not a beggar and I didn't choose to come here, you pervert," Paula
retorted, "If you hadn't come along I'd have still been asleep and I wouldn't
have a sore arse."
"And you would still have been cold, smelly and drunk!" They swapped places, she
sat on the loo and watched him shave. His limp cock swaying slightly in front of
her face as he moved around. John noticed her watching and his cock began to
stiffen. He would have liked to have forced it into her mouth but resisted the
temptation.
"Put on my dressing gown," he told her as he dressed, "Then we'll get some
breakfast." In the kitchen he started frying eggs and bacon on the AGA cooker.
She sat on a padded stool nearby taking in some of the warmth from the stove.
Her clothes in the washing machine were still doing their circular orbit but
were on the last part of the cycle. "I don't normally have a cooked breakfast
but you are a guest and it looks as if you need feeding up. The smell of the
cooking bacon, the warmth and the throbbing in her head were almost too much and
she began to feel dizzy. Fortunately John noticed and caught her before she fell
and sat her in a Windsor chair by the table. The arms would prevent her falling
and she recovered quickly.
Paula quickly ate the food placed before her, including several slices of toast
and marmalade. She would have eaten more but John decided that as she had eaten
so little recently, she ought not to have too much at any one time. "Wash the
dishes while I start making a loaf in the bread machine." John ordered. He
removed her clothes from the washer. It was still raining hard so he hung them
on the rail above the stove to dry. "They should be dry after lunch," he said,
"Then, if you wish you can go on your way. First though I would like you to come
into the lounge and listen to a story."
"I'd rather sit here by the stove in the warm."
"It's warm in there too and the chairs are softer."
