BDSM Library - Ring of Truth Blog

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MC.

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

After finding the Ring of Truth and learning a little of its properties, I, Dr. Derek Meeks, decided to keep a sort of diary, a 'blog' of events surrounding its use in my life. At the same time I added excerpts from the leather book that came with the ring so they would be readily readable. For the time being I am keeping the information in a protected file on my computer and, for reasons that will become obvious to anyone privileged to view them, I do not intend to print them out until I, like the previous owner, decide to put the ring in some safe place. That may not be for many years hence.

Dr. Derek Meeks.

P.S. (Later). I have now decided to anonymously publish an edited version of the blog together with the excerpts from the book on a site I visit frequently and get much pleasure from reading the stories it contains. Names of people (including my own), and places have been changed but otherwise this is an honest account of my experiences with the ring. I have tried to write each blog as a readable narrative and have concentrated on the sexual aspects mainly because I know that it what readers visit this site for and because they brought me the greatest pleasure. I hope it will do the same for you.

Blog 1. Finding the ring

12th July 2004

"I promised Mrs. McCready you would help her move into her new house. You don't mind do you Derek?" It was typical of my mother to volunteer me without asking first.

"But I planned on going over to Sandswick this afternoon mother," I protested.

"Oh there'll be plenty of times you can go there. You've still two months left before you start work and the woman really needs someone strong to help her clear all the old stuff from poor Miss Read's old house. Finish your breakfast, I said you would be there about nine and it's past that now. You were up late this morning." There was that hint of disapproval in her voice. "I expect she'll get you something for lunch and you can get a takeaway for dinner. I'll be at the bridge club until late."

I groaned and complained but there was no getting out of it. Mother was adamant that I should help and despite all my arguments, insisted I go. It wasn't that I really objected to helping, and I didn't dislike Mrs. McCready, if fact she was quite a pleasant woman, but I did object to being put in a position where I would be obliged to help whether or not I wanted to. The last few months had been stressful in the extreme but after many nights of burning the midnight oil, I was able to complete the research needed for my thesis. It worked out and I finally obtained my doctorate. I am now fully entitled to call myself Dr. Derek Meeks. Mother even got the photo of me wearing my mortarboard and gown in the local paper. For the time being though I just wanted to relax and make the most of the free time before I took up a research post at Dunchester University where I had spent the last five years as a student. It is only ten miles away which meant I could and did live at home for the first four years of my course and save my accommodation expenses, but during that time I was never free of mother's influences. When I successfully obtained a grant and sponsorship for my post graduate research I was able to afford a room on the campus but at the start of the new term I shall move into a house my predecessor in the post now occupies. His new job is taking him abroad for several years.

Glumly I walked the few hundred yards along the road to the fifteenth century house that had been Miss Read's home for as long as anyone could remember. The seemingly frail, bent old lady lived alone and had survived until one morning soon after her ninety-eighth birthday, the milkman noticed the previous day's milk hadn't been taken in. He alerted the police and they called her younger sister's son, Robert, who found Miss Read lying abed. She'd died peaceably in her sleep. Her will left the house and contents to be shared between all three of her sister's children but none of them wished to live in the damp, inconvenient old house. After dividing up any furniture and belongings that were deemed worth keeping, the remainder was left and the house put up for sale.

To Jean McCready, the building was a delightful example of a framed Tudor house. She loved the way the top storey overhung the ground floor and the quaint carvings on the ends of the protruding floor beams. "It will need a lot of money spent on it to get it habitable by modern standards and of course there are restrictions on what you are allowed to do with an old building like this," the estate agent had warned her, but money wasn't a problem. She had money in her own right and the inheritance from the death of her husband made her quite wealthy.

"She can afford to pay a firm to come in a clear the whole place," I muttered as I sauntered along still cursing my mother for involving me, more so because she'd sent me to work while she went and played cards with her friends. The front door, accessed by two stone steps directly from the pavement was wide open and a hire skip stood coned off in the road with a layer of rubbish already covering the base. Climbing the steps I peered inside and called out, "Mrs. McCready!"

"Come in Derek, sorry I didn't mean to impose on you like this but your mother insisted and wouldn't take no for an answer. Please feel free to go if you have other things planned. If you haven't then I could certainly use the help. I'll pay you of course. I intended to go to the employment people to get someone but Miriam said…well you know your mother." The woman gave an impish grin.

"It's okay Mrs. McCready…"

"Jean please." The dumpy woman with the ready smile took my hand and shook it. "It makes me feel old to be called Mrs. by someone as old as you. I'm only forty-one for heavens sake!"

"Okay Jean, I'm here and I'll do what I can to help. No need to worry about paying me. I sort of figured it was to be voluntary work or mother wouldn't have suggested it." I couldn't help smiling at the woman clad incongruously in blue overalls wearing bright yellow rubber gloves and a red headscarf. There were already dirt smudges on her face. "What's to be done?" I asked as I donned my old white lab coat. By the state Jean was in, it wouldn't be white for long. Jean gave me a quick tour and at once I could see how neglected the place had been for many years. Threadbare carpets covered the floors, wallpaper hung in tatters from the walls and over all there was a dank musty smell. Jean's mind though, saw things as they would be after she had worked on the place.

"I want to do as much as I can myself," Jean told me, "There'll be lots I can't do but the place will feel more mine if I do what I can and in any case, who knows, clearing a place like this might yield some treasures. Perhaps there will be some things I can take to the Antiques Roadshow and have one of the experts tell me it is worth a fortune." I laughed with her at the thought of her appearing on the TV show with some little trinket that was held in awe by a bespectacled presenter. By then we were on the upstairs landing. "The first job will be to get the roof repaired and for that the workmen need to get into the attic. Rain comes through in several places and that's made the house quite damp. All I can see by peering over the ledge are a few boxes. I've bought a stepladder but it needs someone with a bit more height and more spring in their bum to get through the trap door to see what's in there."

"Someone like me?" I questioned. She laughed.

An hour later I had an extension lead in the attic with a vacuum cleaner and a quartz halogen light plugged in. "There's a good wood floor with lots of boxes, some wood, some cardboard. Rain's made some places damp. Where it's dry the place is covered with dust." I called down. "I'll Hoover the boxes a bit and pass them down to you so you can sort through them."

By lunchtime we had a pile of boxes in what was the lounge. While Jean went to the nearby baker's for sandwiches, I made tea and started looking through the boxes. Many were discarded clothes, papers and oddments of china. Some, where the roof had leaked, the water had got into the material and the clothes were covered with mould, others were surprising dry and in good condition. We laughed and joked over our finds while we drank our tea. I declined the offer of a box of old rag dolls. "You might want them in a few years time," Jean suggested.

"Not much hope of that at the moment," I replied.

"No one special at the university then?"

"Nope. I don't really seem to get on with girls. Seem to say the wrong things at the wrong time. In any case for the last few months I been well and truly worked off my feet to finish my thesis."

Jean wanted to keep the paperwork, mainly old letters and bills, in case there was something interesting historically concerning the house but much of the stuff went straight into the skip. Nearly at the end of our break, I forced open a wooden chest containing various items of jewellery. The lid was locked but the joints at one corner had given way so I pulled the end off and tipped the contents on to the floor. Delightedly Jean and I picked them over. Amongst the items I picked out a small cardboard box no bigger than a pack of playing cards. Inside nestled a signet ring and a small leather book. From the start I sensed something strange about the ring. The metal still gleamed silver whereas all the other silver jewellery in the box was tarnished to blackness but at first I just put that down to it having been inside the little box. The band was about 6 mm wide and inscribed with writing that I thought was possibly Persian but which was unintelligible to me. Affixed to the band was a squarish block with scalloped edges and only about 8 mm on each side in the centre of which sat a small, slightly iridescent, greenish-yellow stone. There was nothing ostentatious about it and in fact most people hardly notice that I am wearing it. It looks like an ordinary ring that could be bought cheaply in any market. I slipped it on my index finger and held out my hand to show Jean.

<<"…these beads are beautiful. I guess from the colour they must be amber because they wouldn't have plastic to fake them from if they are as old as they look. They're really nice.">>

I was astounded. I heard Jean talking in my head but her lips weren't moving and she was engrossed in sorting through the jewellery.

<<"That's a nice looking broach. Bet the mount is silver and will set off the blue stone when it is cleaned up.">> Jean looked up and saw the ring on my finger and perhaps the look of bewilderment on my face. <<"Goodness he looks a little pale. Hope we haven't overdone it today. I guess he's not used to manual work.">> To my eyes the stone seemed to gently twinkle like the green neon on my computer when it is working but certainly not as brightly as that. "You okay?" she asked in a normal voice and then she saw the ring and took my hand to see it more closely. "That looks nice on you. Keep it Derek. I don't think it would suit me." We put the remainder of the jewellery in another box ready for Jean to take home and stood to stretch our legs. We'd been sitting on the floor during our lunch break. "I suppose we ought to get a little more done. I can clean these things later," she suggested, "You feel like carrying on?"

"Yes, fine. Who knows what else we might find up there? Maybe some more dolls!"

We climbed the stairs again but all the while I kept hearing Jean's voice in my head commenting on the jewellery and what she might do with it and what it might be worth. Twice I turned around to see if she was actually speaking but she only looked at me in surprise. Could I really be hearing what she was thinking? Could it be the ring? No, that would be too much like magic and magic didn't exist. My scientific training tried unsuccessfully to find another explanation. I could test if it was the ring by removing it. By now I had ascended the stepladder and had my hands either side of the opening ready to spring into the attic.

<<"Nice arse. Wonder what his prick is like. Giggle. It'd be nice to have a nice young prick in me again. Oh you are a naughty girl to think that!">> The words in my head shocked me so much that I very nearly didn't make the jump into the attic. "Careful Derek," Jean warned, "You sure you're okay?"

"Fine. Wasn't thinking what I was doing."

<<"I hope he is. Probably not worked as hard physically for a while. Perhaps I'd better not push him too much. Don't want Miriam…">> I slipped the ring into my pocket at that point and Jean's voice in my head ceased. The boxes from immediately around the trapdoor had now all been removed but there were still a few at the far end of the attic. Below me I could hear Jean clearing one of the bedrooms. I slipped the ring on again but couldn't hear Jean until I pushed the stone against the floorboards more or less above where she was. I could hear her thoughts but at a very much reduced level, a level so low that I almost had to stop breathing to hear them. Oddly, when I switched on the vacuum cleaner the voices in my head were just as clear as it was when the noisy machine was off. It seemed as if outside noises didn't affect my ability to receive messages, whereas internal noises like coughing and heavy breathing would. "Can I project my thoughts to her?" I wondered. So far I had seen no evidence of it. Standing at the trapdoor I tried to send a thought message to ask her to come to the steps but nothing happened although I could hear her discussing with herself was to do with the peeling wallpaper. "Better take the ring off for a bit," I told myself, "Otherwise I won't get much done. Even as I cleaned the attic and moved the remaining boxes to near the trapdoor, I couldn't help wondering how the ring worked and what difference it might make to my life. My thoughts also kept returning to the remark Jean made about wanting my prick. Now, instead of thinking of her as a woman old enough to be my mother, well nearly, I began to wonder what she was like under the overalls she'd been wearing all day. Yes, she was short and a little plump but well endowed in the tit department. From her comment, 'it'd be nice to have a nice young prick in me again,' I guessed she still got horny. Maybe there was a chance I could get my prick into her. It had been a few months since I'd last fucked a girl and I'd certainly never had one as old or as plump as Jean.

By mid-afternoon I had the attic clear and went down for a cuppa and look through the latest boxes but there was not too much of interest for me. Mainly papers and old clothes and a few children's toys but they had been well used and were rather battered. "You're not wearing the ring," Jean commented.

"I didn't want to damage it," I lied but put it on again. We sat cross-legged on the floor drinking the last of our tea. The tail ends of my lab coat had opened so I knew Jean could look directly at my crotch and from her thoughts I knew she was assessing my potential. <<"He looks to have a decent bulge there. Is that all prick or is just the way his trousers hang? Wonder if I could get a little feel of it. Giggle.">> In return I began to appraise her body. She certainly wasn't a beauty queen but she was by no means unattractive. Thinking these thoughts caused my prick to stiffen and from her thoughts I knew she noticed. Ineffectually I tried talking about the things we'd found and moved myself so the budding erection didn't show as much. Once again I tried to see if I could project my thoughts but with no result.

By four o'clock we'd both had enough. My once white lab coat was near black down the front and Jean's overalls were filthy. "Let's call it a day, Derek. Would you like to come to my place for a meal? There's a couple of steaks in the freezer," she suggested.

"I'm filthy. I ought to go home and shower and change."

"I do have a shower at my place, you know," Jean laughed, "And we could pick up a change of clothes at yours on the way. I'm just as dirty as you so I'll need a shower too." <<"Wouldn't mind showering with him like I did with Ted. He seems interested in me from the way he keeps looking at my tits.">>

"Okay, you persuaded me," I grinned wondering if I would really be able to shower with her. I knew she thought about it but I couldn't think of a way to bring it about.

We chatted about the house and the finds as she drove the five miles to her home. She showed me the shower and asked, "Would you like to use it first? Don't be too greedy with the hot water though. The tank is rather small."

"Ladies first," I replied.

"No guests first."

We argued as to who should go first for a minute or so until I jokingly asked, "Would you like us to shower together then?"

The smile left her face and her expression became serious and rather blank looking. I thought I had committed a faux pas but quietly and seemingly finding it difficult to get the words out she answered, "Yes Derek, I would like to shower with you." <<"What made me say that? I know I wanted to but I don't want to appear to be a slut or taking advantage of him. I couldn't seem to stop myself….">>

I could tell from Jean's thoughts that she was confused but I decided to keep the advantage. "Come on then, I'll undress you and you can undress me. Let's have a little fun after all the hard work." Taking her hand I led her into the bathroom and started unbuttoning her shirt. Her thoughts that came through to my mind were still very confused. Deep down she wanted to shower and have sex with me but had grave reservations about doing it with the son of her friend, doing it with a young lad, doing it with someone she would see frequently in the future. Seeing her hesitation, I tried to reassure her. "I'm not a minor you know Jean. I'm twenty-six for heavens sake and I do have a little experience. I want to do this as much as you so let's pretend I'm just a toy-boy you've hired for an hour or two. Forget that you know my mother or that we'll be working together again in the morning. Let's live for the moment." She seemed surprised at my insight into what was worrying her and relaxed. Before long we were both naked and looking each other over. For my part I was very pleased at the sight of Jean's plump body and her good sized tits that had hardly started to sag. "You're very nice Jean," I said awkwardly as I gave her a hug and pressed her breasts to my lower chest and her head to my shoulders.

"You're not so bad yourself, tall guy," she giggled and then pushed herself away and took a quick look at my equipment. >>"Nice sized prick and big balls, already half hard. Hope he can use it later.">> Her thoughts came to me as we stepped under the shower and washed each other.

To Jean it must have seemed that I knew just the right tricks to stimulate her. Verbally she just came out with "Oooh's and aaraah's" but her mental instructions were far more precise. <<"Rub the underside of my breasts, now the nipples… massage my bottom…now my slit… play with my clit…">> I responded to all these messages and brought her to a noisy climax even before she started to wash me. When she did, she paid special attention to my prick, which was now rock hard. <<"Hope he'll put this in me…mustn't rub it too hard so he comes and can't get it up again… young lads can often get it hard quickly so perhaps it won't matter… perhaps I can give it just a little suck ...">> I felt her lips around the head and knew I would soon shoot my load and warned her. For a moment she seemed worried and her thoughts told me it was because she wanted it in her and then <<"Well if he's so close, it won't be much of a fuck so I might as well finish him off and try again later.">> Her mouth took my manhood deeper and she sucked more vigorously until I could hold out no longer.

"If that's a sample of what older women can do, I want more of them," I said to myself.

Finally we finished washing and drying ourselves. Jean, I knew, enjoyed the experience as much as I did but inwardly she was confused, guilty and apprehensive as to what we had done. I tried to reassure her as best I could but still the guilty feeling remained. We didn't dress properly but she loaned me a plaid dressing gown of Ted's and wore a flowery one herself. Ted's was a bit short on me but it covered my prick with just a little to spare.

For a while our minds were largely concerned with preparing and eating the meal but in any spare moments both of us thought about what happened earlier and how it would affect our relationship. After the washing-up was done and we sat drinking tea in the lounge, our thinking once again turned to sex. My prick started to rise from the visual stimulation of seeing the tops of Jean's tits where her gown had opened. Putting my arm around her, I kissed them. Instinctively she started to push me away, and almost as quickly pulled me to her.

<<"I want it in me this time…I can feel it hardening…hope he wants to…">>

"Jean? Would you like us to go into the bedroom and do it properly?" I whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she hissed back, "Yes please."

I wasn't a virgin but I'd only had fucked a few girls and none aroused me like Jean did. This was partly due to way her tits bounced and her arse wobbled as she walked. I couldn't resist giving her bum cheeks a playful smack as we went into the room, which brought a little squeal from her. My arousal was also very much stimulated by hearing her raunchy thoughts as I ploughed into her and for the thought instructions as to what she liked me to do. The movements that seemed to suit her best also inflamed my passions but even so I took longer than usual to ejaculate into her, probably because it was the second emission in a relatively short time.

Ring of Truth Blog 2

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF Little sex in this blog – will be in the rest.

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 2. The origin of the ring

13th July 2004

I arrived home at nine o'clock, Dad was watching a big football match on TV and from his thoughts, I knew he was totally engrossed in it so I went to my room and took out the little book that came with the ring. The pages were sear and brown and, apart from the title page, the writing spidery and microscopic in size. Even with a magnifying glass it was difficult to read and it was only when I tried my X10 hand-lens that I could make out the words fairly clearly but with that amount of magnification, I could only read a few letters at a time. A better method of reading the text was needed. How the author managed to write so small, probably with a quill or a steel nibbed pen, I would never know.

"Supposing I…?" An idea came to me. I placed the book, open to the first two pages on the scanner and scanned it into PhotoShop. By enlarging it to A4 landscape size and using the grayscale, levels, contrast and unsharp mask controls, I was able to read the text on clearly on the screen.

I read the first page carefully.

Be warned!!

The Ring of Truth

Joshua Matlock September 22nd AD 1768

Being now 74 years of age and daily becoming more infirm but with my faculties intact I have decided I have no further need of the ring that has served me so well over the years. Rather than allow it to fall into the hands of my unscrupulous relatives, I will package it and store it with such trinkets as have been left behind by various mistresses and my newly departed Beatrice, in a place where it is unlikely they will find it. God willing, I will in these pages show how the ring has been of some service to me and it will help my mind re-live some of the experiences of my past. The account will, I am sure, only give brief glimpses of such services and the titillation's and rewards I had from its influence.

To whosoever finds this ring, I must give warning before he, or even she, wears it.

The ring, which I call the Ring of Truth, has two most unusual and unique properties. Firstly it allows the wearer to listen to the thoughts of those nearby without them being aware of it happening, and secondly, any question asked by the wearer is always answered, and answered truthfully and with complete honesty.

"That's why Jean said she would like to shower with me and then have sex," I muttered to myself. "She would probably have made up some white lie otherwise."

At first sight it may seem a pleasant diversion to eavesdrop on the private thoughts of others and so often it is, but not infrequently, the thoughts are directed against you. Thus in order to preserve the knowledge of your ability, you will need quickly to become inured to hearing the black scurrilous things others think about you. In the early days of my possessing the ring, I was sorely shocked by the unspoken opinions that personages I believed to be my friends, thought about my appearance, my ability, my work and my finances. You must harden your heart to such thoughts and behave as though you have not heard them.

Think twice or thrice before asking any question especially if in the company of several others. The truthful and honest answer you receive may well not be the one you wish for and can lead to embarrassment for all concerned. Even seemingly innocent questions can have unexpected answers. For example at a ball in the Manor House, I asked a young lady if she would care to dance. "No!" she retorted loudly and gave her reason by calling me a blaggard and worse. This took place in front of many of the gentry and my peers who were present at the function. Not only was I made to look a complete and utter fool, the lady herself was completely flustered by her outburst and had to retire immediately.

Having counselled my warnings to you, whoever you are and in whatever time, do not hesitate to use the ring to your advantage. Knowing your opponent's thoughts is a great advantage in business and being able to read the minds of ladies makes their seduction very much easier and saves wasting time on those that will not be receptive to you.

Thinking back to the events earlier in the day, I realised how lucky I had been not to alienate Jean by asking questions that could have provoked an outburst. Apart from the two concerning the shower and having sex which I knew she wanted from her thoughts, I'd only asked straight-forward things like, "Where would you like this box put? Shall I dump this lot?" which she could answer normally.

"How'd you get on at Miss Read's?" Mother asked when she arrived home. I'd decided to call it a day and noted the PhotoShop settings ready for scanning the remainder of the book and went to the kitchen to make a mug of Horlicks. She'd just returned from her bridge meeting.

"Fine, cleared the attic and got much of the other stuff into the skip. How'd you get on at Bridge?"

Mother gave a half smile and said, "Won more than I lost." <<"Good job he doesn't know what else I played with. Jack Pendergast's prick for example! That was a real nice game. Not like yours that hardly ever gets hard.">> Mother turned towards her husband watching the replays of the match. "Who won?" she asked him although she wasn't at all interested in his reply. Her mind was still reliving the fucking she'd had at the 'bridge club.' I was pretty shocked when I took in the details and saw the images she was projecting. Never in my life would I have suspected mother of infidelity let alone some of the off-beat things she did. The Bridge games were nothing more than sex swap parties between her, Mary and Jack Pendergast and Fred Bassett. I knew them all and until now thought them respectable people. Never would I have suspected anything of their sexual proclivities. I almost blurted out a comment but just in time I remembered the warning in Joshua's book and tried to compose myself.

"Think I'll have an early night Mum. I'm not used to being a labourer."

"Did you get a pizza or something for your dinner Derek?" Mother called as I started up the stairs.

"No, Jean cooked steaks."

"Oh so it's Jean now is it. You watch yourself my lad!" Mother laughed at me, "Some old ladies like to have a toyboy." Little did she realise how near the truth that was.

For a while I lay in the darkness waiting for sleep that wouldn't come. I gently stroked my prick as I replayed the scenes from mother's thoughts. Perhaps I should have been more shocked than I was but I surmised that, like Jean, mother wasn't getting the sex she wanted or needed at home. "Good luck to you mother," I muttered but I felt sorry for dad. He worked hard to earn enough money to keep us and I wasn't going to be contributing to the family income now either. "Just don't get caught mother or you may be in for a rough time," I thought to myself. My mind was also full of the ring, its possibilities, and its dangers. How would I use it? And for what purpose?

About eleven o'clock I heard Jenny, my sister, come in and go into her room next to mine. Curious but at the same time feeling rather guilty at spying on my own sister, I placed the ring against the wall and in the quietness, I picked up her thoughts fairly easily. She'd had sex with Ralph but that was pretty much to be expected. They were due to get married in a month's time and were fixing up a house ready for their life together. However, although sex came into her mind several times mostly her thoughts concentrated on the wedding plans and the work needing to be done on the house. I took the ring off and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Early next morning, much earlier than I would normally get up, I fired up the computer and started scanning in the book. It was much quicker now that I knew the settings to use to get the optimum clarity from the pages. These I saved as JPG files in a protected folder because there was no way I could enable the OCR programme to read the peculiar handwriting and I didn't want anyone else to see them. Not than any of my family ever came into the room without asking, nor would they dream of accessing my computer. In any case Jenny was the only one who knew enough about computers to even turn the thing on. Father left for work at 6:30 and when I heard Jenny go into the bathroom at seven, I slipped the ring on again and went to the downstairs loo and then started the coffee machine going. While making toast I reminded myself not to ask questions when Jenny came down.

"You're up early," she commented when she arrived in the kitchen dressed ready for work.

"Couldn't seem to sleep. Too much hard work yesterday I guess."

We made sporadic conversation about mundane things while she drank her coffee. I, off course, tuned into her thoughts, which were mainly concerned with Ralph, the house and the wedding but at one point she stared at me for more than a fleeting glance, her eyes focussed on my bare chest. As normal for me at that time of year, I only wore pyjama bottoms and because the weather was warm I came down to breakfast dressed that way. For a moment I thought I missed a comment from her but her thoughts went on. <<"My God, Derek's getting to be quite a hunky man. It's a wonder no girl has snapped him up. Maybe he's too shy. Perhaps he's not too well endowed between his legs. I wonder what his prick is like now? Haven't seen it since he was about ten years old except for the time I got a glimpse when he peed behind the bush and didn't know I was there. Didn't get a very good look at it then.">> Involuntarily I blushed and this caught Jenny's attention, "What are you thinking about to make you blush like that?" she asked and giggled, "You weren't having naughty thoughts about your young sister were you?" Before I could reply she leaned over the table and peered at my crotch and saw my pyjamas starting to tent out. "I'd better get going before you do more than think naughty thoughts," she laughed and went to get her coat. <<"He seems to be well enough equipped in that department. Surely some of the girl students at Uni would have found that out too? Maybe he is too shy or too wrapped up in his work. I know he's had a pretty stressful time for the last few months.">> "See you later. Don't do anything I wouldn't do naughty boy."

"That gives me plenty of scope," I responded as she left and I returned to my computer to read the JPG files. Later I typed them to make them easier to read and put them in this blog.

Ring of Truth.

Whosoever finds this ring will, I'm sure, welcome the answers to three questions. Where did the ring come from? How does the magic work? And how did I come by it? Unfortunately I cannot answer the first two questions with any certainty. The story as told to me may or may not be true but that is the only provenance I have.

While no date can be assigned, but it must be at least a century ago perhaps many centuries, the ring was owned by the high priest of a temple somewhere in the mountains of the Hindu Kush. How he came by it, is not known nor is the metal from which it is made. I assumed at first it was silver but an assayist said it definitely wasn't silver or any other metal he had come across. The story goes that the priest used the ring to peruse the minds of his acolytes to ensure none had unclean thoughts. Any that did were stripped of their vestments and made to lie over the back of a statue of their God, a rotund figure by all accounts. The priest then publicly whipped the acolyte until the sins of his thoughts were pardoned.

The peace of the isolated community was shattered one morning when a group of marauding brigands attacked the temple and massacred all the inhabitants that were unable to flee in time. Some months later the loot from the temple, including the ring, found its way to a merchant in Samarkand and was bought by a trader working the Old Silk Road to China where he sold it to a wealthy chinaman. All of the tale so far is largely conjecture but the story that follows is more factual.

Forty years ago, I owned a prosperous inn at the harbour entrance to the West Dock in London. It was a rough area but I employed a few of the rougher men to keep the peace and generally enjoyed a good relationship with the seamen who used the establishment and the maids that I employed to service them. One such was Jock McCray, a fiery little Scotsman. One night, a few days after he was in port from a tea run from Shanghai, my men brought him in severely beaten. His face was a mass of blood, one arm was broken and his body was badly bruised and cut and we suspected there was also internal damage from having received an almighty kicking. I had him taken to a bed at the back of the inn and personally oversaw two of the maids clean and tend his wounds. Meanwhile I sent a boy to 'Doc' Mason's house. He was a retired naval surgeon and he tottered in quickly enough. It cost me two large brandies before he would even see the patient. I wondered if I had done the right thing when he staggered up the stairs but without hardly a word he felt Jock's arm, ordered two of us to hold him still and then with a deft pull, set the arm. Jock yelled at the pain but it soon subsided. "Bind a couple of pieces of wood each side of the arm and leave them for a month," Doc ordered. It cost me another brandy before Doc made his unsteady way home.

A week later Jock could get up and walk and talk a little but his ship had left so he was without a job and no immediate prospects of getting one considering his condition. One morning a week later, we sat reminiscing after breakfast when the inn was quiet. For a short while I was silent until Jock interrupted my thoughts. "Ye'r thinkin' 'bout me. How I'm goin' t'get on with this handicap an' no job. Yer're wundrin' if yer c'n find me work here." He went on to detail all my thoughts and misgivings as to his welfare almost exactly as I had thought them. I must have looked shocked because he said not to worry and he had something to tell me.

"Joshua," he said, "I know ya 'ave spent a lot of time an' trouble over me an' a good deal of money too and yet yer've ne'er mentioned any sorta payments. Well now, I wanna pay ya by sellin' ya this 'ere ring." He showed me what I now call the Ring of Truth on his finger. It didn't look much of anything. "I'll sell yer it for a 'undred guineas. It's worth much more than that."

"I don't think I would pay a shilling for it," I chided him.

"That's cuz you dinnat know aboot it. Ye're thinkin' the beating 'as affected me 'ead." I was thinking that. "How d' ya think I knows?"

I felt compelled to answer, "You guessed?"

"Na, I knew. I've bin able to read yer thoughts ever since ya took me in. That's how I knew yer were doin'g everythin' you cud for me. It's this ring. With it I c'n listen t'yer head and I c'n make ya answer any of my questions and ya 'ave to answer truthfully. Here, try it on." I was astounded. I turned to one of the maids at the bar some distance away and could hear her mind commenting on what Jock and I were talking about.

"How did you get this?" I asked and I now know he had to answer although I hadn't really taken that part of the ring's property in at the time.

"When I was in Shanghai last. As usual I'd supped full of the local liquor an't on t'way back to the ship I cum across an old chinky being knocked about by a couple of young sailors frum another ship. I goes in and after a bit o' a punch up, they goes away but not before they 'ad put a knife in the chink's guts. He was bleeding something terrible but I sat 'im up an' spoke to 'im. 'e must 'ave known 'e wuz dyin'. He muttered somethin' in 'is own lingo and give me the ring. It took me a whiles t' figure oot what it did. As luck would 'av it, it wuz also what caused this beatin' o' me. I'd 'ad too many tankards and wuz goin' back to my ship when these Welsh laddies cum out of the Mary Rose. They saw me hardly able to stand and called out. Nothing serious but then I 'eard what they were saying in their minds and confused it with what wuz coming out of their mouths an' I start fighting 'em. But there wuz three of 'em an' I was almost incapable an' once they got started they didna know when to stop. Like me they'd had a few."

"Why do you want to give the ring away Jock?" I asked.

"Cuz I cud easily get beat up agin for same thing. Twas no the first time either even tho' it twas the worst. Too much ale and too quick wi' me temper. Yer need to control both if yer wearing the ring. It can 'elp a lot in business tho'."

After more discussion I went and got the hundred guineas and that's how I came by the ring. I've followed the advice in the story for most of my life and have been very successful with the use of the ring. Remember dear reader, drink wisely and control your temper.

That's as far as my scanning and typing of the book has gone.

Derek.

Ring of Truth Blog 3

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 3. A date with Sarah

14th July 2004

"Morning Jean," I called out as I entered yesterday.

"Good morning, Derek. Thank you for coming again. You really were such a help yesterday. I washed your lab coat but I'm afraid it hasn't come out too clean." <<"I wonder if he expects to fuck me again when we finish as payment? I feel so guilty at having seduced him like that? What would Mirium think if she found out?">>

"Thanks Jean. It's only an old one that I won't use in the lab any more." I donned the coat and seeing Jean's troubled face and reading her thoughts I went on, "Jean? You look worried. If it's over what we did yesterday, don't be. I enjoyed what we did and I think you did too. I doubt if either of us will blab about it. It's something that happened, something we'll both remember but it is not going to be the start of a permanent relationship. If it happens again, fine; if not we still have the memories. Don't let it spoil or colour our being together here and don't worry, I'm not going rape you in one of the old bedrooms."

"Thanks Derek. I did feel so guilty afterwards."

"Don't be. Now let's finish clearing these rooms." I know both of us kept thinking of what happened and both wondered if it would occur again but in the event mother stymied that. She invited both of us to dinner.

I managed to keep my head during the morning and forced myself not to ask any questions. We didn't find any more treasures, only a few Victorian copper coins, two of them very thick pennies and a shop token from under the living room carpet.

"I'll see if the baker's will take them," I laughed. It was nearly lunchtime and I volunteered to go while Jean finished stripping the paper from a wall.

There was a short queue and while I waited I recognised Sarah Larkins as one of the two serving. She'd been in my class at high school but left at sixteen to go to work. Since I'd seen her last she'd filled out considerably. At school she was fairly plain and what the teacher's would say, 'a good B stream pupil' intelligent but not in an academic way. Her companion at the counter looked a few years older but I did not recall seeing her before. I managed get Sarah to serve me.

"Good morning Dr. Meeks, what can I get you?"

"Oh you are formal this morning Sarah Larkins. Is it still Larkins?" Immediately I regretted my lapse at asking a question.

For a moment she looked bewildered and I could hear a jumble of thoughts. "Yes, it is again now. I was married for four years to Terry Machin but that ended and I now use my maiden name again." <<"He's grown to be a good looking man. Pity I didn't go to university.">> "So what can I get you this morning? Jean told me yesterday you were helping her." I gave my order and while I waited for her to fill the sandwiches, listened in to her thoughts. Mostly they were about me. <<"He used to be such a gawky kid, with his head always in a book. Not very practical. I always beat him in woodwork class. Surprised that Jean wanted him to help. I suppose it is only labouring work.">>

"You fancy him?" Maggie her companion whispered just loud enough for me to hear. "If not perhaps there's a chance for me!"

"You've got a husband!" Sarah hissed. <<"Yes, I guess I do fancy him a bit but I doubt if he'll even look at a dunderhead like me.">> It was then that I decided to make a play for Sarah. "Two pounds thirty-six please Derek." She gave me a lovely smile as she handed me the bag. I handed her the two old copper pennies and three farthings. For a second or two her mind didn't register as she automatically closed her fingers over the coins, then opened them again. "What's this then?" she laughed and looked at them more closely, "They weigh enough but I don't think there is much value here."

"I've a shop token as well if that will help."

"You one of those crazy forgetful professors now? So much science in your brain you don't know what day of the week it is or the coins we use?"

I laughed too and handed her a five pound note. "Just trying to see if you were awake."

"Don't get much chance to sleep here. There's already a line forming so be off with you and let me get to serving them." She grinned widely as she said it.

"Only if you agree to come to the pictures with me tonight." I'd been racking my brain to think of a way to ask her out without asking a question.

<<"He's asking me out! Hell I never expected that. He must have learned to chat up the girls in the university. Maybe I'll go just for the hell of it. Mustn't sound too eager, not in front of Maggie.">> "Perhaps," she answered slowly, "I'll pop in at Miss Read's when I get off at three and see if Jean thinks you really are a mad professor. No telling what you boffins might get up to with a poor innocent young lady."

"You innocent?" Maggie chipped in, "Not after being married to Terry for four years you're not."

"I was about to send a search party out for you," Jean joked when I returned, "Thought you had forgotten this poor starving lady working her guts out here."

"Sarah wouldn't take the old coins."

"I hope you didn't give her a hard time. She seems a nice girl. Her husband was a bit of a bastard though. According to all the stories he still kept up with his old girlfriends even after he and Sarah were married and knocked her about a bit. They say he brought several of them home and did it with them while Sarah was in the house. In the end he went off with one of them that had a bit of money." Jean's thoughts gave a few more graphic descriptions of the relationship.

"I may have a date with her tonight Jean. Have asked her to go to the pictures and she's going to come by on her way home and let me know."

"I'm sure you'll have a nice time but don't expect too much to come of it. Once bitten…well you know what they say."

For the next couple of hours we worked together. I'd finished clearing the trash from the rooms and started helping her strip the tatty wallpaper. I decided to test myself by keeping the ring on in her company to see if I could control my reactions. For the most part I did pretty well and in fact it was fairly easy. Jean's thoughts were mainly concerned with what she was doing but her mind wandered a little to our escapade yesterday. <<"If he gets a date I doubt if he will want to have me beforehand just in case she gives out to him. Still last night was really good. Doubt if Sarah will find out this quickly. Probably only be a one night stand until he goes back to Uni. He must have fucked a lot of girls before in order to be able to please me like he did.">>

Fortunately I resisted the urge to tell her that I'd only had about four girls in the seven years I was there.

Sarah did come in at a little after three and we went through to the back yard to sit on a wall in the sun. "Well, well Doctor Meeks. You look more like a coal-miner than a professional man," she teased. My lab coat was once again black and so apparently was my face. Her thoughts had me crawling in a dark tunnel wielding a pickaxe. I couldn't help laughing almost hysterically. "I didn't think it was that much of a joke," she commented but my laughter was infectious and she too was chuckling loudly. When we calmed down she went on, "Derek I know you asked me to go to the pictures with you but there is only a war film on at the Odeon and I'm not too keen on them, so I wandered if we could go out for a meal or something."

"That will be fine with me Sarah as long as you are not expecting to go to Flixingham Country Club. I may have got my doctorate but I've had to live hand to mouth for the last seven years to get it. Until I actually start work…"

"You have to pay with old coins," Sarah interrupted. "What about going to The Swan? It's fairly quiet and the meals are reasonable and I'll pay my share." I could see she was worried about my finances.

"No, no Sarah, I invited you out and I may be able to find a few more old coins if I lift the floorboards. The Swan sounds fine. I have a little money to spend as long as my car keeps going."

"Jean, Derek?" Mother's shrill voice came through the open door.

"O' Lor. What does she want?" I muttered and then realised I shouldn't have asked the question. Fortunately mother was out of earshot. Sarah came in the house with me.

"Are there you are. Good afternoon Sarah. My goodness Derek, what a mess you're in. And you Jean are just as bad." Mother rambled on about the state of the place without giving anyone a chance to answer and then said, "I'm cooking a special meal for you both so try and get cleaned up by six o'clock."

"Mother, I have already arranged to take Sarah for a meal at The Swan this evening."

"Well you'll just have to do that another day." <<"Does he think that shop girl is more important than I am? He can only have known her a few minutes. Probably just wants a girl he can get into her knickers.">>

Her thoughts irked me. Why should I allow myself to be bossed about by my mother? I'd been home five days already and this would be the first time she'd been home to cook a meal for me – or my dad for that matter although he mostly had his main meal in the works canteen.

"No mum, tonight for once I am going out." I tried to sound firm.

"So I've gone to all the trouble, spent half the day shopping and cooking and now you say I shouldn't have bothered? All for the sake of a girl you met only a few minutes ago. I can't believe this of you Derek. Is that what you learned at university?"

Sarah finally managed to get a word in. "It alright Mrs. Meeks, we can go out another night. I didn't intend to cause any trouble."

"It's not you that's causing the trouble Sarah," I put in, "Had mother told me this morning I would have known but she springs this out of the blue and expects everyone to conform to her plans. No, we'll go for a meal like we planned." I could hear from Sarah's thoughts that she was upset about it. Fortunately Jean stepped in.

"Miriam, your son has worked his arse off for months and as soon as he comes home you make him come and work his arse off again with me. He's not a little boy now and can make up his own mind. Now, I've no doubt the food you've made will be more than enough for five or six if Jenny is home. Why not invite Sarah along and then they can go out for a drink at The Swan or wherever afterwards?"

<<"I don't really want that shop girl with my Derek but I suppose it will just be a short term thing.">> I felt my anger rise again but remembered to control it. Mother went on, "Perhaps you're right Jean. Would you like to come to dinner with us Sarah?"

"Please say yes," I added mainly for rather selfish reasons. Having Sarah alongside me would lighten the conversation a great deal and spare me mother's ideas of what I should do with my life.

"I don't know Derek, it seems that I have caused enough trouble already. Your mother doesn't really want me to be with you, she's made that quite clear. I don't want to come between you and your family." Sarah was very unhappy at this turn of events and so was I. "I'll go home and won't spoil your meal."

All my pleading didn't change her mind. Jean's thoughts came into my head. <<"Miriam deserves to have her arse kicked. The boy has been on cloud nine all day and now she ruins it.>>" I was beginning to get used to the language some women used in their thoughts. "Sorry Miriam, I have other plans for tonight. Pity you didn't give me a little more warning."

Mother's thoughts didn't bear repeating but all she said was, "Oh well, it will just be family then." With that she walked out.

"What are you going to do Derek?" Jean asked. I could tell she was most concerned.

"Probably go out and get sloshed." I said vehemently, "No I guess I won't do that. The first girl I was going out with for months and mother spoils it."

<<"If I were Derek I think I would go home and change and then drive to Sarah's and take her to The Swan. She might need some persuading but he seems quite good at that now.">> "Perhaps I'll give mum's dinner party a miss too. I won't be in the mood and might say some things I shouldn't." I put Jean's thoughts into different words.

For a moment I thought Jean must be able to read my thoughts too because she went to her purse and pulled out two twenty-pound notes and offered them to me. "Take her out Derek. I shall be offended if you don't take these. It is small enough payment for all you have done here." I tried to protest but could tell she really would be offended. For the hour or so left of the afternoon, I took myself into one on the bedrooms and angrily stripped off the wallpaper. Jean wisely left me alone until it was nearly time to pack up. "Derek," she said quietly, "I'm going to make some tea. Drink it and calm down, then decide what you are going to do. Remember your mother thought she was doing something good although it didn't work out that way."

Ripping off the wallpaper and Jean's words had calmed me considerably but I was determined that I wasn't going to let mother make me give up Sarah. I'd only known her a few hours but she'd already made a deep impression on me. At home I went straight into the bathroom and cleaned up and then dressed in my best casual clothes, grabbed my car keys and left without a word. Mother called as I passed through the kitchen, "You're not going out…You're not going to…" By then I had shut the door and was on my way.

Jean told me where Sarah lived and I found the place easily enough. It was a second floor flat in rather a run down area. Before ringing the bell I put the ring to the door. Sarah was crying and complaining about my mother. <<"Perhaps he is too good for me. I was never much good at school but he seemed to enjoy being with me the short time we had and I thought he was friendly and nice and we could laugh together. Pity he didn't tell the bitch to fuck off. Don't suppose I'll see him again unless he wants more sandwiches…">> Ding-dong, ding-dong. <<"Who's that I wonder, just as I was going to make something to eat.">>

I heard her footsteps coming to the door so I stood in front of the peephole half expecting to be welcomed with open arms. There was a rattle as the chain was slid on the door and it only opened a few inches. "Go away Derek, I'm not good enough for you so we might as well end it before we start."

"Sarah please, it is not a matter of whether or not either of us are good enough for each other or my mother for that matter. What does matter is that we like each other and get along and we won't know that if we don't spend some time with each other. Let me in please so we can at least talk about it." It took several more minutes of persuasion before she would let me in.

<<"My he does look smart without his dirty clothes on. Wouldn't mind a hug.">> I followed her through into the kitchen. "I bet your mother didn't send you, or did she?"

Instead of answering I took her in my arms and held her close and then kissed her forehead. <<"Oooh, this is not what I expected from Mr. University. Wonder if he'll kiss me properly?">>

I didn't but I took her hand and let her into the lounge and sat alongside her on the settee. "Sarah, I have no wish to be like mother and order you to have dinner with me but Jean found a couple of old notes to go with the coins so we could have a reasonable meal at The Swan without having to do the washing-up. You don't have to say yes. You can stay here and eat alone and I can go to McDonalds and get a burger. I'm not going to force you but I will be very pleased if you would say yes."

"What about your mother's celebration dinner? What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. I went in and cleaned up and came here. It will have to be a dinner party for three. Jean decided not to go." I could hear that she was wavering so I put my arm around her again and this time I did kiss her properly."

"You are pretty persuasive when you want to be Dr. Meeks." Her smile from the morning returned. "I'll go and get changed."

Before she left my mobile rang. Text message from Jenny. 'Wot U bin ^ to naughty boy? Ma furious. Phone me.' Sarah saw the message and grinned. "Naughty boy. Upsetting the family."

"Jenny won't be upset. She's probably laughing her head off."

I phoned her mobile and explained the situation. As I expected she thought it hilarious. "When you left this morning and I said, 'don't do anything I wouldn't do', I meant it. Guess I would have done the same. It's going to be a dinner party for two now. I'm at Ralph's. It won't be pleasant at home for a while. Hope Sarah is worth it." I turned the phone off in case mother decided to spoil the evening with another lecture.

The evening with Sarah was worth it. We had a really enjoyable time and laughed and joked with each other as if we had known each other for years. It was only as we neared her flat that she became very quiet. <<"I wonder if he expects to have sex with me after such a nice meal and being such good company. I think I would have let him if I had not just started my period. Terry never used to worry, he just fucked my arse but Derek would think me a real slut if I suggested that. Perhaps we can just sit and cuddle. Perhaps he won't expect me to give myself on a first date. Maybe this will be the only date if I don't let him. Perhaps he's had many of the girl students at Uni. Perhaps his mother will make so much fuss that he won't see me again…">>

"Cheer up. It's still only nine o'clock we've got time for a game of Monopoly or something before I have my bedtime cocoa." I joked, "That is if you will let me in to your home."

"Oh I don't know about that. Never know what you mad scientists will get up to." Her smile returned.

"Sarah," I spoke seriously, "I won't do anything you don't want to do. I've had a lovely time and if we just sit and talk some more that will be fine. If you want to go further, that will be fine too but don't think you have to because I bought you a meal – or rather Jean did!" In the end she made tea because there was no cocoa. While it was brewing, I had a quick tour of the flat. It was small, one bedroom, lounge, kitchen and bathroom. It was all quite clean but needing some decorating. I noticed the sewing machine in the lounge had a wedding dress on it. Another was over a nearby chair.

"It's Glenda Mayhew's," she informed me, "It came from a friend of hers and I'm altering it to fit. The other is one I made from scratch. I get quite a few sewing jobs now which helps to pay the bills. The shop only pays minimum wages but as I get off at three, I do have a little time to do things like this and the flat doesn't take much work to keep it reasonably clean."

For a while we sat and cuddled and kissed. I started feeling her breasts and she became a little aroused at that and I felt her hand rubbing at my prick. <<"That feels quite large. I wonder if I dare get it out and have a look? Sod the period. I would've liked to have taken him to bed. Been so long since I've had a man. Why do I always feel horny when I can't fuck?">> For a short while I wracked my brains as to how I could let her know I desired her without violating her bleeding vagina.

Placing my hand on top of the one that was rubbing my prick, I said in a baby voice, "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours. Would you do that?" I could have kicked myself for asking the question and was immediately apprehensive as to how she would answer.

For a few moments her face had that same tense look that I had seen when I asked Jean a question but she answered. "Yes, but you won't want to see me at this time in my monthly cycle."

"Okay, how about I get to see your titties instead?" Another question but one I thought I could risk.

"Okay. You are a naughty boy, just like your sister said," Sarah grinned but started to unbutton her blouse. Quickly she discarded it and her bra.

"Lovely, I've just got to suckle them." I fastened my lips around a nipple and sucked while gently massaging the fullness of her orbs. Once more I tuned in to her thoughts and used my hands to rub them in just the ways she wanted until it was obvious she was becoming very aroused and started to squirm violently under my caresses. Soon she seemed to have a small climax and then pushed me away.

"My turn. Get it out. Show me." She giggled like a schoolgirl and watched closely and I opened up my flies and brought my now hard prick into view. "Oooh it's big. I like it. Lie back, I want to kiss and suck it like you did me." Apart from yesterday in the shower with Jean, only once before had I managed to get a girl to suck me but Sarah was far more of an expert. Her mouth sucked me in and I knew it wouldn't be long before I exploded. From her thoughts I knew Terry had made her do it to him many times and even to some of his friends.

"I'm coming Sarah," I whispered. She just grinned and carried on. My spunk went into her mouth and down her throat. Only when I started to soften did she let up.

"You don't think I'm a slut for doing that?" she asked apprehensively.

"It was wonderful. Unexpected but wonderful. Thanks." I kissed her and we snogged for a while longer until I decided it was time I ought to leave. The bakers opened at eight in the morning and Sarah had to get there half an hour before that to set things out so she would need to get some sleep.

The lights were still on in the kitchen so, fully expecting another tirade from mother; it was with some trepidation that I entered the house. However, it seemed she was going to use my earlier tactics and not say a word to me. I went straight to my room but it was close to midnight before I fell asleep. My mind kept reliving the events of the day and wondering how my relationship with Sarah might develop and how I could smooth things over with mother.

End of Blog 3

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF NC. Punishment

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 4. Millicent

July 15th 2004

Again I woke early and, after a quick trip the loo, started scanning the old book again. I wondered if the peculiar whine of the scanner would disturb Jenny. It sounded loudly in the quietness of my room but when I placed the ring against the wall to listen to her thoughts, she remained asleep and I could not hear anything. Soon I had another eight double page spreads ready to read and type.

Millie

From the beginning the ring proved its worth. Sales of ale at the inn didn't really keep me and much of my income was from the maids I kept to service the sailors and from business deals I did with various stall holders at the market and the captains who brought in goods on the sly. What surprised me was how many people I thought were honest dealers were rogues at heart. Perhaps I was too. Any faults in an item were almost always concealed and never mentioned. Caveat emptor. However by reading their thoughts I could root out the hidden faults and either take a cut in price or refuse to buy. Likewise, if I was selling, I could often tell just how much a man would be prepared to pay whatever his bargaining words said. I guessed that in only a week or two I'd more than paid for the ring.

The ring came in useful when a young girl came and asked for a job at the inn. "Please sit at the table for a short while until I finish what I'm doing," I said and pottered behind the bar all the while listening to her thoughts. She was a runaway from an abusive family although she didn't go into details at that time. However I dragged it out of her when we talked. I tried to do this without asking too many direct questions. People forced to answer me in a way they wouldn't normally expect to answer, albeit they would tell the truth, always seemed a bit suspicious of me afterwards. One of my maids actually thought I did it with my eyes like a mesmerist and I didn't enlighten her or the others she told but ever since when asking a direct question I have looked directly into the person's eyes so many now believe I have that power.

"I'm Joshua," I greeted her and held out my hand.

"Fanny Bishop,"

"So Fanny Bishop, you think you would like to work here."

"Yes, sir. I am sure I can do a good job without too much training in your ways." She sounded quite confident.

"You realise that the work involves more than serving a few drinks and cleaning up."

"Yes sir. I'm experienced with men sir."

"You look very young to be experienced with many men Fanny."

"I'm fifteen sir." I knew that was a lie.

"You don't look it." I decided to risk a direct question. "How old are you really?" I held her eyes with mine. The look came on her face.

"Thirteen and a half sir," she said sheepishly.

"And at that young age, you have experience of men using your body." I tried to make the question sound like a statement.

"Yes sir. My father and four older brothers. They also sold me out to other men and beat me so that's why I left home. Any money I got went straight into father's pocket. I got nothing." I pressed her gently for further details. "It started soon after mother had too much to drink and fell into the river and never got out. That was a couple of years ago sir. I just had to do the cooking and stuff at first and then one night soon after we put ma into the earth, dad came into my small box room and carried me to his bed. When I screamed he hit me. By then all the boys were awake and came out to see what was going on and they watched while dad stripped my nightie off and took me. I cried and kicked but he was a docker and far too strong for me. He had me twice more before he left for work. Next day all my brothers decided they would have me too and so it's been going on like that for two years. Six months ago I was taken to a man who lived above a shop in Market Street and made to serve him. When dad collected me he was paid. When I resisted I was slapped or hit with a belt. Yesterday when I was taken to an ugly old man, while he had his trousers around his ankles, I ran off. Please sir, don't send me away. I know I'm not fourteen yet so am not old enough to really be one of your maids but no one will know."

I thought for a little while and then said, "Fanny, I am not going to run foul of the local sheriff's men by employing you as a maid and you will not be servicing any sailors or men until you are fourteen. That's another five months." I could see that surprised her, as she had not openly mentioned her birthday date. "But I will let you work in the kitchen and do cleaning in the bar and stuff. You won't get paid as much but you will get your food and a place to sleep and you'll learn what goes on from the other maids. I will also wish to sample your charms before letting you service my clients." She seemed pleased enough with this and gave me a kiss and when I took her to my bed she was grateful for my having employed her and was very responsive to my desires. I wish I'd had the ring when I employed Millicent Cavendish but she came to the inn a week or so before Jock gave it to me. Fortunately, and in a great part it was due to my possession of the ring, it worked out well in the end.

Millie was a vivacious, dark haired girl of seventeen. She quickly became very popular with the sailors and I found I could charge a premium for her services. However, several times I had suspicions that she took more than I received payment for. Her thoughts didn't reveal much because her mind was usually on other things. My suspicions were confirmed about two months after she arrived.

Captain Jenkins of the collier 'Nancy' came in while I was at breakfast. The captain, a wiry and rather secretive man, visited the inn regularly when in London, but he hadn't been nigh for several months until the previous evening. Apparently he'd had a contract to take coal to Dover instead of London. Oddly to my mind, Captain Jenkins always seemed to have money to spend and at each visit would take a maid for the whole night. This at a time when colliers didn't make much money so I guessed he had a more lucrative sideline that I didn't know of. However in the inn he spent his money fairly freely.

"Morning Capt'n," I greeted him, "I thought you were sailing on the early morning tide."

"Aye we should have but the bloody old steam tugboat burst a pipe so we couldn't get a tow down river and with the wind like it is, there is no way we could sail out of the dock." I could tell this wasn't the reason for his early morning visit and that he was troubled and wasn't sure how to broach the subject. His thoughts said,<<"How can I tell him that I think that Millie girl is a thief? Especially with his two henchmen over there.">>

"Is there something wrong Capt'n?" I asked a direct question knowing he would have to give me an honest answer.

"Well yes there is Joshua. We've known each other for many years now and the men and me have always had fair dealings with you. I know you do your best to keep your girls under control and ensure they give us good and honest service." He eyed Jack and Tiny sitting and watching us. "Well it's like this. I know I'd had a few last night but I wasn't dead drunk or anything. Hell I even walked the gangplank on to the Nancy without help. As you know I took the new girl Millie and spent most of the night with her but had to leave about midnight so as to be ready for this morning's tide. I got up about four and went to look at my watch and discovered it was missing. You know the gold watch as I showed it to you early in the evening. Well I know I could have lost it on the way to the ship but I doubt it so I suspect that minx Millie may have taken it thinking I would be away by daybreak. To either prove she stole it or not, what I'd like you to do is to check over her stuff before she has time to get it to the market."

"Capt'n I'll do just that and I've a feeling you may be right about that wench. I think she may have done this sort of thing a couple of times but nothing I could lay my finger on especially as the sailors had left and I only had the hearsay remarks of others. We'll sort this out straightaway." I called to Tiny. "Go to Millie's room and bring her here. Just go and grab her out of her bed and carry her down. Don't let her do anything or go anywhere. Understand?"

Tiny, so called because of his huge size, grinned, "I sure do Josh. Just burst in and bring her down even if she ain't got clothes on." I nodded.

A few moments later there was a commotion on the stairs and Millie was brought into the bar room, kicking, screaming and swearing but it stopped and she turned pale when she saw Captain Jenkins. <<"He should have gone! I bet he's complained to Joshua about the fuckin' watch. Still they may not find it under the bottom drawer. I'll tell them he must have lost it.">> However for all her thoughts the look on her face was one of guilt and even the captain could see that.

"Millicent Cavendish," I started formally, "From the look on your face I can tell you know why you've been brought here." The girl struggled and broke free for a few moments but Jack stopped her before she had gone a couple of paces. "Sit her in a chair and hold her there," I ordered my two men. They did so and I could tell they were enjoying the sight of Millie's breasts and they heaved inside her short night-shirt.

When she was settled but still looking a little defiant I decided to try direct questions. "Millicent, I believe you stole the captain's gold watch last night." She turned her head. <<"I mustn't look into his eyes or he will make me answer truthfully,">> her thoughts told me. "Look at me Millie. Tiny hold her head so that she does." I ordered and stared direct at her. She squirmed in the chair but couldn't avoid looking at me. "Did you steal Captain Jenkins' watch?"

"Yes sir. I'm sorry sir I know I should've done it. It was bright and shiny and I was tempted."

"And where is it now Millie?"

"Under the bottom drawer of my tallboy sir. What are you going to do about it sir? You going to turn me over to the polies?"

"I will discus what is to be done with you with Capt'n Jenkins. It was his watch that you stole." Turning to Fanny who was behind the bar pouring a tankard for a sailor from the Nancy, I instructed her to look for the watch and then asked my two men to take Millie to the far corner and hold her there. She started protesting again when Tiny just picked her up with one hand under her crotch and carried her out of our way. By now the commotion had roused the other maids and they came into the bar in various stages of undress to see what was going on. Shortly Fanny brought the watch to us. "Thank you Fanny, give it to the captain." He checked it and it was still working.

"I'm reluctant to send for the police Capt'n because I don't want them nosing around here and it may be inconvenient for you if they want you to accuse her and to take your evidence. That could take all day and you'll miss the next tide or two at least," I pointed out.

"She's got to be punished Joshua otherwise she'll do it again and again and others might not be so lucky. What do you suggest? It seems you have something in mind." I whispered my suggestion to him and he agreed with a grin.

I've never thought of myself as a particularly cruel man, not like some of the brothel keepers I knew, but I did have a penchant for seeing young ladies having their bottoms chastised. This was especially true if I knew I would be able to get my prick into their cunnies while their bums were still hot. At one time or another I had chastised all my maids. Usually no more than a hand smacking, but I have used the strap and cane although that was reserved for most serious offences. Only once did I birch a girl and then only because three customers in a row complained of her poor attitude to them when they'd bought her services. Normally I gave all the punishments in the back room with only a few onlookers; those that were involved in the offence or as an example to other maids who might be tempted to do the same. The theft of the valuable gold watch and the blackening of my reputation were much more serious. I signalled to my men to bring Millie to us. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. <<"What are they going to do to me? I don't think they will send for the polies or they would have done that by now so they'll probably give me a good hiding. With what? The cane? The birch? I'm sure they've something schemed up by the way they were huddled together.">> Thus were the musings in her mind as the men brought her over. She was very afraid we were going to seriously hurt her and she wasn't wrong but I didn't intend to mar you body for future customers.

"Lock the doors and shutter the windows," I ordered those who were already in the room. Many of them were sailors off the Nancy who had come along to see their captain got a fair hearing. Millie's wailing got louder. She understood that whatever punishment she would get would be done in front of everyone and she rightly guessed it would be done with some severity. She started to plead with us but we ignored her.

"Millicent Cavendish you stole a very valuable gold watch from my good friend the Captain of the Nancy. I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour from any of my servants. Not only is stealing a crime in itself but it is also very bad for my business. Sailors come here because they expect to have a little fun, fun for which they have paid, and they do not expect to be robbed while they are having it by some conniving young whore."

"I won't do it again sir, not ever," Millie interrupted.

"No you won't Millie, not when you remember the punishment you are to receive," I went on. "Capt'n Jenkins and I have agreed on two choices you can take. There were three but we agreed not to involve the police, the polies as you call them. You would be sure to be convicted, birched and sent to prison for a long while or shipped off to the prison colony in Australia. You've probably heard from the sailors who do that trip what it is like for the women on board those ships. We decided against that mainly because of the inconvenience to the captain and to my business." <<Get on with it you pompous prick. Tell me the worst. Stop dragging it out.">> Actually I was enjoying doing just that and I had the attention of the customers and the maids I employed. It would be a good lesson for them too.

"As I said there are two choices and you can take either one. The first is that I hand you over to Capt'n Jenkins and you will sail with him until such time the Nancy berths in London again. He will punish you severely once the ship is under way and out of sight of others and where only the sea birds will hear your screams. Afterwards you will have to service him and the crew for the duration of your time on board. I'll let the captain tell you of the sort of punishment you can expect."

"Stealing between crew members is always considered a dastardly crime and is always punished by a flogging. We would treat you in a similar fashion. You would be strung up naked and flogged front and back with the rope's end till you were well striped from neck to knees. Back, arse, tits, belly and cunt. Afterwards you would be bound over the hatch and anyone who wanted would fuck you in any of your holes. I know that may seem cruel but had it not been for the steam tug not working I would have lost a watch that I cherished dearly and not just for its value."

I knew the captain really didn't want the woman on his ship. She could cause a lot of friction and anger amongst the crew so he deliberately painted the bleakest picture of what he would do to her. <<"Oh my God, I would never survive that and I hate the sea. I'd be seasick and still be fucked by twenty or so sailors. He can't mean that to be a real choice.">> "The other option is for you to be punished here. You will be whipped like the sailors would and then the captain will have you and I will afterwards. It will be done in this room with those who are here now watching. Afterwards you may continue to live and work here provided there is not a repetition of any stealing from clients. No stealing at all, not even a copper coin. One other thing, whenever Capt'n Jenkins is in port you will service him for the whole night not only without charge but you will pay me the fee I would normally get from him.

For a few moments I thought Millie was going to faint. Her thoughts, which had been in a whirlwind of turmoil, suddenly went blank. My two men held her until she recovered. "Make your choice now Millie."

"I can't. Both are too horrible. I would never survive," she wailed.

"Then we will make it for you. The theft took place in this establishment so the punishment will be done here. Remove her night-dress Tiny." Jack held her while Tiny took off the garment. She struggled a bit and tried to hide her breasts but the men quickly forced her arms behind her back. I bade one of the sailors remove the big oil lamp from the hook in the ceiling beam and another deftly tied a rope around her wrists and drew them up to the hook. The ceilings in the old inn weren't very high so Millie's hands almost touched the hook. She started screaming again and I was forced to gag her so as not to attract outside attention but her struggles had more or less ceased. In the flickering light of the lamps we'd had to light after closing the shutters, her body looked very pale but it wouldn't be that way for long.

"Gentlemen," I did a slight bow to the sailors who were watching. I think they all had erections and one or two had them exposed and were rubbing them. "On board his ship, your captain proposed to use a rope's end to flay this wicked wench. From what I understand of it, the strands at the end of the rope are unwound for a couple of feet to give three tails to the rope. Some ships have nicely knotted and decorated ones. I don't have one here but I do have a martinet, or at least that is what the Frenchman who made it said it was called when he gave it to me. Fanny, would you pass the whip to me, it's hanging by the door post at the back of the bar."

I showed everyone, including Millie, the fine black leather, six-tailed whip. Each of the eighteen-inch tails was delicately braided and the handle was finely worked with sennet and other knotting. It was a lovely piece of craftsmanship, which I'd kept on display for six months without ever having used it for its intended purposes. Now seemed a fitting time to try it out. "Rickard, the Frenchman, told me it will hurt and mark the flesh but unless used with ferocity, should not break the skin," I informed those present.

"The rope's end is for men," the captain remarked, "This will do fine for the young thief."

In our earlier discussion I had agreed he could whip her front and I would do the back. I passed him the martinet and he gave it a few trial swings. Millie's thoughts indicated her terror and I believed she might pass out on us again but in fact, although she wanted to, she remained awake for the whole of her punishment. Capt'n Jenkins started on the front of her thighs and raised some nasty looking red lines. Had she not been gagged I have no doubt there would have been a fearful noise. The martinet fell a little higher with each stroke and the captain worked quickly and steadily to cover the whole of her front. Millie moved around as much as she was able but being tied to the hook she couldn't get away from the lash. Capt'n Jenkins was grinning and muttering, "You won't steal from me again you little hussy." I looked around and saw most of the men now had their pricks in their hands. One of the maids was helping a sailor but otherwise they looked at Millie with some sympathy, probably knowing that they could feel the kiss of the martinet at some time in the future if they misbehaved.

When he reached poor Millie's tits, the captain delighted in making them move around as he lashed them from the underneath, the top and fully across the nipples. I could tell Millie was nearly ready to fall asleep on us so I bade him desist after about a dozen strokes to them and we left her for a few moments before I took up the martinet. I decided to start at the shoulders and work down. I didn't try to hit overly hard but all the same the fiery red stripes appeared on what was white flesh. I put more power into the strokes when I reached her arse because there was plenty of flesh there to take the punishment. Finally, after I had striped the back of her thighs I asked my two men to pull her legs apart and swished four good upward strokes right on her cunt.

Some of the sailors cheered and I noticed many of their pricks were now soft so I guessed there would be some mess on the floor to clean up. We untied Millie from the hook and laid her face down over the end of a table. The poor girl writhed and struggled but Jack and Tiny held her while the captain rammed his prick up her hole. His arousal must have been great because in no time he spent within her and it was my turn. I tried to control myself a little more but the earlier sights and the feel of her red-hot bum against my loins soon had me spitting my load. I knew the girl couldn't take much more abuse at this time so I told Tiny to carry her to her room and for two of the maids to attend to her. There were loud wails as the gag was removed but soon they quietened to wretched sobs. A couple of hours later the captain asked if he could have her one last time before he boarded his ship. I agreed and the noise started again. This time he took longer but he seemed satisfied and thanked me for the trouble I had taken to get his watch returned and to punish the culprit.

Millie wasn't able to work for several days and the welts took a long while to disappear but afterwards I had no further trouble with her.'

That passage from the book shocked and horrified me but it at the same time it aroused me. Unlike the fictional stories I accessed on the Internet, this one was true. It really happened. In some ways I was disgusted with myself for having a rigid hard-on from reading of the poor girl's suffering and defilement. I wondered what I would be like if I had mastery over a woman like that. Would I be as cruel? I didn't think so and yet I found the thought of spanking a naked girl and having sex with her afterwards, very erotic. Probably because whipping was a common enough punishment in those times, it wasn't considered particularly unusual or wrong. As each page came up on the screen I felt the need to rub my erection and before I'd finished reading the passage, I needed a tissue to capture my emission. By then it was time to dress and get some breakfast.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 5. Mother's revelations

16th July 2004

Mother was waiting for me when I arrived in the kitchen that morning. "So how did your oh-so-important date with that shop girl go?" She fixed me with an icy stare. "The date you had to miss my dinner party for and warned Jean and Jenny not to come? And after I had spent all that time preparing a celebration meal specially for you." Even without the aid of the ring, I knew this was a gross exaggeration but mother continued for several more minutes before giving me a chance to answer.

"We had a very nice time, thank you," I replied as calmly as I could. "We went to the Swan and then went back to her place for coffee." <<"And fucked her I suppose. Probably that is all she is good for. Perhaps she just wants to trap him into another marriage. If he just wants her for casual sex, that's okay I suppose, but I hope it won't go further than that. He's far too good for her.">> "She's actually very intelligent you know mum," I tried to ignore her thoughts, "And very clever with her hands. You ought to see the beautiful wedding dress she is making for someone."

"And I suppose she had her hands all over you."

"I don't know why you are so against her mother. I've only known her for a few hours and yet you seem to think I'm on the point of marrying her." Mother turned away and sat on a stool near the TV. It wasn't on but she stared at it as though it was. Her mind went back many years. By now I had become used to seeing the pictures conjured up in peoples minds as well as hearing the words that were spoken. She seemed to be lying in a hollow in the centre of a half built haystack with a boy cuddling her.

<<"You're sure no one will come to finish this rick off, Les Larkins?">> My ears pricked up although the thoughts came straight into my head. Sarah's family name was Larkins and she had reverted to using it after her divorce. I didn't yet know the family well enough to know her father's first name but if it was Les… I drank my tea slowly trying not to look at mother in case she suspected I was listening in to her thoughts and seeing the images in her mind like on a film. "<<"Naw, Miriam. They've all gone to the cattle market today to sell off a few heifers. We'll be alright here if we don't make too much noise." They kissed for a while and Les's hand found its way inside her blouse. Miriam giggled but didn't attempt to stop him. He exposed her breasts. "Do you like them?" she asked. "Sure do. They look good and taste good." There was only a token resistance when Les unbuttoned the side of her pleated skirt and began to push it down. "You shouldn't be doing that," she whispered. "But I know you want me to and I want to as well. You wouldn't have come up here with me if you didn't. We're going to go all the way today Miriam so don't pretend you don't want to feel my prick inside you." Les put his hand in her knickers and massaged her young cunt. "I can tell you want it, 'cos you're all wet." With that he pushed her knickers right down and took them off. Miriam lay there exposed to the sunlight, blushing furiously but she didn't attempt to regain her skirt or knickers. "Let me see you," Miriam said quietly, "I want to see it and feel it before we do it." Unbuttoning his flies she took out his hard prick and held it so she could see it for a few moments. "Kiss it," Les ordered. She did so and acquiesced when he pushed it inside her mouth. After a short while he pulled out. "Open your legs girl, I'm going to fuck you this time." Miriam did so. "Go easy Les, you know I've never done it before." Les didn't heed her over much. Once he'd entered, he pushed hard and broke her hymen. A small scream escaped Miriam's lips but the pain turned to pleasure shortly after when Leslie pounded into her. Fortunately he remembered to pull out just in time and sprayed her stomach with his seed.>>

I became aroused again watching my mother lose her virginity and had to surreptitiously move my prick into a more comfortable position. The scene changed rapidly to the inside of a house, probably the front room. Miriam and Leslie were sitting on a couch cuddling and kissing. <<"I love you Miriam, love you will all my heart. One day when we are old enough I am going to marry you." Les kissed and fondled her while speaking his words of love.>>

"She must have only been fifteen or so, the boy looks very young," I thought as the scene changed again. Miriam peered through a hedge.

<<"The bastard. The lying bastard. Two days ago he professed his undying love for me and there he is with Emily Fellows, fucking her like he's fucked me.">> Emily lay on the grass the other side of the hedge with her skirts up and knickers around one ankle. Leslie had his prick inside her cunt and both looked like they were enjoying themselves. "You still poking that slut Miriam Williams, Les?" Emily asked. "Yeah, she's a good fuck but I'll have to chuck her soon so I can spend more time with you. She's a bit of a snob and wants me all to herself. Poor slut thinks I really intend to marry her." Both of them laughed at what seemed to them to be a hilarious joke.>>

It was becoming almost an embarrassment to learn of my mother's sexual inclinations. First I hear she cheats on my father at her bridge club and then of her teenage experiences. Up until the ring's revelations, I had believed mother to be chaste and I hardly credited that she even had sex with dad. Mother suddenly turned and looked at me. For a moment I wondered if she knew I was listening and seeing her thoughts but it didn't seem like it. She asked, "Are you seeing her tonight?"

"No not until Saturday. She has two dresses to finish by Saturday morning. I'll probably pop into the shop if they are not busy."

"Well you can get your own tea tonight. I'm not cooking and it all goes to waste." To save further argument, I got up and left the house. There was no real need for me to help Jean any more but I liked the woman and it wasn't just because of the sex we'd had. There was still plenty of stripping of wallpaper and paintwork to do but there was no real urgency for these things to be done. The builders would have to do a lot of work before decorating could start but at least removing all the old paper and paint showed up areas the builders would need to repair and the extent of any rot.

"Morning Jean," I called out as I entered.

"Morning Derek, you can have a day off if you like. There's nothing I need a strong man for…" She stopped in mid sentence and started to laugh at what she was going to say. "Well perhaps there is but this is neither the time nor the place for it!"

"I can't think what you mean Mrs. McCready," I grinned too. "I had to get out of our house and the weather isn't all that nice for going to the coast."

"So you thought you help an old lady out." Jean had that infectious smile again. "I guess you must have gone out if Miriam was pissed off with you this morning. How did it go? Did you take Sarah to The Swan?" I gave her an outline of what happened and she seemed pleased for me. "You'll be wanting to do the sandwich run again today I suppose," she kidded me.

"Mum seems to have more against Sarah than just her being a shop girl," I commented hoping it would bring some further information.

Jean seemed to wait a longer time than normal before replying. "Sarah's father jilted her when they were still teenagers. Not much out of school. She thought she was his only lover but he had a whole string of them. Even when he married Sally, Sarah's mother, he still carried on with other women until she threw him out or he left and moved in with another woman. Eventually Sally remarried and has been living with the same man ever since. As you know, Sarah married Terry Machin but he was much like her father so she moved out and divorced him. There were all sorts of rumours at the time but that is the bare bones of the story." I didn't really need any more, Jean had told me enough for me to know why my mother hated Sarah so that I wouldn't have to reveal that I knew from my ring.

I saw Sarah only briefly in the shop and when she stopped by Jean's on the Thursday and Friday. She said she had more to do on the dresses and they had asked for another complete dress for a bridesmaid they'd added at the last moment. Jenny phoned mid afternoon. "What is the naughty boy doing for dinner tonight?" She asked. When I said I'd pick up a pizza she suggested we had a celebration meal at home.

"Don't wind me up Jenny, it was bad enough this morning."

"I'm serious Derek, mum's having a bridge evening so I thought we could heat up the left-overs and have a real family dinner with us and dad."

This sounded better than a pizza but I couldn't resist a dig at her. I almost asked direct questions but managed to change the wording before I spoke. "I'm not doing the cooking so I suppose I get to find out how Ralph is to suffer. I'd have thought you'd rather spend the evening with Ralph"

"You'll survive, I guarantee it. And Ralph has a conference this weekend so I decided I'd give the house a miss for one night."

We actually had a very pleasant meal with just the three of us. Even dad was more talkative than usual. I suppose that for once he could actually get a word in. I mentioned what Jean had said about mum and Sarah's father which was a surprise to Jenny but not of course to dad. He'd had a couple of glasses of wine with the meal as well as two cans of beer while we prepared it, so he spoke freely.

"I more or less met your mother on the rebound of that. For a while after she shunned boys but she'd been having sex a lot with Les Larkins and I guessed she missed not having a boyfriend. I was available and she thought I was reliable and at that time we enjoyed each other's company. I married her as soon as I knew she was pregnant with you Derek." He paused to let this sink in but years ago I'd worked out that mother was a pregnant bride and so had Jenny. He shocked us more when he went on, "I've been faithful to her all these years but I know she's had others… and this bridge club isn't all about playing cards…I know by the smell of her and the stuff oozing out of her…" Dad stopped knowing he'd said too much. Jenny looked like she couldn't believe it at first but then shook her head as she came to terms with it. Neither of us spoke but I heard dad thinking. <<"I shouldn't have had that wine on top of the beer. Still I expect they'll find out sooner or later. When they leave home perhaps I'll move out too. Not much of a life here now. Get to fuck her once or twice a month if I'm lucky while others have her at least weekly.">>

Jenny's thoughts were in a similar vein. <<"Poor old dad. She gets her jollies and he has to put up with her bitchiness. Wonder why he does? Wonder if he'll leave her or throw he out when we go?">>

I decided to take the bull by the horns and ask a direct question knowing I would get an honest answer. "Dad, do you think you will spend the rest of your life with mother?" Jenny gave me a shocked look.

"No son, to he honest, I don't think so. Both of you will be gone soon so there'll be less reason to stay unless things change drastically. There's no other woman at the moment but for several years I have been making some provision for a possible rift between us."

"Have you talked to mother about it? Does she know that you know about the bridge club?" Jenny asked.

"Not really. Every time I try to talk to her she goes off and talks non-stop about something else." We all knew what he meant.

"You would rather she changed her ways than you having to move out though." Again Jenny asked a leading question.

"I guess so. The early years of our marriage were okay but she had her hands full looking after you two and we were struggling to make ends meet financially. It was when she had time on her hands and I was making enough money so she no longer needed to work, that things started to get worse."

"We need to try and sort something out dad." Jenny remarked. Dad protested that we shouldn't interfere but my reading of his mind told me he would actually welcome some help. He would get nowhere on his own.

Dad broke open another beer but neither Jenny or I wanted any more alcohol. A game show was on the TV but I was more interested in Jenny's thoughts. She envisioned the bridge club as being some sort of wild sex swap group and her imagination ran riot with the activities they got up to. However, we found out later, that her thoughts were very close to being correct. Her mental plans for dealing with mother were also vivid and extreme. At one point she had mother stripped and tied to a chair so we could examine her to see if she'd had sex and then threaten her with dad's belt in order to get her to tell us the truth and make amends to dad. At ten o'clock Dad decided he'd had enough beer and went to bed. Both Jenny and I had hoped he would stay up and combine with us to confront mother but perhaps it was better this way.

When we were alone I said," I'm not totally sure we should get involved with mum and dad's love life." I tried to bring the subject up with Jenny without asking a direct question.

"Of course we should," Jenny replied vehemently. "She's interfered with mine enough and now she's definitely meddling with yours. Had it not been for dad, I would never have seen Ralph for more than a few times and I certainly wouldn't have been marrying him in a few weeks. We owe it to dad to try and save his marriage or to get them to make a clean break. If the bridge club is only a front for a sex club, then we need to find out for sure and deal with her in the light of what we find out."

"It's going to be very difficult to find out the truth. She'll certainly deny any sex was involved." I hoped she had some idea of how we were going to get mother to admit the truth without me using the ring to any great extent.

Jenny astonished me when she proposed the method I had read in her thoughts. It seemed a very risky way to find out and I voiced my concerns. My arguments against it were all countermanded by a typical sisterly stubbornness until finally she said, "Well, you haven't a better idea have you Mr. Higher Education?" I hadn't. "We'll need to be ready when she comes home and for that I'll need your help." To my surprise it all went to plan.

"Oh so you could spend an evening at home tonight then but not when I arrange a party for you," Mother started sniping at us as soon as she entered the kitchen and saw us still up. It was after eleven.

"Sit down mother, we need to talk to you about all this," Jenny spoke putting a note of command in her voice.

"I don't think there is really anything more you can say. An apology would go some way to consoling me but that is probably too much too expect from you two." However she did slump resignedly into the chair. I quickly looped the piece of clothesline around her body and the chair and pulled it tight.

"Eeeek! What are you..." Her words were cut short when Jenny whipped out the length of packaging tape we'd hidden under the table and placed it across her mouth. She then helped me to get further loops of the rope around mother and we tied the ends securely.

"Mum, we have reason to believe you have been cheating on daddy and that you don't just play cards at your bridge club. No normal club would go on this late and you wouldn't come in looking a little bedraggled and flushed." Jenny started on mother. We both sat facing her. "We know that if we asked you straight-out, you would deny it so I'm going to check your vagina for signs of intercourse." Mother shook her head vigorously but there was little she could do. Jenny unzipped the side of her skirt and while I lifted her the small amount the ropes would allow, she pulled the skirt and knickers down. I watched as Jenny opened mother's cunt so we could see all the sperm. "I think that is proof enough don't you Derek?"

"Yes," I agreed, "Definitely at least one man has been in there, perhaps more than one." I tried to sound objective even though the sight of seeing mother's cunt for the first time, rather embarrassed me. Jenny had no such qualms.

"I'll check her breasts as well." My sister undid mother's blouse and then did that trick women do to remove a bra by pulling it out of their sleeves. Both breasts showed suck and little bite marks and on the underneath of one was the remains of a lipstick imprint. Mother was blushing and now looked very crestfallen. "The bridge club is really a sex club isn't it?" Jenny asked; mother barely nodded.

Having got this far with her I decided I wanted to know the full extent of what happened at these meetings. First I ripped the tape from her mouth and then taking her head in my hands, I made her look into my eyes. "What exactly went on at your bridge club today?" I asked. I saw the look cross her face as she tried to resist answering but it was no use. She felt compelled to answer and she did so at length. Her voice sounded a little strained but she spoke clearly and in a matter of fact way as if she was reading the minutes of any ordinary club meeting.

"I went to the Pendergast's after lunch and had a glass of wine while we waited for the others to arrive. They had arranged for two tables today so there were eight of us; four men and four women. The Pendergast's and another couple are married but for the meetings they pretend not to be and there were four singles. I hope you don't wish me to name names. We started to play bridge about three o'clock. This was a normal bridge game except under our rules the losers have to submit themselves to the winners for ten minutes. We throw a dice and if it comes up even, the loser submits to a winner of the same sex, and to the opposite sex if it comes up to an odd number. No actual fucking is done but before the end of the ten minutes the losers are naked from the waist down. My partner and I won that rubber and the die came up evens so I removed Helen's skirt, all the ladies have to wear a skirt, and knickers and fingered and kissed her cunt."

Once again I was surprised at the language women used in their thoughts and, at times like this, when they put those thoughts into words. I began to get an erection when I saw the vision of the older woman's hairy vagina in mother's mind.

"We changed partners for the next rubber and again I was on the winning pair. Again the die came up evens and the losing woman had already lost her skirt so I took off her blouse and suckled her tits. They were pretty big tits even though they had sagged a fair bit but I enjoyed kneading the soft flesh and nibbling at her nipples. We changed partners again but my luck didn't change. At the end of the third rubber I was the only one clothed and three people were naked. My loser had only lost his trousers so I quickly stripped him of his shirt and, as his prick was stiff from previous fondling, I played and sucked it. Before the ten minutes were up, he shot his spunk into my mouth. The others ribbed me about being the only one dressed and I didn't really want to be so I stripped off. That was mistake because I lost the next rubber and being already naked, I had to submit to a spanking. We're not spanked hard but even after a ten minute spanking, my arse was tender. A man and a woman were spanked as well and the others laughed when we squealed and pretended we were being seriously hurt."

I glanced across at Jenny sitting open mouthed and these revelations. She'd thought about the rude things they might get up to but wasn't expecting anything as kinky as this. As I glanced at her a second time, I noticed dad sitting on the bottom of the stairs. He put a finger to his lips as a signal for me not to say anything. Mother couldn't see him from where she was sitting and in her monotone voice carried on with her description of the afternoon and evening events.

"We only play four rubbers of bridge and then have a break. A break for sex. We've each got little buttons with our name on and these are put into a bag. Mary Prendergast will pull one out and call out the name and then say, 'and will partner' and will draw another name from the bag. Again it could be some one of the same gender or the opposite. I partnered the man I sucked off earlier. The house has two large bedrooms each with a king-size bed. Two pairs use the same bed. I managed to get my man erect enough to enter me and he fucked me hard for a long while but it wasn't until I had screamed out two climaxes that he came in me. We then did a bit of sixty-nining to clean each other. Alongside me two men were fucking. One had already shot his load up the other's arse and now his arse was being buggered. We are forced under club rules to accept lesbianism and homosexuality. The two could have just sucked each other but they chose bum fucking. We stayed in the bedroom until they'd finished and then went to see what was happening in the second bedroom. The man/woman couple had obviously finished and were watching the lesbian activity. One woman was on her back, Her tits were red so I guessed they'd been well mauled and suckled and now her cunt was being attended to."

Mother paused for breath and then went on. "We had a break for tea after that session. We all keep a robe in Mary's wardrobe and put these on and went back into the lounge or helped to bring prepared plates of sandwiches and stuff through. It provided a much-needed rest. After tea we cleared the dining table in centre of the lounge to play Forfeits, a board game which we have altered over the years to include some of the sexiest and most disgusting forfeits imaginable and it is not always the one getting the forfeit that suffers. The man next to me was instructed to nibble and suck the tits of the woman on his left. That's how I got the marks on mine. There are mandatory punishments if a person refuses to do a forfeit and they are so punitive that rarely does anyone not comply. Twenty lashes on the bare arse plus six on the cunt or prick is the stipulated punishment. Helen almost had it when her card said to take any man into the toilet and put his prick in her mouth and drink his piss. We all crowded in to watch but fortunately for her, the man had pissed after tea so there wasn't too much." Jenny gave a little cry of disgust but mother didn't seem to hear it. "There are two piles of forfeit cards, pink for the girls and blue for the boys although many of them are the same. I guess there are over a hundred in each pile so rarely do the same cards get drawn at the various meetings. I had to lick a man's arsehole, have my cunt spanked twenty times by a woman, had a man ram his cock in my arse and leave it there for a round without him moving it, and I had my nipples tied round with string for so long that they went blue. Finally we had a normal boy/girl fuck session which is why I came home with my cunt full of spunk."

For a little while we sat in silence. Jenny broke it. "Daddy, do you remember what you did to me when you caught me being fucked by Jimmy Freestone?"

"I tanned your bottom good and hard. You were only fifteen at the time."

Mother turned and noticed his presence for the first time. "Oh my God, no. You heard all that Ray?"

"Perhaps you should tan mother's bottom in like manner daddy. What she's done is far worse than what I did."

"NO! No, Ray, please no. I'm tired now. Please, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." Mother started pleading but dad seemed to delight in the thought and I noticed how his pyjamas bulged in the front. I was having a similar problem.

"Untie her Derek please," dad requested and when I did so he picked her up and laid her across his lap. She kicked and did her utmost to avoid the punishment but father's superior strength prevailed. We'd removed her skirt and underwear so there was no protection from the hard slaps he laid on her bottom. Being a manual worker, dad had hard, callused hands so we knew she was feeling real pain this time and not the mild spankings she had at the club and her cries were no pretence. Dad didn't spare her. It seemed as if he wanted to take his revenge for all the misery his wife had caused him over the years. In no time at all she was crying and sobbing but he didn't stop until Jenny told him quietly that it was enough. For a while Dad just held her but suddenly he carried her to the bathroom. We heard the clatter of the toilet seat as it was dropped to the pan followed shortly by a yell.

"Careful, my arse hurts," mother yelled and started crying again. We heard the tinkle of her pee over the sobbing and shortly after squeal as dad carried her into the bedroom and dumped her on the bed and we could hear mother's wails as dad fucked her hard.

"Wow that was some revelation. How did you get her to talk like that bro? I never thought she would tell us. Did you study hypnotism at Uni?" I just laughed and said that I didn't know how I did it, "It just happens."

Next morning mother was very subdued when she eventually came down to breakfast and sat gingerly at the table. I gave her a hug and a kiss and Jenny did the same. "You made me so ashamed," she said, "I don't know how you made me say all that but it seems likely that your dad will forgive me and I hope you will to."

On Friday Sarah looked tired when she called in at Jean's and on the Saturday when I picked her up as she left work she was exhausted. The final dress was only completed at two o'clock that morning so she'd had little sleep. When I suggested we go out for a meal, she asked if I would mind staying in and sampling her cooking. "I don't feel like dressing up to go out so you'll see me at my worst. The meal won't be much and you'll have to help but it might be good training for when you live on your own," she gave a tired smile. I agreed and gave her a cuddle and said for her not to worry. By early afternoon she was almost asleep on her feet so I took her into the bedroom and despite her protests, undressed her and put her to bed. I undressed too and crept in alongside her but almost as soon as I cradled her in my arms, she fell asleep. I dozed on an off but for most of the time I lay awake and enjoyed the feel of her body against mine. My mind kept revisiting the events of the previous evening and the revelations about the bridge club activities. I had a full erection but didn't dare rub it for fear of waking Sarah.

It was well after six in the evening before she opened her eyes. I kissed her gently and gave her a little squeeze. "That's a nice way to wake up Derek," she beamed as she hugged me back, and then saw the time. "Oh Derek, sorry I should have started cooking ages ago. What will you think of me when I promise to cook and then fall asleep."

"I might think that it is better to have a beautiful naked young lady in bed with me and to make love to her!" I grinned and when she laughed back I knew she could feel my erection against her belly.

<<"I'd like that too. I wonder if he's been playing with me, I feel wet already.">> "Mmmm. That might be nice," she said aloud. We fucked gently and, as with Jean, I found I could respond to her thoughts and wishes to give us both a great deal of pleasure.

Ring of Truth Blog 6

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 6. Joshua gets a mistress

20th July 2004

Sarah trembled slightly as we walked hand in hand into the kitchen on Sunday morning. Jenny sat at the table looking through the paper and drinking her coffee. She looked up and grinned mischievously when we she saw us. "Oh, has my big brother been a naughty boy and spent the night with his girlfriend? I hope you made him sleep on the couch Sarah," she teased.

"Certainly not Jenny. Did you think I would pass up the chance to cuddle a teddy bear in bed?" I was glad Sarah could respond in kind to Jenny's remark.

"Where's mother?" I mouthed silently in case she was within earshot. I expected her to be getting ready for church at this time.

"They're both in their bedroom," Jenny replied, still smiling. "They came down about half past eight in their dressing gowns and made a pot of tea and some toast then went back to bed again. Mum's bum is still tender. She forgot herself and sat down a bit hard and had to jump up again and rub herself. Sounded as if Dad was doing it again a bit later." Sarah looked a bit puzzled by Jenny's remark but I didn't enlighten her until we were alone. "It's all quiet again now. What you up to today?"

"Going to Sandswick. Would you mind chatting to Sarah while I shave and change?" I suddenly remembered that it was a question. Luckily her honest answer was more or less what she would have given without the ring's influence.

"Sure brother dear. Perhaps I can find out what you got up to last night, as if I can't guess!" They were deep in conversation when I came back into the room but I resisted asking them what it was all about. From Sarah's thoughts it didn't appear she had been told about Friday nights episode but had discussed wedding dresses.

"Jenny asked me if I could make her wedding gown. Would your mother mind if I did?" Sarah asked.

"Probably but I daresay we can handle it. Mother's buying the dress and has been getting anxious that Jenny hasn't found one she liked that was within mother's budget but let's forget mother for the time being and enjoy a day at Sandswick. We can watch them fishing from the pier and the boats coming in to the dock and they have the finest fish and chips in the whole county at Martha's hut."

We spent two very enjoyable days together. Sunday at the seaside town and Monday, which was her day off, by going to Braithwick market where Jenny bought a load of material for dressmaking. "Good job we came by car," she laughed, "I would have only been able to carry half of this stuff if I'd gone by bus."

"And you'd only have spent half the money."

"But I saved on bus fares and had a strong lad to carry things for me."

We arrived at my home about five and I kept hold of Sarah's hand as we walked in. Mother was the only one home and she was bustling about in the kitchen making the meal so there was no avoiding her. She eyed me warily and then looked at Sarah with some disdain. <<"How did he make me tell all those things? Will he make me do it again? In front of her?">> Despite her reservations as to my ability mother still tried to make a snide remark about Sarah. "Was it necessary to bring that shop girl here Derek?"

Before I could reply Sarah answered. "Miriam, I am not my father. I am his daughter. Just because he chucked you doesn't mean you have to take it out on me and in any case it all happened twenty-seven years ago and I'm sure you've done worse things since." For a few moments there was complete silence in the room. Mother's thoughts came through. <<"Did he tell her all about the bridge club or perhaps her father told her of some of the things I did with him after marrying Ray.>> I only told Sarah the barest details of what happened on Friday. Sarah went on, "I came here because Derek invited me to and I came here to talk with Jenny about the design for her wedding dress that I am going to make." For once mother was at a loss for words. Jenny hadn't told her about ordering her dress from Sarah. "Miriam, Derek and I have been together for less than a week but we seem to get on well together. We enjoy each other's company. I like him a lot and I think he likes me too but after one failed marriage I am not going to rush into another one. I'm sure Derek wouldn't wish that either and I'll try and make damned sure I find a person who I can live with for the rest of my life before committing myself again. When we've known each other for six months or a year or more, then we can think about marriage. Certainly I am not going to try and get pregnant and trap him."

Mother went bright red and fled upstairs. When I explained to Sarah about my being conceived before mum and dad married, she was most upset at her unwitting faux pas but once again took charge and went upstairs and into mother's room. They were there for some little time before both came down together and mother put the kettle on. There seemed to be a sort of truce between them. "Would you all like to stay for dinner?" mother asked, "Jenny and father will be in shortly." <<"Dyslexia, she has dyslexia, word blindness,">> came from mother's mind and suddenly I also knew why Sarah had dropped out of school. Dyslexia made reading difficult but would not affect her natural intelligence or her practical ability.

It was this afternoon before I could scan a few more pages of the book. Sarah was at work, the builders had started to move into Jean's and mother was shopping so I had the house to myself.

*****

The New Maid

The accounts I write here give only tiny vignettes of events in my life that the ring helped to bring about. It was largely as a result of my being able to ascertain the thoughts of others that I became very successful in business and in turn became moderately wealthy. I resolved therefore to sell the inn and purchase a house more suited to my status in better area than the docklands. Eventually I found a modest six-bedroom house known as 'Beaumont House' in Poplar a little apart from the village with stables at the rear for my horse. It was still near enough to the West India Docks where I conducted much of my business that I could ride there in less than an hour. A regular stagecoach passed through the village that I could take should the weather be inclement so it was quite ideally suited to me.

The new owner of the inn seemed a friendly enough man and all the younger girls agreed to stay. They could earn far more by selling their bodies than they could in service to me. Only Naomi, the cook, decided she would prefer a quieter life in Poplar. Naomi was a rotund, jovial woman in her late forties and an excellent cook. At the inn I rarely spent the nights with her but in the quietness at 'Beaumont House' we did so more frequently. In many ways I enjoyed having Naomi's voluptuous thighs around me but I also yearned for a younger and leaner girl's body. "You need to look for a wife," Naomi told me candidly after I had fucked her one night and we lay resting. "A wife or a mistress, a girl that could help with the housework during the day and keep you warm and see to your needs at night." I knew she was right in that we did need more domestic help especially if I entertained guests. I'd made-do with a couple of girls from the village on the two occasions when I had visitors but Naomi really needed a more permanent assistant. However I needed to be careful that any girl I hired and also took to my bed, wasn't after my money but again the ring came to me aid.

Elizabeth Canwell was one such girl. We first hired her as a temporary maid for an evening when I had two friends to dinner. She was attractive and agreeable and at some point in the evening, asked Naomi if there might be the chance of a position with me. I agreed to interview her the following weekend. She arrived wearing a low-cut dress and a pleasant smile and several times tried to flirt with me. Before the interview proper though, I asked Naomi to show the girl around the house and explain her duties and when they returned to the parlour I poured each of us a glass of wine. While Elizabeth told of her experience in service I was more interested in Naomi's thoughts. <<"Little hussy. Trying to get into his breeches. She'll try and twist him round her finger and act like the mistress of the house. She'll want to lord it over me in no time at all. Hope he doesn't take her on.">> Elizabeth's own thoughts confirmed much of this and <<"I'll not need to tell him that I got the push from the squire's house for not working hard enough or that the mistress found me in bed with her son. He ain't much to look at but perhaps if I get old Josh here in bed, I can get myself a better position. Seems as if he has enough money to employ more servants and I could have my own maid. Fat old Naomi shouldn't be a problem. He can't fancy her.">>

I agreed to take her on a week's trial. "At the end of the week it will be up to Naomi whether or not we employ you permanently," I told her.

"Thank you sir," she replied. <<"After I've bedded him a couple of times, Naomi's opinion won't count for anything.">> I knew it would! She'd been with me a long while and I valued her down to earth opinion.

On the second night, Elizabeth came to my room and asked if there was anything else that I required. She was a passable fuck but I'd had better from the maids in the inn. I pretended to be delighted with her and her thoughts told me that she believed she was almost mistress of the house already. She played very coy for a couple of days and then came to my bed again where we had an enjoyable fuck but without being it anything special. I had already spoken quietly to Naomi and learned that Elizabeth was quite a lazy girl and had frequently to be chided into doing the work. I wondered if this would give me just cause to chastise her but decided against it for the short period she was with us. When I called the pair together on the last day of the trial week, I asked Naomi if we should employ Elizabeth. The answer was, as I expected, a vehement no, and she gave a full list of reasons why. Elizabeth tried to argue with us but I concurred with Naomi much to the vexation of Elizabeth.

It was only a few days later that I got my maid and the woman who became my mistress. It happened in a most unusual way.

Whilst conducting dealings down at the dockside close by the inn I heard a bit of a commotion but didn't think too much of it at the time. There is always something going on there. Shortly afterwards I saw a lighterman and his boy frantically sculling their small boat to someone floundering in the water. They got there just in time. The person turned out to be a woman and from what I could hear she didn't want to be rescued. She'd jumped from the bridge into the swirling ebb tide. However, the lightermen unceremoniously rolled her into their boat. When they brought her to the quay and helped her up the steps and into the inn, I gave them a shilling for their trouble for I could see the bedraggled woman, not much more than a girl really, was not too unpleasant in her features. The new innkeeper hustled her into the kitchen and Fanny undressed her and then found some dry clothes she could wear. The girl's thoughts were such a jumble of contradictions, vacillating between wanting to be warm and wanting to be left to die in peace that I could determine little about her. Eventually the warmth won but she refused to say anything about herself or the wicked looking and festering birch marks we'd seen across her buttocks or the bruises on her face and breasts. Charles Frederick, the new innkeeper didn't think her a suitable maid for the inn so I decided I would keep the wench. At the time I still had business to conclude at the dock but I waited until the next coach was due and, knowing the driver, paid him to put her off at my house. "When you get there," I told her, "Knock on the back door and when Naomi my housekeeper comes say, 'Master Joshua says to look after me until he gets home.'" In fact the coachman pulled his team up outside my house and blew his horn until Naomi came out and he delivered the girl and the message. She was slumped in the coach and had to be half carried into the house.

When I arrived home late in the afternoon, Naomi and the girl were sitting in the kitchen and the girl had a soft cushion on her chair. She looked much more presentable and had more colour in her cheeks than earlier. I guessed Naomi had spent some time cleaning and feeding her. "This is Beatrice Carter sir," Naomi informed me, "She answers to Beatie but that's all she's told me. In any case I thought it best to leave any questioning till you came home sir and perhaps after we've had our dinner. It's all ready. Shall I serve it here or in the dining room?" Unless we had guests I always ate in the kitchen with Naomi. It was warmer and she would keep a lively conversation even if twas on trivial subjects. That evening she prattled on about Beatie's arrival, what she had done for her and how she'd cleaned and tried to treat the birch marks on her arse. Through it all Beatie remained silent apart from the obligatory please and thank-you's and hardly looked up from her plate. She ate well, seemingly not having eaten for some time. While Naomi was attending to the pudding course, I tried to concentrate on Beatie's thoughts. They were clearer now but still a jumble. <<"Will I be safe here? What will he want as payment for what he has done? I have no money, none at all. They took it all. They'll tell everyone that I am a thief.">> I saw a tear run down her face but she didn't wipe it and didn't look up. <<"It was Ruth who stole that broach. Ruth put it in my apron. Will he want to take me to his bed? Will he beat me if I don't? I suppose I will have to let him like I had to the masters. Will he keep me here? Make me work? I wouldn't mind that. Naomi seems nice. Like Auntie Mabel. Oh my arse still hurts. Rogers really laid that birch on hard and I am innocent. And then what they did after…">> Her reminiscences were interrupted by the arrival of the pudding.

At the end of the meal I suggested Beatie might help with clearing the table and cleaning the dishes which she did without complaint although both Naomi and I could see she was stiff and very tired, probably a reaction to her ordeal. She winced as she stood and put some weight on her feet and limped to the sink. I put a few more logs on the fire in the parlour and waited for the two women to finish cleaning up and to join me. Beatie's thoughts still showed concern for what might happen to her and Naomi's kept wandering to how the girl came to be in the river but she knew better than to ask.

Soon we were settled with Naomi next to me at one side of the fireplace and Beatie across from us so I could look her directly in the face. Deciding to take the bull by the horns I spoke directly. "Beatie, I expect you are wondering what is going to happen to you here. Whether I will let you stay; whether I will wish to take you to my bed; whether I will thrash you and perhaps you are worried about other things too, things that caused you to try and drown yourself." I could tell this was the case although I only received a slight nod by way of acknowledgement. I went on, "I can answer some of those things. Yes, you can stay here, if you wish, at least for the time being, unless you have done something seriously wrong and the constables come for you." She shook her head. "I have been looking for a maid to assist Naomi and she seems to have taken you under her wing already. You will get your board and lodging and a maid's dress to wear and a small wage. Yes, I will wish to take you to my bed. You are an attractive young wench and I am a man who is used to having a woman in bed with him. I will certainly look forward to feeling you alongside me and getting my prick into your cunnie." She blushed at my forthright statement but again only gave a slight nod of her head to affirm she understood. "As to whether you will be thrashed. It is very unlikely you will receive a birching such as you've had recently. I can only recall one girl in my employ having a severe thrashing and she definitely stole a gold watch. That is not to say you won't be punished. Even Naomi gets he arse tanned sometimes." In truth it had been a goodly number of months since I'd bared her bum for the strap but I felt I might need to chastise this woman more for pleasure than punishment. "Now that is as straight and honest answer as I can give you as to your future here. I trust that in turn you will give us a straight and honest account of the circumstances that led to your jumping off the bridge."

Beatrice just hung her head and didn't speak but tears drifted down her face. "You'll have to use your powers sir," Naomi commented. She'd seen me do my supposedly mesmerism trick on a number of occasions. I hadn't wished to use the ring but that now seemed unavoidable. Theatrically I pulled my chair close to Beatie's and looked straight into her eyes. She turned her head but I turned it back again with my hands.

"Look at me Beatrice," I ordered and somewhat reluctantly she obeyed. "Beatrice, I need to know about you and what you have been up to. I need to know in order that I might help you and in order to protect myself from any wrongs you may have done. In a moment when I ask, you will tell me all the details of your life, going back as far as is necessary and in particular I wish to know of the events that led to your jumping from the bridge. You will tell me truthfully even if you are ashamed of the things you have done." I paused. <<"I can't tell him everything. I can miss out some of the things I had to do.">> She closed her eyes but opened them when I ordered. Finally I asked, "Where do you come from? Where have you been working? And what made you decide to take you own life?" Her face had that faraway look that I knew so well when a person was under the ring's influence. "Take your time Beatrice. There is no hurry. The evening is young and your story will help to pass the time."

Beatrice's story

"My father is a farrier who works in the City of Westminster and he services the horses of many of the gentry there. I was brought up in a cottage that adjoined the forge. Father is a big strong man and scrupulously honest but he treats and dominates all women like he does the metal under his hammer. Mother and I obey him completely otherwise we get beaten. Nearly always he uses his hand, only once did I see him use a leather belt on mother and she couldn't walk properly for a week, but his big hand and an arm that is used to wielding a hammer is almost as bad. Our cottage is small, made smaller by the way the forge has taken over the main room so we lived in the kitchen and slept in one room. I had a small bed in one corner and they have a larger one in the other. From an early age I saw him fuck my mother most nights, especially in the summer when it was still light and they did it on top of the bed because of the heat. It was only later when I was in service that I found out that some of the things they did were not considered normal by many people. He frequently used all three of mother's openings. However, never once did he touch me in that way even though he often saw me naked, and I was completely without clothes when he spanked me. Mother was too." Tears streamed down Beatie's face as she visualised both her mother and her being spanked over her father's knee. Through her mental imagery, I could see how badly bruised and beaten was her mothers arse and from the pain she was experiencing, I guessed that Beatie's was in a similar state.

"One morning when I was thirteen, father came into the kitchen and hauled me into the forge and stood me in front of a well dressed man. 'Here she is Sir, good lass, hard working and honest if you don't mind my saying so of my own daughter.' The man looked me over for a minute or so before say, 'She looks a little thin Carter, but I'll give her a try. Send her to the Masquets in Walthamstow tomorrow.' I was horrified partly because I had no idea where Walthamstow was but I guessed it was a long way and I would be leaving the safety of my home. 'That was Sir Cecil Coburn,' my father informed me and you are going into service in his house.' He managed to get me a ride on a cart for about eight miles but I still had to walk a dozen miles or more to the house. It was a splendid place and for the first year I worked there without any problems. I was a tall, skinny girl then with no breasts. I had a few hidings but they were less serious than I had at home and they were mainly because I didn't always understand the instructions I was given and was too shy to ask. The trouble started when I was fifteen and my breasts began to develop and I began to fill out. I knew the master's sons often took the maids to bed and occasionally Sir Cecil did as well when his wife was away. Some of the maids looked forward to it as it usually meant an extra coin or two in their pocket. At that time the eldest son, Richard, came back from a trip abroad and he took a maid to bed every night and in the morning they would tell of what he'd done to them. They were all things my father did with mother like taking her in the back hole but which some of the girls thought disgusting and painful."

My prick was beginning to rise as I could see the images of some of the maids, one showing off her red bottom hole. Beatie didn't seem to notice but continued in a flat tone of voice.

"He'd been back about a month when one evening I almost bumped into him in a passageway. 'Where has a pretty thing like you been hiding then?' he asked and then pulled me to him and kissed me. I pushed him away but he quickly seized me again and said, 'You will come and warm my bed tonight.' When I pleaded that I wasn't one of the maids that did that he dragged me to the butler and ordered him to give me a dozen with the strap for my insolence. I suppose it was part of my father's training that I just accepted it but I didn't go to his room later. I thought the punishment had absolved me from it. Hardly had I got to my bed when two footmen came in. "Sorry Beatie,' one of them said, 'We've to take you to Master Richard.' So they did. I only had my nightshirt on and Master Richard had that off as soon as I was in the room. I was sobbing and pleading with him but he told me to shut up or he would send me to the butler again to get my front strapped. He ravished me hard and tore away my maidenhead while I lay there passively. He swore at me for being a lousy fuck and threatened me with the strap again if I didn't improve. Later in the night he fucked me again and despite the pain I tried to respond but I know he was disgusted with my performance. The chambermaid wasn't pleased either because she'd had to change the sheets and wash my blood off them. A week later he had me again and this time I wasn't as sore and I really did try to please him but still he wasn't thrilled with my efforts."

From her recital I began to wonder if she would be any good in my bed but she went on, "He must have talked about me to his two brothers, James the middle son and Herbert the youngest who was twenty. James had me quite a few times and introduced me to having it in my bottom and mouth. If he rated my service at all, it would have been passable. I didn't mind warming his bed but I didn't really enjoy his company. There seemed to be a pecking order between the brothers that was related to their age. Richard had first choice of the maids but I was very rarely chosen, James had the next pick and for a while I seemed to be his favourite mainly because he wanted to initiate me into having it in various ways and positions. Like my father, he liked variety. It was several months after Richard had taken my virginity that Herbert asked me to warm his bed. Up to then he'd mostly bedded Janet but she became pregnant and disappeared mysteriously from the house. It was soon after that he asked me to take her place. He had me every night for the first week and I grew to like him and at last began to enjoy being fucked by a man. He was more gentle and considerate than the others were and I did my very best to please him. In some ways he took after James because he liked it in a variety of places and ways and I encouraged him. You may wonder that I too did not become pregnant but cook made every girl drink a mug of bitter liquid each morning at breakfast. It was a concoction of herbs to her secret recipe, which usually seemed to work. Why it didn't for my predecessor Janet, I don't know."

Most cooks knew these 'secret' recipes. Naomi did and made the girls at the inn drink a similar liquid each day. Now she deemed herself too old to become with child but I resolved she should start making the drink for Beatie.

"I suppose I must have started to fall in love with Herbert although I knew nothing would come of it especially when he started to court Lady Alice Billington but he still wanted me in his bed most nights. Infrequently another young girl, Ruth, went to his room and it was she that was the cause of my ills. She tried to win Herbert's heart but I was too deeply entrenched and I believed that even when he wed Lady Alice I would be a maid in their house and would service him when required. Ruth though sort out the means to oust me. Somehow she managed to steal a broach from Lady Coburn and secrete it in my apron. Cook discovered it and I was accused of the theft. No matter how hard I pleaded my innocence, no one seemed to believe me, except perhaps Sir Cecil himself and Herbert. The majority agreed I was guilty and should be punished and sent to prison. Sir Cecil stepped in and said they would deal with the matter at the house and it would not go further. He sentenced me to twenty strokes of the birch. I knew it was useless to plead and just let them tie me down naked to the frame they used for the punishments and the butler laid them on real hard. He said he hated thieves. Each time I passed out so they revived me and carried on. My arse was a bloodied mess by the time he had finished but I wasn't released although my wounds were cleaned and dried. That was only to allow Richard and James to fuck me, and James insisted on using my bottom hole, which caused me so much pain that I passed out again. After that I was given a cheap, coarse dress and told to leave and not return. Sir Cecil said he would inform my father of my actions so I knew I daren't go back there. Herbert met me near the gate and gave me a shilling's worth of copper coins so as not to arouse suspicion by my having a silver shilling. He said he didn't believe I stole the broach but there was nothing he could do. I really didn't know what to do or where to go. I'd been unjustly and terribly thrashed and then raped. I wanted to die. I almost did throw myself under a wagon but hadn't the courage to do it."

"I'm glad she didn't, poor thing," whispered Naomi.

That was three days ago. I have no idea where I went and I could only walk with the greatest difficulty so I made slow progress. Without knowing why I headed towards the midday sun. Last night I spent sheltering in a doorway where two dirty old men came upon me and hit me until I gave them the coins I had. It was then that I decided life was no longer worth living and I would find a means to end it. In the morning I came to the river and knowing I could not swim decided to throw myself in. I think you know the rest."

I nodded, appalled at her story. "Do you believe that I did not take the broach?" she asked with a voice filled with emotion now that she had answered my question.

"I certainly do. You cannot lie when I look into your eyes and ask a question," I stated forcibly. Naomi agreed.

I did take her to my bed that night and we fucked gently for her arse was still inflamed and sore. After that she slept with me most nights for thirty-three years although I never married her.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 7. Sarah's married life

1st August 2004

"It's a lovely house Derek. Too good for a bachelor," Sarah giggled, "It's big enough for a whole family."

"Perhaps you should offer to take my bachelorhood away from me and start filling the place with tiny feet," I suggested.

"And lose my own freedom?" she teased.

I'd only known her for three weeks but already we were an 'item'. Even mother was beginning to accept her as part of the family especially when she saw the nearly finished wedding dress Sarah was making for Jenny. "You are very clever with your hands," Mother grudgingly admitted.

The house was indeed nice if a little large for one person. Dr. John Salmon, my predecessor, had taken a lucrative four-year contract to work in the USA with an optional extension and his term of employment was brought forward by a month. He suggested that I might like to move in straightaway so I would be well installed by the time my work at the University started. The ring helped a great deal and saved me a lot of money when it came to negotiating the buying of the house and the furniture that was in it. Because of the short time span, John would either have to pay for the furniture to be moved and stored for the duration of his employment abroad or sell it off cheaply to a house clearance firm. The other alternative was to sell it to me just as cheaply. Of course he tried to put a higher price on it but when I pointed out the options I'd read from his mind, he reduced the price provided I paid cash. None of the stuff was particularly valuable or antique but to have it there ready to use was a big bonus. Only problem was that I didn't have the cash and wouldn't have until my first few pay cheques came in. Mother wasn't too keen on loaning me the money but Jean had no qualms on that score and I promised to pay her back at so much a month. I had previously arranged to take over the mortgage on the house from mid-September so basically I had a month's free rent.

It didn't take me long to move in. My room at home was pretty well packed with my belongings but almost everything was in that one room. Now I was able to spread things around a four-bedroomed house. At least that's how the estate agent would have described it but one of the bedrooms was very small so I commandeered it for my computer stuff. The main bedroom had a king-size bed while one of the others had a double. The third bedroom lay more or less empty; John had never needed it. Right from the beginning I visualised it would make a good sewing room for Sarah even though she hadn't agreed to move in with me and I knew it might be some time before she did. Always at the back of her mind were the thoughts of what happened to her previous marriage.

"I thought we might have a bed warming party tonight,"

"We might get lost in that huge bed and have difficulty in finding one another," Sarah laughed.

We did indeed christen the bed but somehow I felt that I wasn't stimulating her as much as I had earlier. It was most enjoyable but something seemed to be missing. Her mind didn't touch on it at the time but later as we lay cradled against each other pretending to sleep I tuned into her thoughts. I was shocked by what I saw and heard. After a little while she started to cry. I knew why and wondered if it would be better if she talked about it openly. Some of it I knew was common knowledge but as the events happened while I was away, I'd only heard vague rumours and at that time Sarah was only a girl I knew slightly from school.

"A penny for them," I said and gave her a cuddle.

"You don't want to know."

"You thinking of your ex?" I asked turning her head to face me. In the dim light that filtered through the thin curtains from the street lamp I knew she could see me looking fixedly at her. "Are you wondering if I would be like him? Would you like to get it all off your chest so we don't have it as a hidden secret between us?" Three direct questions; questions that would either make or break our relationship. Questions she would be forced to answer and answer with all honesty.

Hesitantly she started. "At first I wondered if you would ever have the courage to spank me like Terry did? Not like he did when he was angry and used his belt or the bamboo plant cane but a hand spanking to get me aroused. I know it makes me sore but it also gets me warm and horny. Like the first time Terry did it. We were in his room, sitting on his bed and no one else in the house. I expected to be fucked but decided to appear reluctant. Terry didn't stand for any of that nonsense did he? No, before I knew what was happening he'd pulled me over his lap and had my arse bared. God did he seem to hit hard. I squealed and yelled but it didn't make any difference. He made my bum really sore and then I had to kneel on the bed while he fucked me from behind. Doggie fashion he called it. That made me really go and I came a couple of times before he did. Afterwards he rubbed some cream in and that was nice too. He never used to do that after we were married and he didn't have to be nice to me to gain a few favours. Then he wanted to hurt me more. Wanted me helpless so he could hit harder and be cruel and show off in front of his friends. Like the day he invited Pete Sayer round for a meal and I forgot to turn the heat down under the vegetables and they boiled dry and burned and the horrible smell went all through the house. He was real angry over that when they came in from the pub. Called me a useless slut and bent me over the back of the armchair and tied my wrists to the front legs. I didn't believe he would do this in front of Pete but he did. The sod. Took my skirt and knickers off and laid into me with the belt. 'That's how to treat a useless woman who can't even cook a simple dinner,' he growled at Pete. Then he gagged me to stop me screaming too loud but he kept swinging that belt until I could hardly stand the pain any more. I should have left him after that. I was a fool not to realise it would get worse. He must have thought I would pass out so he stopped and took his prick out and fucked me in the arse right in front of Pete. Then the sod told Pete to fuck my arse, which of course he did. The pain was sheer hell. Worse, I was made to suck them afterwards and then make another meal. Again he complained and then fucked me on the hearthrug and allowed Pete to do the same. Bastard pretended to be sorry the next day and blamed having too much beer but he'd only had a couple of cans. He was nice again for a while."

I gave her a cuddle and waited while she gathered her thoughts again and went on.

"God knows how many times he used that belt on me for trivial things although not as bad as that time. I didn't mind a hand spanking but the belt was always a punishment and rarely did I get aroused from it. Gradually the beltings became more frequent, so much so, that he left the rope ties in place on the chair all the time, and he pointed them out to visitors. I probably would still be suffering it had he not thrashed me with that sodden cane in front of his mates. And that time I hadn't even done anything wrong. He just wanted to show off. Wanted his mates to know what a macho man he was and how he could do anything he wanted with me. The four had been drinking in the lounge and I'd just finished the washing-up. 'Get your arse in here woman,' he yelled. I only went just inside the door but he pulled me to the middle of the room and shouted for me to strip off. 'I want my mates to see what sort of a woman you are.' 'No!' I yelled but he held me and between them they stripped me naked. 'I won't stand for this sort of disobedience in front of my friends,' he yelled and once more I found myself bound over the back of the chair. He snatched the cane I was using as a support for a tall houseplant, one of those rubber trees that can grow to the ceiling. It was about four feet long and quite thick. With it he gave my arse a vicious stripe. I screamed but they laughed and it seemed to incite him further. Later at the hospital they counted nineteen welts across my bottom. Some were bleeding profusely from where the cane had split and nipped and pulled the flesh. All four of them fucked me, three in the cunt and one in the arse. I passed out for a short while but that didn't make any difference. I yelled when I came to but they carried on drinking and left me there. Finally all but one fell asleep and I pleaded with him that it was time to untie me and fortunately he did. When the coast was clear I phoned the police and ambulance and they took the men away and me to the hospital. Terry only got probation and community service but was ordered not to attempt to go near me again. The council found me the flat I have." <<"Oh God, why did I tell him all that? He'll hate me now. He won't want a whore like me. I'd better go quickly and forget these past few weeks.">>

As soon as she started to get out of bed I grabbed her and pulled her back and held her tight while she sobbed her heart out. I allowed her to cry herself out until the wretched sobs turned to sniffles. "Sarah," I said quietly, "I love you. Thank you for revealing your past in such honesty. It must have been a terrible time for you but it will not make any difference to us. Yes, I will spank you if you wish and in fact I may enjoy doing it but I don't think I could really hurt any woman and certainly not you. Please don't think of running away. I need you and I love you and I think you love me too. Your past is past, let us go forward to a new life together. In slow steps if you like, but let's do it together." I thought I sounded like our vicar but they were the best words I could think of at the time. I kissed her twice and the second one was returned with some fervour. I sincerely hoped that my gamble of making her talk had worked but I couldn't be certain that it hadn't made the situation worse. I was angry with Terry for what he had done to Sarah, both physically and mentally but I also knew that had he been a nicer person, I would not have her with me now. I remembered seeing the physical scars on her bottom one night when we'd bathed together and I'd dried her back. They were only visible when the light was right and I hadn't commented on them at the time and her mind must have forgotten them.

She was quiet and reserved next morning at Sunday breakfast and I from her thoughts I knew she was thinking of her past life. Thoughts of what she had revealed last night and most of all she was wondering how I made her tell and if it would make any difference to our relationship. <<"Did he really mean it when he said he loved me? It sounded sincere last night but what about now or in a week's time when he's thought about it more? Will he still want someone who allowed herself to be fucked by her husband's mates? Someone who's admitted to sucking shitty pricks? Someone who's done really dirty things?">> Without trying to intrude into her personal musings I tried to make it clear that I did love her and would continue to do so but her mind was still full of doubts.

"I'd better spend the rest of the weekend working on your sister's dress," she announced suddenly. I knew she had a little finishing off to do but earlier she'd said it would only take an hour or two. The wedding was the following week so there was some urgency to finish the dress but it seemed as if she was using this as an excuse to put a little distance between us. She needed time alone but I realised too much could lead to a rift. I had to think of a way of getting her to come back for the night. So we could cuddle and make up in bed.

"We christened the bed last night, tonight I'm christening the kitchen. I'll take you home now and pick you up at five ready for the gourmet meal I will have prepared." I hoped this might tempt her even if it was only to ridicule me a little.

"You can't cook." Her face brightened, knowing my culinary skills so far had been limited to microwaving ready-pack meals and opening tins.

"Mother gave me a couple of cookery books and it shouldn't be any more difficult than following techniques in my lab books."

"As long as you don't get the two muddled!" she smiled and I thought a little of the cloud over had lifted.

"I know I have to peel the eggs before I use them as well!" Again that brought a smile to her face.

When it came to doing it, the instructions were fairly straightforward although perhaps the term gourmet meal might have been an exaggeration. I did have to phone Jenny once to clarify a couple of terms. "How about inviting Ralph and me to this dinner party Derek?" Jenny suggested half jokingly, "I could try on the dress there as well and I would get to see your new place now you've more or less settled in. It's no more difficult to cook for four than two."

"But can the hospital cope with four cases of food poisoning at once?" I quipped back, then wondered how she would react to a question like that.

"They can always call on more staff in an emergency." She laughed but her voice sounded a little strange.

In fact the arrangement worked out for the best. Having others at the house brought Sarah's good spirits back and the meal turned out quite well even if the centre of the pudding did sink a bit. Ralph brought a bottle of wine and they stayed until mid evening when they decided they ought to get some more done on their own place. Jenny was thrilled with the dress and I thought it was fantastic and rightly guessed Sarah had put more work into it than the price warranted.

Things went a little flat after they left and Sarah became moody again. Her mind would not let her believe that it didn't matter to me what she had done in the past. <<"He's just saying the words I want to hear. I can't really believe him. I'm sure that sooner or later he will drop me as soon as he finds someone else. One of those clever students from the Uni. One that wants to get higher marks than she deserves…">> I saw a tear run down her cheek and went to give her a hug but she reacted angrily and pushed me away, more forcibly than I expected and indeed, more forcibly than she intended. I fell back into the dining table and upset the vase of flowers. I righted the vase and she mopped up the water. "I'm sorry Derek, I didn't mean to push you so hard," she apologised.

"You will be. I'll teach you to be a bad tempered bitch," I growled in my best mock severe voice."

A slight smile came to her face. "You'll have to catch me first." There followed a chase around the furniture where I didn't really try overly hard to get hold of her and she only half-heartedly tried to escape. Finally I got my arms around her waist and dragged her squealing to the settee.

"Now you're going to get it," I joked. Although she squirmed and struggled I finally released the button on her trousers and managed to lower them to her knees. Even though we were both chuckling and threatening each other with the direst punishments, she didn't give in and I had to use all my strength the get her over my lap and smack her arse. I laid on half a dozen 'friendly' slaps without putting too much power behind them. I didn't want to hurt her. <<"Don't be a wimp. Do it properly.">> Picking up on her silent instructions I hit harder and reddened her bum with a few good swats and then pulled her knickers down and began spanking her again. I continued to spank until she started to cry although I felt mean doing so. <<"That's enough. Fuck me now!">>

"Stop, stop Derek. You've punished me enough. I'm sorry I knocked the vase over. I'm sorry I was so grumpy." She started pleading out loud but didn't mention she wanted to be fucked.

"No you haven't. I haven't done with you yet my girl," I answered as crossly as I could but it was difficult to keep the grin out of my voice. She started to plead again when I picked her up and put her over the back of the settee. She thought I was going to continue spanking her and perhaps belt her like Terry had but instead I pushed my prick into her cunt and began to fuck her. <<"I wonder if he'll try my arsehole?">> I'd never done that to a girl but with my prick now slimy with all her juices and my pre-cum, I decided to try. She was no stranger to having it that way. I heard her gasp when I pushed my prick against her hole but she didn't protest. Then she seemed to relax and I was able to slowly insert it.

"Take it easy. It's been a long while since I've had it up there," she pleaded. I did. It was a totally new sensation for me but one that I found quite enjoyable. It wasn't long before I came and then had to tongue her to a climax.

We showered and watched TV for a while before cuddling up in bed. Spanking her had eased the tension between us so it looked as if my gamble had paid off after all.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 8. Annabelle

11th August 2004

For the next few days mother was in a pre-wedding panic and being free, I was sent on innumerable errands. Fortunately it all came together on the day and the ceremony and reception all went without any serious hitches. Jenny's dress would not have disgraced a film star and evoked so many favourable comments that Sarah was almost embarrassed by them. Sarah too looked lovely in an outfit she'd made and it made me feel very proud just to stand alongside her. Several people suggested that she become a full time dressmaker but she is reluctant to give up a job with a regular income and one where she meets with a constant flow of people for the uncertainty of working for herself and largely by herself. I thought she might think more seriously about it if she came to live with me and would not have any rent to pay. She stayed with me again at the weekend but went back to her own place on Monday because it is within easy walking distance of the bakery. What with the chaos of the wedding together with arranging my stuff in the new house, it was the Tuesday evening after the wedding before I was able to get my computer up and running and scan in some more pages of the book. Finally I had the next episode ready to read.

The Rape of Annabelle

Beatie and I had lived in the house effectively as man and wife for about three months. The welts across her arse had healed nicely but the scars would always show. Twice in that time when I had invited guests she acted as mistress of the house. I dressed her in nice clothes and she ate at the table with us. For the rest of the time, she and Naomi were nominally servants although it was Beatie who always slept in my bed but Naomi joined us occasionally. The pair got on well together and Naomi tended to look on Beatie as her daughter and would let me know in no uncertain terms if she thought I wasn't treating her properly. On the whole we lived as a family. I also now employed an elderly gardener who kept our grounds reasonably tidy.

My business dealings seemed to go from one success to another and I became tolerably rich and to enhance my place in society I sort to curry favour with the local landowners and gentry. Several times I visited Squire Trelawny and at one of these meetings I was introduced to Sidney Blakeley a farmer who owned a large estate to the east of us. The area immediately around his fine house was given over to parkland but the majority of his estate was set aside for horticulture, growing a wide variety of fruit and vegetables. He of course, didn't do any of the work but necessarily employed a sizeable workforce of men and boys. Some of the produce was shipped to various parts of the country and it must have been from the docks that stories of my power to elicit the truth from people eventually found their way to him. I rarely used the power these days and was always very careful about asking a direct question.

It was with some surprise that one afternoon he rode to my home. Beatie answered the door and ushered him into the parlour and immediately I entered I could tell he was angry and in a troubled state and that it concerned his daughter. He shook hands but declined my offer of refreshment on the grounds that he needed to get back urgently and came directly to the point of his visit. "Joshua, I understand from one of my men that you have the power of mesmerism and can draw forth the truth from an individual whether they want to admit it or not. Is that true?"

I decided to be a little circumspect about this especially as his mind told me that the reason for this audience was the rape of his daughter and the truth might not be what he really wanted to hear. "I have been able to use that power in some circumstances sir," I answered. "Pray from whom do wish me to try and draw the truth?" He went on to tell me how on the previous day his daughter Annabelle had been accosted on her way to the stables and had been beaten with her own riding crop and raped by at least two men. She had not seen them because they had thrown a sack over her head as soon as she'd entered the stable door so she never had a sight of them. "So it is likely to be some fellows in your employ," I stated.

"Most likely," he agreed, "And I've been able to reduce those who could have the chance to have done this evil thing to about a dozen men and boys. There are three others but they are so old it is very unlikely to be them. Can you use your powers on them?"

Sensing a juicy story I thought for a moment, "Sir, I feel it would be more profitable if I were to talk with your daughter first. I would wish to talk with her alone or, for propriety's sake, with Beatrice as a chaperone. Beatrice has been through a similar sort of situation and may well be able to provide some measure of comfort for the girl. From what you have said she has only given you the barest of details, probably because of the embarrassment of telling her father. She may be less averse to telling a stranger, one who is not part of her household especially as she has no mother she can confide in. When I have heard her story, we may well be able to reduce the number of suspects and get to the bottom of the matter before my power fades." Mr. Blakeley demurred for a while but in the end he reluctantly agreed.

"I will be there in little more than an hour," I told him, "Please let your daughter know we are coming but say nothing of my power. Just inform her that I will be investigating the matter. Please also have the constables in attendance so they may take the men away when I finish." We shook hands and I asked the gardener to harness the pony and trap and told Beatie to dress nicely and be ready to go with me.

Annabelle was not at all pleased to see us and made it very clear when her father left us, that she had no wish to speak on the matter and that she regarded us a fools that should not be interfering in her business. Her thoughts were even less pleasant. <<Stupid peasants. Their pathetic minds can have no idea what it is like for a woman of my breeding to be thrashed unmercifully and then subjected to such gross indecency.">>

"You are probably thinking that we can have no idea of what it is like to be beaten and raped," I started and noted the confusion in her thoughts that I seemed to know what she was thinking. It put her off balance for a moment. "Beatrice, please show Miss Annabelle the result of the thrashing that preceded your rape." Beatie lifted her dress and blushed when she bent and showed Annabelle her bare bottom. The scars still showed very clearly. "Those welts are nearly six months old," I informed the young girl, "I trust yours are not as severe." Annabelle shook her head and a tear ran down one cheek.

"Now miss, I am going to ask you to sit in that nice soft chair and to look at me while I ask you a few questions. Questions which you will have to answer truthfully and fully." Still showing some disdain Annabelle sat on the settee with Beatie alongside her. At first she rejected Beatie's arm around her shoulders but finally accepted it when Beatie hugged her tighter.

"For this to work properly miss, I must ask you to look into my eyes." I went into my usual fake instructions and then went on, "To narrow down the number of men that could have committed this crime I need to know what happened yesterday afternoon." <<"I don't see why I should tell you anything you stupid merchantman.">> I ignored the thought knowing she had no option other than to tell me, "You left the house and walked towards the stables. Exactly what happened when you got there?" Her face took on that blank look that I knew so well and her voice lost its aggressiveness.

I had a picture of her approaching a brown painted stable door, the top half was open and the head of a horse poked out. "I opened the bottom half of the door and patted Thunder's neck and said, "Hello fella, ready to go out?" At that moment I felt a movement behind me and a thick sack was pulled over my head. I was totally blinded. My hands grabbed the sack to pull it off but before I could do so my wrists were pulled back and held together and I felt them being bound with cord. I tried screaming but another cord was pulled around the outside of the sack at the level of my mouth forcing the material inside and muffling my cries. No one spoke but I was dragged along into what I guessed from the steps, was the hay room. From the way they pulled my arms I knew there were at least two of them and one was taller than me. The other was less easy to tell so he may have been my size. One had studded boots that made a loud noise on the stone floor. I did try and work out who they might be but I soon had other things on my mind. They threw me on to the hay and started to unbutton my boots. I kicked but one sat on my knees while the other removed my boots. Worse was to come. They unlaced my riding dress all the way down the front and for a brief time they undid my wrists again so they could free the dress and when they fastened them again it was to one of the rails that keep the hay in place. Their hands felt big and clumsy when it came to undoing the laces of my bodice but they managed it even after the ring one wore caught in the lacy material and tore it. He swore and I thought it sounded like a young man. The cool air on my naked body caused goosebumps but worse were the hands that mauled my breasts and felt the opening between my legs. I heard a chuckle and again thought it was a younger person rather than one of the old men. Suddenly the hands left me. One of the men sat on my thighs. There was a swish and I felt a hellish pain across my breasts. I found out later that they used my riding whip to whip them. They hit them it seemed many times and Kate my maid, counted thirteen welts when she applied ointment later. I never thought a woman of my station in life would ever be expected to withstand such torture. Servants are used to it, not genteel ladies. The man got off my thighs and I was flipped over so I was lying on my tormented breasts causing them even more pain. I tried to scream but still only muffled sounds came out."

Tears coursed freely down her face now and I allowed her a little respite before prodding her to continue.

"The man who'd sat on my thighs now held my ankles wide apart and I guessed he was looking at my cunnie. The dreaded swish came again and a line of pain crossed my buttocks. More and more I was hit until at last I did think I was going to faint. He stopped then and they put a log of wood under my stomach to raise my bottom up. The tall one, the one with the ring, put his finger in my cunnie and poked around then he took it out and I sensed him crawling between my legs and knew at that moment I was going to lose my maidenhead. I felt his pego at me and then he pushed it right it and started to roger me. It hurt, not just from the pain of the rogering but also from the way his loins hit my whipped bottom. Presently he stopped and I guessed he'd loosed his seed. The other man took his place and was a little more gentle, but the pain was still really awful. I hoped it was all over when he finished and they stood up but the respite was only to allow them to pee all over my body. It made my welts sting even more and the stench was disgusting. One of them left the crop lying across my back and I heard them leave. I lay there for hours before I heard Jethro's voice. "Good God, Miss Annabelle, what's happened to you?" I heard him call to someone else telling them to get two of the maids to help and then he untied my wrists and took off my hood. It felt good to breathe properly but the pain was so great I forgot I was still naked in front of Jethro until Kate came and sent him for a blanket and ushered him out. Father was furious and rounded up all the men but none would of course admit to knowing anything about it."

"So one of the men was tall, wore hobnailed boots and wore a ring. Is that correct?" I asked noticing that she was cradling herself more into Beatie now.

"Yes sir."

"And the ring must have been a decorative one rather than a simple band otherwise it wouldn't have caught in your dress. Is that so?"

"Yes sir."

"Have you had any of the men servants punished lately Miss Annabelle?"

"Quite a few. They are all so incompetent but none for the last week or two."

"Thank you Miss Annabelle, I'm sorry to have caused you such distress but I feel certain now we shall know the culprits before the day is out. Perhaps you would like Miss Beatrice to stay with you for a while. She can provide some comfort without you have to retell the story." I rang the bell and a maid appeared and took me to Sidney Blakeley. Not only had he the two constables with him but had asked his friend Judge Davidson to be in attendance too.

Without saying what I had heard from his daughter, I asked him to get the dozen or so suspects into a room together. The barn was deemed the most suitable and soon the motley assortment of men were lined up along one wall. They'd all been questioned before so they knew what it was about and as soon as I entered I could tell from their thoughts who the guilty ones were. Even if I hadn't had that ability, it was fairly obvious that the tall man with the prominent ring was the prime suspect. However, I decided to make a little drama of it. First I walked the whole length of the line and back again. Even those that were innocent felt a little nervous and apprehensive at what I was doing. "I wish to question, that one and that one," I informed Sidney as I pointed to the two guilty men. "Please have their wrists tied so there can be no violence towards me." There was a brief struggle as both men tried to escape but they were already surrounded by ten other young men who were relieved not to be accused of the crime.

The lanky one was swearing at me but also wondering how I so unerringly picked the two of them out. "Your name sir." I didn't wish to pose a direct question at this stage so it would be more of a shock to him when I did.

"Harry Jacobs," he answered sullenly, "And you have no right to have me and him tied up like this. We didn't do nuthin'."

"Oh but you did sir, as well you know." I looked him in the eyes, "You did this terrible deed to Miss Annabelle, didn't you Jacobs?"

In front of everyone he answered, "Yes, sir, I did."

"And did this man help?" I pointed to the shorter man,

"Yes sir, he did."

I suggested that we dismiss the rest of the men and adjourn to an office where the constables and the judge could hear the full story. It was however, with the greatest difficulty that we restrained Mr. Blakeley from grievously harming the two men. A few days later I was asked to interview the men in front of another judge, Judge Martin, and both gave much the same story as Annabelle's. I was curious as to the reasons behind the attack and asked Jacobs, "Why did you attack Miss Annabelle in this way?"

"She's a spiteful bitch," he replied. Even in the dullness of his forced reply we could sense the venom of his words. "She's always flaunting herself and when Fred and me looked and I commented on the size of her tits she had us both birched. That was some months back but we resolved to get our revenge. And we did."

Judge Martin remarked on that when he sentenced them. "It is now society's turn to get their revenge for such a despicable act." He donned the black cap and sentenced them to the gallows. They would not bother Miss Annabelle any more except that she was already pregnant by one of them. In her favour I must add that she did bring up the child like a true son and continued to care for him even after she married and had children by her husband.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 9. Kathleen's ordeal

September 22nd 2004

The university was again in full swing. I'd started my research project, which was a continuation of the work I did for my doctorate. Now though I had a PhD student under me. He was a sporty type so we don't have much in common socially but he is fairly clued up on the work we have to do. Much of it is routine, mundane stuff. Setting up an experiment and seeing and recording the result on a database. Then repeating it twice to check the results only to find they were negative for our purpose. Life as a research worker is not all the glamour of finding new methods and drugs to cure all ailments. Much of it is real boring stuff and for weeks or months little progress seems to be made. Often it is only minor tweaks to the composition of the ingredients that makes all the difference. It is the rare occasions when something positive materialises that makes it all worth while.

Such is the life of a research worker, that I often voluntarily worked well into the evenings at the Uni but that had the advantage that I could use the cafeteria and the facilities of the faculty staff room. The disadvantage of the cafeteria was the noise level. Even without the ring, at busy times the general noise from the students talking make it difficult to think let alone hold a conversation in normal speech. Add to this the jumble of thoughts that came though the ring and the noise level rises to an unacceptable level. I did find that turning the ring so the stone was inside my palm reduced its effectiveness considerably. Even so I always tried to choose the least busy times to get a meal.

I have only been back little more than a week but in that time I seem to have grown adept at eavesdropping on the thoughts of individuals, particularly lone girl students. Mostly they are on prosaic things, lectures, washing, shopping, possible dates and such like, but sometimes they reminisce on the boys they have been with and what they might do together on a future date. I was amazed at the vulgar thoughts coming from what outwardly appeared to be innocent young students. I was also amazed at what they thought of their friends, friends they might well be walking along the path with.

At first I felt guilty at listening in to private thoughts but as the week wore on, I became less interested in them unless they concerned me which wasn't very often. However twice already I've been able to anticipate suggestions from my superior and put them forward before he suggested them. Undoubtedly that added a few Brownie points to my credit sheet. He's a good guy anyway and I've already worked under him for two years. Yesterday evening though, the ring put me in a situation that I doubt I can handle but I am determined to try.

I finished an experiment early, had dinner in the cafeteria and went to the library to look up some references. It was almost empty. One girl I recognised as Kathleen McCogan, a PhD student a year below me who worked in a lab further along the corridor from mine, sat in a corner with her back to me, her head in her hands and an open folder on the desk in front of her. I was aghast at her thoughts.

<<"…that bastard Rowlandson! Just as I seem to be getting somewhere with my project he orders me to change course so I have to start over again. Just like last term. Pervert! He'll make it so that I have to fuck him in order to get a pass mark. And he'll make me do even more obscene things than last time, if that is possible. I'll be lucky to even complete a project. All these years wasted. Just to become his whore. It's not worth going on. Why should I suffer more spankings, more filthy fuck sessions and now he's hinted that I will be hired out to his friends. No, life will not be worth living. Might as well go to my room, take those pills I've pinched from the lab. If they put the rats to sleep they should send me to a long sleep myself…>>"

I listened in to her thoughts for a while longer and debated what to do. I'd heard a vague rumour that Professor Rowlandson blackmailed a student when I was in my second year at university but hadn't heard anything since. Now it seemed as if it was happening again and to a girl I knew and liked although we only ever passed the time or day or spoke on work related subjects.

"Hi Kathleen," I greeted her and sat down at the opposite side of her table. Tears were running down her cheeks and she barely acknowledged me. "Heh, it can't be that bad. Tears like that mean either boyfriend of professor trouble." I waited for a response but it wasn't forthcoming but she did open her eyes enough to look at me. "Which?" I asked knowing she would have to reply.

"Rowlandson. I don't want to talk about it Derek. It will be over soon."

"He's making life difficult for you and demanding sex like he did for that other student I suppose," I commented and she nodded but looked surprised that I even knew anything about it. "You do need to talk about it Kathleen otherwise your life will be wasted."

"I could never tell anyone. It's too disgusting. I'd be too ashamed to speak the words. No one can help now."

"Oh yes they can." I stated more confidently than I felt, "He mustn't be allowed to get away with it. First though we need to find out the facts and that does mean hearing the full story and from what I suspect it doesn't just involve normal sex. Is that true?"

"Yes," she murmured quietly.

I reached out and took one of her hands in mine. "Kathy, this is not the place to discuss this. Come home with me and we can talk it out there. I don't want to come in tomorrow and find them taking you away in a body bag. That would be too horrible to contemplate. You don't have to worry that I will do anything to you except get you to talk, in fact I will ask my girlfriend Sarah to be with us. She's our age and isn't a gossip. Come, bring your book and we'll go." He mind was full of doubts and she still wanted to just end it all. "Kathy, give life another chance. Give me a chance to help." Slowly she nodded her agreement.

Sarah was a little annoyed when I asked her to come and said she was working on a dress but after I was able to explain the circumstances she finally agreed. I could hear her jealousy in her mind when I drove to her house and she saw Kathy in the front seat. This attractive student was in the seat she always occupied. <<"Is she his Uni girlfriend? Is he fucking her midweek and me at weekends?">> However, her attitude softened when she noticed Kathy was shaking and the tears streaming down her face.

When I introduced the two, the tears became sobs. <<"Why can't I find myself a nice caring boyfriend? Why do I have to submit to that dirty sod that's my boss?">> Kathy scolded herself. I could hear Sarah's mind gradually warm to the girl and, although neither of them spoke, Sarah leaned forward and put her hand on Kathy's shoulder.

Neither Sarah nor Kathy had eaten so I microwaved a ready pack meal and brewed some tea. In doing so I left them together in the lounge and heard them hesitantly talking to each other but by the time I returned they were talking more freely. We talked about general things until I cleared the plates away and had Kathy sitting opposite me.

I started my spiel. "Kathy, I think Sarah knows what I am going to try to do. I did it to her once and I know she found it a little traumatic at first but she will probably agree with me when I say it worked out for the best. At least now she doesn't have to hide behind her past." Sarah nodded her agreement. "What I will do is ask you to tell us what has been going on between you and Professor Rowlandson. When I ask that as a direct question, you will have to answer honestly and truthfully. You will be unable to avoid answering. Once we know what has been going on, then we may be able to see a way of preventing it happening again. I must emphasise that once I ask the question you will have no will power to evade answering. No way at all. Sarah will confirm that."

"It's true Kathy. I don't know how he does it and he doesn't seem to know either, but no matter how embarrassing it is, and mine was really embarrassing, you will have to answer truthfully. He gets inside your mind somehow. A kind of hypnotism thing. I kept trying to keep my mouth shut but it kept opening and my tongue told him everything about my past that I wanted to hide from. If you are afraid of us hearing your story, then you'd better leave now." Sarah gave her opinion.

"But think Kathy," I went on, "If I hadn't happened along you'd be in a coma now after swallowing those pills." <<"How did he know about that?">> she wondered, <<"I never told him about the rat pills.">> . "We can only help you Kathy if we know what's been going on, no matter how perverted and disgusting it may seem to you. It may be traumatic for you Kathy but it's not nearly as final a death."

"My previous life was pretty disgusting too Kathy and I told him everything but he took it without condemning me and did all he could to help me get over it." Sarah added her two pennyworth.

I could hear the thoughts going through Kathy's mind as she debated whether or not to allow me to ask questions. Still she half believed she would not be forced to reveal everything and thought she could part answer me. "Okay," she said finally, "What do you want to ask?"

"What hold has Bernie Rowlandson over you? And what does he force you to do when you are together?" I thought of how Joshua had got the juiciest information out of Annabelle but I was by no means certain that similar information from Kathleen wouldn't upset rather than titillate me.

Her face took on that mask-like look and her voice a monotone that I had become to know well. "It started midway through last year. We were studying various common chemicals used in industry and their possible carcinogenic properties. I'd start the experiments and get the results from two and be partway through the third when he would order me to try something different. As you know each experiment has to produce a similar result three times in a row before any data from it can be used or thought conclusive. This happened four times so by the time of my assessment by him, I didn't have any data on which to base my coursework. He said he would have to fail me and I would have to go back two years and start a different course. I railed at him and he suggested we discus it at his house. He's always a smooth talker and while I guessed he might want to have sex with me I agreed. In fact I had little option but to do otherwise."

"You could have complained to the Bursar," I interrupted.

"It wouldn't have done any good. He and Rowlandson are buddies. Anyway I went thinking I could stave off any sexual attempts, but he told me bluntly that if I didn't let him fuck me, he would fail me and I could go home and start again with the new term or go out and look for a job. I cried, I pleaded with him that I had never done it before but that seemed to make him all the more determined. In the end I gave in. He undressed me in his bedroom and played with my tits for some time before he stripped off himself. I was made to look and play with his prick, which was already hard and he seemed proud of its size but I had nothing to compare it with. That first time he took a good deal of trouble to make sure I was aroused and ready for him, even so, his entry was painful and I remember yelling out when he burst my hymen. Later it became a little more pleasurable but I didn't really enjoy it. I just felt disgusted and dirty."

Kathy paused for a few moments. "I hoped I would be allowed to go after that but he brought in some wine and I had a glass and passed out. I've no idea what he put in it. I came to about midnight and found him lying alongside me with the bedclothes covering us. My movements woke him and he held me and fucked me for the second time. Next morning I was resolved to complain to the authorities but he showed me photos he'd taken with his digital camera and printed off while I was drugged and he threatened to publish them on the web and show them around at Uni. 'Like it or not Kathy dear, you are going to keep coming here and we will be taking our relationship to higher levels. In return you get to stay on at the university,' he told me. He agreed that it was blackmail but said that if I complained it would be easy to convince people that I offered him my body in return for being given a pass grade."

Tears were falling down her face and I began to feel very guilty about putting her through this but I told myself that it was for her own good and somewhere in her story there would be some evidence we could use against him.

"About a fortnight later on a Friday he commanded me to go to his home again. This time he harshly told me to strip off and get on the bed, he was already in his dressing gown. 'Suck me,' he ordered after he'd thrown the gown over a chair. I shook my head no, but he grabbed my wrists and slipped a loop of rope over them and tied them to the bars of the bed. He must have expected my reaction and had the rope handy. 'You don't say no to me you little slut,' he yelled and gripped me around the waist with his left arm and spanked my arse as hard as he could with right. I was soon blubbering and pleading for him to stop and saying I would suck him but he took his time before he released me and again offered his prick to my mouth. Apparently my efforts were not very good and he had to keep thrusting himself into my throat until he came and flooded my tonsils with his semen. There was no choice, I had to swallow the stuff because he held my head to his groin for several minutes before he withdrew. At one point while I was sucking him, he took his camera and photographed me several times with his prick in my mouth. My face showed clearly but only part of his prick could be seen. One picture in particular showed me looking up along his belly at the camera with my mouth stuffed with half his prick. I felt sick at the sight of it. Again he threatened to show the pictures around the Uni. 'I hope you enjoyed the taste,' he said, 'Because you will get to taste it after every fuck from now on even after it has been shoved up your arse. And that's where it is going before you go back to your dorm. Girls like you should have had all their holes reamed out long before they get to your age.' I could only sob with the utter degradation of what I was being made to do."

"The bastard kept me naked at his house for the whole weekend. He fucked me normally but did it hard before we went to sleep and for the first time I did have a climax and he did force me to suck him afterwards. In the morning he again tied my wrists but this time it was so I could not escape when he fucked my bottom hole. He put some Vaseline up there first by even so it was very painful. He had me many times that weekend and thereafter once or twice a month but always it was done in a way that would disgust and humiliate me. Most weekends I received a spanking too. I almost didn't return after the summer break and just prayed that he wouldn't demand my services and that I would be allowed to do my project properly. Yesterday when I was almost at the end of the third experiment and getting the results I expected, he came and turned the equipment off and whispered, 'My house this weekend.' Deciding I couldn't face it any more, I slipped a box of the rat sedatives into my purse and thought I would end my own life. That's when you came into the library."

Sarah went and hugged Kathy when she finished answering the question and both girls sat crying on the settee. I apologised several times for asking the question and making her answer it and in many ways I felt guilty but I also felt we had enough information now to find a solution to the problem without Kathy committing suicide. The professor's actions appalled me and Kathy's story was so moving I didn't even get an erection. It certainly didn't titillate me in any way. I started to think of ways to stop him once and for all times. Getting Kathy moved to another lab probably wouldn't end her torment and would negate the work she'd already done. Only Rowlandson's removal or subservience would help. I pondered how we could achieve this without spoiling Kathy's chances of getting her doctorate. For a little while I left them alone and went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Returning to the lounge I received somewhat resentful looks from the girls but I waited until we'd all downed a glass before bringing up the matter of how we were to bring about Rowlandson's downfall.

"You could walk into his office and ask him what he does to Kathy and record his answers," Sarah suggested after we'd thrown some other impractical ideas around.

"His office is almost a thoroughfare. Students in and out all the time," commented Kathy, "And he's at a conference until Friday."

"So I guess you can survive a few more days in the lab if he's not there." Kathy agreed that she could. "Your idea of recording his answers is a good one though Sarah," I went on and thinking aloud, "We could try and record it at his house. I wonder if we could slip in on Friday with Kathy."

"He makes sure all the doors are locked after I enter. He's keen to make sure no one can get in or see in," said Kathy. "He's got security lights too."

Eventually we hashed out a plan but it all hinged on a surprise element to get us inside the house. I also expressed my worries that Kathy would have to sit through hearing the story of what he did to her again but she was resolute in saying she would go through with it. "You both know now. It's out in the open. It may upset me but at least I will know he will be the one that is going to be worried sick."

It was late by the time we'd finished and Sarah was worried about Kathy if she was left alone. I gallantly offered the two of them my king-size bed and I slept in the guestroom. I heard them whispering for a while behind the closed door but I didn't listen in to their thoughts.

September 25th 2004

Morning. Sarah is at work and I drove Kathy into town with her. Both slept here last night but I did sleep with Sarah and Kathy had the guest bed.

Things went more or less according to plan yesterday. Sarah was able to borrow a video camera from the husband of a woman she'd made a wedding dress for. Now, not only would we record his speech, we'd record his mannerisms and appearance as well. Kathy stopped a little before Bernard's house and let us out so we could slip around the back of the house. The windows were all blacked out. We guessed he wouldn't be looking for intruders around the back even though for a large part of the time we were brightly lit by the powerful lights. I gave Sarah the sheet of glass I'd brought along and then waited at a corner of the house close to the door and watched Kathy as she rang the bell. As soon as the door started to open I signalled to Sarah and she threw the glass against the wall where it shattered with a loud crash! Bernard distracted for a moment thinking someone had broken a window, turned back into the room and this allowed me to rush passed Kathy and push the professor to the floor. Sarah and Kathy came in and helped me tie his wrists. He was of course furious and threatened the girls and me with all sorts of dire consequences. I locked the door and we dragged the bound man into the lounge where we plonked him in an armchair and bound him to it. Sarah took the video camera out of her pack and checked it was working. Rowlandson continued to berate us loudly but his thoughts told me he was inwardly very worried at seeing the camera and especially at seeing Kathy with us. I told him I would explain what was happening and that he would be given a chance to speak shortly but he continued to bluster and swear at us.

With his swearing continuing in the background, I spoke for the benefit of the camera. "This is Professor Bernard Rowlandson and he is here to tell us about the activities that he carries out in his home here with some of his female students and in particular with Kathleen McCogan."

"I'll tell you nothing Meeks except that you'll end up in jail for this." However, for all his words we could tell he was extremely worried especially as Kathy was standing in front of him and he knew she must obviously have told us about what he did to her.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you professor. When I ask the questions you will answer them, fully and honestly." I sat in front of him and for the others I did the ritual of looking him in the eyes. "Why did you blackmail Kathleen McCogan into coming here? And going back to the first and subsequent times, what acts did you force her to perform for you?"

The man's face went blank and he started to tell us his version of the events. "I thought I could blackmail her quite easily because she was such a timid student and had few friends. Just like Caroline Harper a few years ago. I thought it would be great to have a sex slave again. It was easy enough for someone in my position to make life so difficult she had to agree to come here and once here to seduce and rape her and to produce further evidence that would bind her to me." He went on to give the details that Kathy had already told us. He didn't appear at all ashamed of what he had done although from his flat tone of voice, it was difficult to tell. I looked across to Kathy but she was staring blankly at the wall to one side of Rowlandson.

I questioned him further when he'd finished his account of the things he'd done to Kathy. "What about this Caroline Harper?"

"She failed to get her degree but I managed to get her a place with a madam in a London hotel – well brothel. By the time she'd got to the end of her university time, she was well versed in having several men one after the other. Like Kathy would by the end of the coming term."

"Where are the pictures of Kathy?" Little by little I wormed out the location of the pictures from him and was able to delete the files completely from his computer and used his shredder to destroy the hard copies in his drawer and under his mattress. By the time I'd finished questioning him, he looked very cowed and dejected. He was totally afraid of what I was making him reveal and the fact that it was all being recorded. Mentally at first he kept swearing and cursing Kathy for telling us but as I continued to question him, more and more his thoughts were on what we would do now that we had his confession. He kept visualising a court appearance and being incarcerated in prison and I let him keep turning this over in his mind while the three of us had a quiet conference on what to do next. Finally I went to him.

"Now we come to what we are going to do with you. It is only by chance that I came across Kathy sitting weeping in the library the other evening and persuaded her to tell me what was the matter. Had I not done so you would have returned from your conference to find her dead and with a note in police hands incriminating you. We should probably still go to the police and hand over this tape but that would mean a long drawn out trial and more grief for Kathy. We will hold that as an insurance policy and indeed we'll get copies made that can be kept in safe places. Nor do we believe it will it help to her if we make you leave the university. You have managed to keep her projects away from others in your lab so only you know what she was doing so even if Dr. Worth took over, he and she would almost have to start from scratch again. So here's what we plan to do. Firstly you will do all in your power to help Kathy get her doctorate and that means doing some of the routine work yourself under her supervision as well as sharing your undoubted knowledge and expertise. She needs to make up a lot of time that you deliberately wasted. Secondly, you must now realise I have this power that can make you answer questions honestly. I will visit you frequently and ask such questions as is necessary to find out that you are helping her and that you are not trying to seduce other students. In other words, I will be like your supervisor. However I will do it in such a way as not to seemingly undermine your position in the Uni. Do you agree to that? Or would you prefer the police route?"

Forced to answer, he agreed. "Remember," I went on, "She is in charge of you as far as the work she is doing goes. Remember also, that should you decide that we have left it too long to take the tape to the police, we can always ask them to investigate the Carol Harper affair." By this time the man's face was white and he looked ten years older but he seemed a little relieved that he wouldn't be imprisoned, at least not for the time being. His thoughts showed a mixture of anger and resignation but I believe he will do what he agreed to. We decided not to start any work on Kathy's project until Monday so as to give everyone a chance to come to terms with the new arrangement.

I called to see Jean after dropping off the girls. The house is coming along fine although there still seems a lot to do and the backyard is full of builder's supplies. She's invited us to tea at her house tonight.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 10. The abduction of Chloe de Haviland

October 6th 2004

I've visited Kathy several times in the past week and there seems to be an uneasy truce between her and Professor Rowlandson but her work seems to be progressing now. I had quite a long chat with her over an early dinner in the cafeteria today and she said that he had put forward several good ideas which she was following up and he had set up a couple of the experiments himself. My conversation with her was observed by my student who suggested that I might be two-timing Sarah and I'm letting him believe that for he time being. It might help me explain why I pop into her lab every so often. I like Kathy but Sarah's my girlfriend. Rowlandson always looks worried when I enter his lab and his thoughts show a hatred for me but I've not done anything to upset his authority with any of the staff or his students although some do seem surprised that he is now taking an interest in Kathy's work.

Tea with Jean last weekend went very well as I expected it would. We seemed to be laughing and teasing each other all the time. Sarah accused Jean of paying me to abduct her to The Swan on that first night and in doing so had changed the course of her life. "Now I seem to be stuck with him!" she said with mock indignation.

"Well it was one way of getting out of going to Miriam's party," Jean grinned. "Would you rather I had kept him for myself?" My mind quickly remembered the shower and the bed episode that followed but I said nothing. I don't think I even blushed.

I also met Sarah's mother Sally for the first time. Her husband wasn't home and we only stayed an hour but I found her to be a likeable woman. Down to earth and practical. I guessed Sarah takes after her. I learned from her thoughts she was little concerned that her daughter had taken up with a professor (her mind promoted me!) and not someone of her own class. I hope that in time, as she gets to know me better, she will see me as a normal sort of person, rather than a highly intellectual and ineffective being.

I had to come to town on Tuesday morning to visit the library there to consult a local reference book they had so I called in at the bakery. Sarah was out the back and Maggie served me. "So she going to move in with you soon," she remarked.

"First I've heard of it," I answered and Maggie looked at me a little strangely. <<"Ooops! I shouldn't have said that,">> her thoughts told me.

"Sorry," she apologised, "I thought you two had talked it over."

"Don't worry Maggie, I didn't hear anything. We've talked about it but she seems very reluctant to make the decision. The ghost of Terry keeps haunting her." I knew Sarah had considered it but was still reluctant to commit herself and to lose the independence of having her own place. Obviously she had discussed it with her work mate so perhaps she was nearer to making the decision than I knew. She did spend as much time as she could with me but with dresses to make and her sewing machine and materials at her place, this was not as much as either of us liked. I'd already argued that it would help her financially if she didn't have to pay rent on her apartment and she might even be able to afford a small car. She knows it will be a little while before I earn enough to buy one for her or even to keep her but maybe in a year or so that might change. I've decided not to broach the subject again to let her decide in her own time. I've had my first real pay cheque and this has increased my bank balance to an amount higher than it has ever been before. I wanted to pay Jean back but she insisted I wait until my next cheque and I knew just what my expenses for a month would be. That was really considerate of her.

Mum and Dad seem to be getting along better now. Dad's certainly more in control of her. He insisted that she goes out and gets a job, which she did at a local supermarket. She's a shop girl now so she cannot taunt Sarah with that term in a derisory way. According to Jenny, Dad said that if she had so much spare time she had to fill it by going to a sex club, she might as well do a job that brought in some money. Mother of course was dead against it at first but now she is getting to know the others there, she seems to be enjoying it.

I have finished scanning in Joshua's book but for each blog, I have to type it in as text. The main problem is finding the time to do it. I'm not a trained typist but I can get along quite quickly even if I do have to look at the keys. Fortunately I have been able to transfer the JPG files to a laptop and have them up on screen alongside my computer. I can now read the text and type it in without jumping from one programme to another. Here's the next episode that I've just finished typing. The story must have affected Joshua a great deal because he wrote of it in considerable length and with great clarity. I will break it down into shorter parts so there is not very long gaps in these blogs (and to save my fingers! Maybe I will have to try reading it into a voice recognition programme and see how that works.).

Lady Chloe de Haviland

We had been in the house in Poplar about two years when late one October afternoon there was a vigorous pull on the doorbell. We weren't expecting visitors so I was surprised at the sound. We'd already lit the lamps because the weather had been murky and wet all day and peering out into the near darkness I could see the rain battering hard against the panes. A pony and trap stood on the roadway with the driver trying to control the rather frisky animal. No doubt the rumbles of thunder were making it nervous. I heard Naomi say, "Please come in M'lady. I'll tell Master Joshua you are here." Naomi bustled into the parlour where I was trying to coax some life into the fire, "Lady Chloe de Haviland is here, Sir. She's wet through poor thing." I'd met her at several functions that I had attended in order to socialise with the gentry and she had been to the house twice previously, thus Naomi knew her.

Chloe was a down to earth woman who called a spade a spade and who would converse with the servants as readily as with the high-born. I always had a warm affection for her even though she was perhaps twenty years or more my senior. "Good afternoon Lady de Haviland," I greeted her, "If you please, would you come into the kitchen where it is warmest. The parlour fire has only just been lit. You must have had an ill day to be travelling in this inclement weather."

"Indeed Joshua it has been a most vexing day and I am in sore need of some warmth and dry clothing but also Thomas my driver is outside and I fear he is just as wet and cold as me." It pleased me that the lady thought of her servant's situation as well as her own.

"Shall I go to him Joshua and tell him where to stable the pony and to come to the house as soon as he can?" Naomi asked. I readily agreed.

Beatrice arrived and curtseyed. "Don't stand on ceremony today Beatie, I'm no more than a drowned rat at the moment. Do you think you might find me something dry to wear?" Chloe asked.

"I'm sorry M'lady but I think only Joshua's clothing is near your size. I'm much too small and Naomi's will go round you several times. He does have a warm nightshirt that is clean or I can find some blankets to wrap you in until your clothes dry. With only the two of us women here we have no need of an extensive wardrobe."

Beatie apologised again and so did I but Chloe smiled. "Don't worry yourselves. It is me that is intruding. The nightshirt will do fine and I sure have worn worse in the past. I had visions from her mind of her in rough sailor's garb but they were only fleeting glimpses and her thoughts were more on the warmth coming from the kitchen range. I'd heard stories that when she was a young girl she'd been captured and taken to France by a band of ruffians who kept her as a servant mistress for several years before she was finally released.

Naomi returned and shook the cloak she'd had over her head. "It's an awful night out. You'll not be wanting to go out again it M'lady. Shall I see to airing the spare room and the beds sir?"

I was about to agree when Chloe surprised everyone. "No need to bother with any of that. I'll share Joshua's bed. You won't mind will you?" she asked.

"Of course not." She must have seen the look on Beatie's face who had just returned with my nightshirt, because she went on, "Don't worry Beatie, I'm not taking him away from you. Probably the bed is big enough for all three of us. Now help me off with these wet things if you please. Maybe I can get Joshua's bedtime shirt on before Thomas comes in." Unconcernedly she undressed and allowed Beatie to help while she dried herself in front of us and was still naked when Thomas, (I never did find out if that was his Christian name or his surname), knocked and came into the kitchen. Still Chloe's thoughts were more concerned with getting dry and warm than the fact she was completely undressed and in a room with two men who most socialites would consider her inferiors. I deemed the woman to still be in good shape for her age and wondered if she would expect me to service her in bed that night. I'd had older women but none as old as her.

Naomi took charge of Thomas. "You just face the other way young man," she ordered, "And start to get your wet things off. Quickly now," she went on when he hesitated realising that he was in a room with three women, one of whom was her ladyship. "I'm sure M'lady won't wish you to be coughing and sneezing when you drive her home on the morrow." Thomas was no match for the forthright Naomi and did as he was told.

By now Chloe sat clothed in my shirt and a pair of thick woollen socks while Beatie brushed the tangles from her wet hair. "I look like a comical peasant girl," she laughed at herself, "So that's how you'll treat me while I'm here. No more of this M'lady stuff, I'm plain Chloe until I'm wearing my own clothes again. Did you hear that Thomas? It applies to you too. We're all equals here especially as we are quite dependent on the hospitality of our hosts. I am most grateful for that and I'm sure Thomas is too Joshua. It will be like the old times when I was a servant at the chateaux." Her statement again surprised us all and in turn we all replied, "Yes miss Chloe. My two girls had a fit of the giggles, which started everyone off and soon the atmosphere was one akin to a party of friends. Only Thomas remained somewhat aloof and bemused by it all.

Chloe helped Beatie arrange the wet clothes around the back of the range to dry. "Shall I set the table in the dining room Josh?" Beatie enquired of me.

Chloe again interrupted. "Seems as if you have already set the table here so we can just add a couple of extra places. It's warm here too and less trouble to cart the food through. I said not to treat us like royalty and I meant it. I'll do my share of work and you can make sure Thomas does his." Without her fine dress she did indeed seem like one of us and we soon were chatting like old friends. Only Thomas remained rather quiet. I reminded Beatrice to get a room ready for him but Naomi whispered that she would look after him and then grinned at me. <<"I rather like him and the glimpse I had of his prick earlier should give me a bit of pleasure. Josh hasn't had me in his bed much lately.">> From her thoughts I knew he wouldn't stand a chance of avoiding being seduced once she took him to her bed.

While the girls, including Chloe, were clearing up the dinner things Thomas and I went to get more wood in. <<They haven't said where I will sleep. S'pose it'll be over the stable. Still they were very kind at the meal. Maybe I'll get to sleep inside the house. Miss Chloe was in good form tonight. Showed she was really a servant at one time. She probably had a worse time with those frogs than servants do over here.">> I sensed a story if only I could worm it out of Chloe but I would have to do it discretely.

Eventually we sat around a blazing fire in the parlour. I to one side of the fire in my favourite wing-back chair, Chloe in another armchair opposite me, Beatie sat on the floor at my feet seemingly wanting to keep herself between Chloe and me and Naomi and Thomas together on the settee. Although it was a three-seater settee, Naomi pushed Thomas hard up against one end. He didn't seem to object though.

"I didn't know you'd been a servant Chloe. I thought you was born a lady," I commented when we were all settled with tankards of ale. Normally I wouldn't have dared to say such a thing but with Chloe in my nightshirt and her having told us to treat her like one of us, I felt brave enough to try. He mind flashed to a kitchen rather different to ours. Someone was shouting at her in another language that I guessed was French.

"Yes, for three years. I was sixteen when… But it's a long story that I won't bore you with."

"I'm sure we wouldn't be bored and we've the whole evening ahead of us. Think of it as earning your supper by telling us a story," I wheedled.

<<"I suppose I could. Wonder if I dare tell them the rude version? It might make him hornier tonight. No, they'll think I'm a real harlot. Perhaps they've already guessed that from the way I undressed in front of them earlier. After being with JeanPaul and near naked for three years, I forgot about modesty.">> "Maybe I will Josh but I might need another tankard of your excellent ale first," she replied. <<"That will give me time to decide on which parts to tell them.">>

"You could always use your powers Josh. She'd have to tell us then." I could tell Beatie was trying to get a little dig at her rival.

"You know I don't do that except under exceptional circumstances Beatie. I don't do it to friends who might want to keep their secret lives quite secret," I chided her wondering if Chloe would take the bait and ask me to do it.

"I heard a rumour about that. Something to do with finding the rapists of Annabelle Collison, Blakely that was before she married. Tell me more, I'm intrigued." <<"I wonder what it is like to be hypnotised. I saw a man do it at the county fair once. Made the poor subjects do all sorts of weird things. Might liven up the evening.">>

While I was debating how to answer her Beatie piped up, "He looks into your eyes Miss Chloe and you have to tell the truth, all of it. You can't hide anything and it seems to make your mind remember everything clearly. He made me do it when he first took me in. It doesn't hurt but it feels a bit strange. You want to keep quiet but your mouth just goes on and on until you've told everything. As it turned out I was glad I told him and he's never mentioned it to anyone else. Nor has Naomi so you'll only have Thomas's word to worry about." Thomas crossed himself and promised to keep everything he heard that evening, a closely guarded secret.

"I'll still have that tankard of ale and then perhaps I'll agree to it." I knew from her thoughts that Chloe had nine-tenths made up her mind and having the ale was just so as she didn't appear too eager to reveal her past.

"Very well." Chloe said when she'd had a few sups of her ale, "What do you wish me to do?"

"Just sit back, relax and look me in the eyes. Then when I ask you a question, you will answer it truthfully and completely, even all the details on how you were abused or used for pleasure." I paused to let this sink in and to give her a chance to back out before asking, "What happened to cause you to become a servant? What was your life like in service? And how did you get back to being a lady again?" Her mind went back many years and I saw she was walking in a wood with a small brown and white dog. Clearly and as if reading from a book she started.

"It was a few days after my sixteenth birthday and I had begged for a puppy as a present. Caroline Dubarry had one and took it to all the functions and it made her the centre of attention, which pissed me a bit. I don't think my caring for the puppy would have lasted very long for at that time I was very arrogant and firmly believed that my place was with the upper crust of the world. I was the daughter of Lord de Haviland and made sure no one forgot it. However, at that time I'd had it only a day or two and I decided to walk over to the Saville's and show it off to them and especially to their son Jason who was a little older than me and quite handsome. I took the short cut through the woods as it was still light and the weather was dry. When I was well along the path I heard some gunfire but just assumed it to be hunters after deer. Shortly after a group of four men came running down the path behind me. They looked like sailors and were jabbering in French but, although I had a French governess, I could pick out only a few words. Rudely they pushed by me and then one stopped and told the others to get me and hold me as a hostage. The words were clear enough for me to understand. They acted on his instructions and I was held and pulled along. The puppy ran off and I started screaming until one produced a knife and held it to my breast and bade me be quiet. With a man pulling at each arm I was dragged along until we came to the road.

I almost got away at that point. One man had let go of my arm and I shook the other free and ran back into the woods but they quickly caught me again. This time they tied my wrists. I know I called them some very unladylike things both in English and my school French but they just laughed and the leader, who I found out was called JeanPaul, said slowly and clearly, "Maybe we keep you and not let you go when we get to the boat. It will be nice to try and tame an English bitch aristocrat and maybe we can use the knowledge that we have you captive to our advantage." We hurried along the road heading towards the river. After only a short way I was pulled to some bushes at the side when we heard a carriage approaching. It was empty except for the driver so I guessed he was going to pick up his master of mistress from an afternoon function. Two of my captors stepped into the road and produced a brace of pistols and forced the driver to stop. He was quickly knocked out and I was thrown in. We then drove at great speed to a little dock area where a small boat was tethered.

"Shall we tie the cunt to a tree?" one of the sailors asked JeanPaul. "I started to protest at the use of such a rude term for the daughter of a lord but JeanPaul slapped my face and told me to shut up. At that moment we heard horses approaching. "No, put her in the boat and we'll use her to shield us." They roughly bundled me into the boat. I remember struggling and trying to kick them but that only made them handle me even more rudely. Several times my tits were sorely squeezed and my bottom smacked. We were but a few yards from the jetty when the horsemen appeared. One dismounted and shouldered his rifle and trained it on us. JeanPaul made me stand and held me from the back while I faced them so I was in direct line of the bullet should the rifle be fired. I knew then exactly what he meant by using me as a shield. The sailors were rowing strongly and the distance between us and the men on the shore was rapidly increasing so I guessed that even had the rifle been fired the chances of my being hit were quickly diminishing. Eventually I was allowed to sit but knew from the looks they gave me, the minds of all four rowers were undressing me. It was unnerving to sit on the back seat facing them knowing I was getting further and further away from my home and I started to cry. They asked my name and when I told them they laughed as though it was a huge joke. I started berating them again in my native tongue and in the few rude words of French that I knew. JeanPaul not only continued laughing at me, he started teaching me further very disgusting phrases that I could use on them. I broke down and sobbed. After an hour a sailing boat, which they called a sloop, appeared in the failing light and I wondered now they were relatively safe whether I would be taken on board or dumped in the water. In halting French I asked what they were going to do with me. "If you are good, I take you to the chateaux, if you try and cause a lot of trouble I let everyone fuck you and toss you in the channel," he replied as if either course was perfectly acceptable to him. I sobbed louder at the news.

One of the sailors lit a lantern and held it up. The sloop saw us and altered course so we closed on it quickly and as soon as we were alongside, rough hands lifted me on board and dumped me in a corner of the deck. For a few minutes orders were shouted and sailors seemed to be moving in all directions. The little boat we came in was hoisted from the water and put on the deck not far from where I sat. More sails were unfurled and the ship heeled over at what seemed an alarming angle and we began to speed through the water. It appeared the captain wasn't too keen on having me aboard but JeanPaul seemed to have the final say. They spoke too fast for me to pick up much of the altercation and with all the other ship noises I couldn't hear the conversation too clearly. Eventually they reached some sort of agreement and JeanPaul cut the bindings to my wrists. By now they were very sore and had chafe marks around them but I was more concerned by his next order. "Take off all your clothes." "No!" I screamed at him, "Not in front of you! Not in front of this bunch of filthy bandits! I'm not one of your quayside whores!" My mind wondered if this was going to be the mass rape that JeanPaul mentioned as the prelude to my being thrown overboard. "You take them off and have them whole for later or we cut them off and you have nothing to wear when we arrive in the harbour." I knew every seaman carried a knife in a sheath at the back of his belt and I'd already seen how easily they cut the rope. "Please, don't." I begged. JeanPaul didn't hesitate. He ordered two men to hold my arms and anther two to cut my dress off. I quickly changed my mind and said I would do it but JeanPaul ignored me and said that I would have to do what I was told first time in future. Soon, despite my efforts and pleas, the tattered remains of my clothing were thrown over the side and I was totally naked in front of the crew about twenty men. Fortunately the light was fading but I had no means to cover myself. Because of the angle and motion of the ship I was forced to hold on to some ropes and thus could not cover my body. I knew they were all staring at me and several had their pricks out and were openly rubbing them and making the most disgusting comments. They were the first pricks I'd seen in a hard state and I tried to turn my head away but that only brought another sailor showing his weapon into view. Perhaps it was fortunate that at that time I only half understood what they were saying. I remember shivering both from the cold air and the fright on not knowing what they would do to me.

"Spread her over the hatch," JeanPaul ordered and if found myself being dragged and half carried to an area raised about a foot higher than the deck. Two sailors held me across it by my arms and they squeezed and mauled my tits at the same time. Two others pulled my legs apart. I steeled myself to be raped although I begged them not to. Fingers invaded my vagina and a seaman announced that I was indeed a virgin. "Not for much longer," JeanPaul laughed, "And by the time she gets back to her home she'll be very experienced in all the ways the French can fuck." I wept bitterly but I knew it would make no difference. With the noise of the wind and rushing water, and the creaks a boat makes under sail, I didn't hear it coming but I suddenly felt something hit my arse followed immediately by a hellish pain I screamed and struggled to no avail. Shortly after another band of fire, another pain. JeanPaul had doubled a length of rope and was using the loop to welt my buttocks in a most painful way. Ten times he hit me and I later found the doubled rope had produced nearly twenty vivid red lines. There was no respite to the pain. As soon as he stopped whipping me, JeanPaul thrust his prick into my cunt and fucked me as hard as he could. I'm sorry if the terms offend you but while in their clutches they insisted I used the crudest words for what they did to me. My maidenhead was unceremoniously swept away but I hardly noticed the pain against the background of fire covering my whipped arse. I suppose he must have come inside me but I felt nothing until he withdrew only to be replaced by the captain. More pain but it all seemed to blur together as the crew drew lots for three of them to have me. I remember little of them until a bucket of cold seawater was thrown over me and I was released.

It was getting quite dark by then so I could only see silhouetted shapes in the faint reflection coming from the white sails. "Help her to my cabin," ordered JeanPaul. I slipped on the moving deck but strong arms caught me and took me to a cabin near the back of the boat. JeanPaul lit a small lantern and gave me some cloths to dry myself and then indicated that I should lie on a bunk bed. Still sobbing with the pain, I lay face down on the bedding and prayed my life would soon end or I would be rescued by a gallant midshipman and taken aboard one of his majesty's frigates. Neither happened. "There's a bucket under this lid if you feel sick or need to piss," JeanPaul informed me as lifted the centre section of a seat. The motion of the ship and the stale, tobacco scented air of the cabin, were already getting to me and I sensed that I would be needing the bucket soon. "Don't try and leave this cabin, I will be back shortly," my captor informed me as he left. I had no desire to move even as far as the dreaded bucket. Even the smallest movement of my legs caused me great pain. I lay there feeling wretched, wondering what was to become of me, wondering how soon the pain would go, wondering if the servants I'd had punished at home felt the pain like I did. I thought not although their cries were not far removed from mine. Soon though I was compelled to lift the seat and vomit into the bucket. In a slight interlude between bouts of sickness I did manage to piss and get most of it in the bucket but that only made the smell worse when I had once more to put my face over it to be sick again. At that time, I just knew I was going to die in the very near future.

I don't know how long I stayed hovering above that noisome bucket but I was still there when JeanPaul returned, "Wipe your face and drink this," he ordered handing me a cloth wet with seawater. Still kneeling I wiped the worst of the sick from around my mouth and took the glass he offered. It was alcohol of some sort but it had a strange taste. "It will help the sickness," he explained but from my translation of his words, I wasn't sure whether he meant it would make me more sick or help me to get over it. Fortunately it was the latter and five minutes later I was able to crawl back to the bunk. JeanPaul pulled a blanket over my body and then sat on a seat and stared into my eyes without saying a word. It wasn't hypnotism like you use Joshua. He just stared. I was too exhausted to fight him but I debated whether I could ask a question without receiving more punishment. "JeanPaul?" I started tentatively, "JeanPaul, what are you going to do with me? Please tell me."

"It's no secret Chloe. We will take you to my chateaux and you will become one of my kitchen maids and learn to cook and learn to service my desires or the desires of my guests. We're not going to drown you, if that is what you are worried about. It would be a great pity to waste a lovely body such as yours when it can be used to give us much pleasure. Now just lie there. If this fair wind holds we should arrive sometime tomorrow and you can find out your new role in life then."

"Will I ever get back…" I started to ask but he left the cabin again.

I know not how long I lay face down on the hard mattress before he came back again and this time he brought some food. French bread, still quite fresh, some cheese and a bottle of red wine. "Eat this, we've still many hours before we arrive." It was almost a command. I rolled on to one side and gave a little cry as the pain in my arse re-emerged with vengeance. Ignoring my cry he part filled two leather tankards with the wine and I wondered how many others had drunk from that same tankard since it was last washed. I tried unsuccessfully to drink without my lips touching the leather and eventually had to drink normally although even that was difficult from the position I was in. He drank from his without any qualms and smoked a clay pipe while he watched me. I did feel better for having eaten a little and tried again to ask the question I wanted an answer to. "Sir, JeanPaul, will I ever get back to my home again?"

"I expect so Chloe but it won't be anytime soon. While we have you, your father, Lord de Haviland, will have to cooperate with our operation. He will have to find us a place to store our goods on his estate now that the excise men have discovered ours in the old chapel. They nearly caught us today as we were returning. You were a piece of good luck for us so I intend to keep you."

"They'll hang you if they catch you."

"Kidnapping you is only one of a long string of things they could hang me for. It would make no difference if I murdered you now so whatever I do to you makes no difference to what your law might do, if they catch me of course. Now forget all that, I'm ready to bed you again. And don't think about complaining or you'll be over the hatch and feel the rope again and a few more sailors get to use your cunt." I knew that was no idle threat. In the flickering light of the small lamp I watched as he removed his top-coat and his breeches. When he approached me I turned my head and received a sharp slap across my cheek. "Look at it," he demanded, "This will be your master for months to come. It may be the tool that puts a new life in your belly if it hasn't done so already." I reasoned that it shouldn't have because I only finished my monthly curse a day or two before. His prick, so close to my face, seemed enormous but later, when I became more knowledgeable about such things, I learned that it was only a little bigger than normal. "Give it a little suck." I must have looked horrified but he calmly reached under the blanket and twisted a nipple. As soon as I yelled he popped his prick in and I knew better than to bite. "Suck it," he repeated. The taste wasn't unpleasant, not like I imagined it would be so I sucked. It was the less painful option. He didn't keep it there long, just long enough for it to become fully hard, then threw the blanket off and rolled me on my back. Once more I cried out as my sore arse hit the mattress but worse was to come. Spreading my legs he climbed on top of my body and began fucking me quite robustly. The pain from his weight on my welted arse was almost too much for me and I yelled at the top of my voice but JeanPaul grinned and told me to quieten down otherwise he would tickle the front of me as well. I guessed his idea of tickling was to use the rope again so I tried to curtail my screams. I almost started to feel some enjoyment from the fuck but then he spurted his stuff in me and withdrew and once more I was left with just the agony in my arse and the soreness inside my cunt. Soon he rolled over and lay beside me so I was able to lie face down once more to relieve the weight on my poor bottom but sleep didn't come as easily as it did to him. Eventually I dozed until someone came in the night and woke him. He was gone on watch for some hours and I did get a few hours fitful sleep before he returned just as a little of the dawn light came through the skylight in the cabin. For the second time that night I watched him remove his top clothes and get into bed alongside me. This time though, he wasn't erect and he seemed very tired and fell asleep immediately.

A couple of hours later, activity on the deck aroused him and I could feel his hardness against my body. "Time for a quick fuck before breakfast, I think," he stated and pushed me on to my back again. The pain had died a little but even so, the fuck was again very painful although this time he took longer and I think did his best to pleasure me so that I had my first climax. The pleasure and the pain sensations bewildered me at that time but I was to get many more insights into that later. I still resented being on that little boat inside a cabin that smelled of tar and tobacco smoke but for the first time, I had at least partially enjoyed a fuck. "Use the bucket and be ready to come to breakfast in a few moments. The men do it over the ship's side," he pointed out and I took the hint that I might be made to do so if I objected to the bucket. He came back a short while later, lit his pipe and dragged me naked on deck. The crew cheered but none touched me although they made remarks about my body especially my tits and my arse. It was very cold that early in the morning and at sea with the keen wind and I was soon shivering almost uncontrollably. I know that JeanPaul had intended to keep me naked but even he could see that I would get the chills and possibly die if I wasn't in warm clothing. He asked a young lad who was about my size to find something for me to wear and he returned with thick trousers, a wool shirt, and a jersey. My leather shoes had not been cast to the sea and were returned to me but I soon took them off again because they were slippery on the wet wood; wood that was constantly changing its angle seemingly in several directions at once. Watched by most of the crew I had to dress myself in these coarse clothes. They felt warm but they itched as well and the trousers chafed my arse. Sitting on the hard hatch to eat was painful but I tried to hide it from the crew because I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how badly they'd hurt me. Breakfast was very different to at home. Bread, with various pickles, cheeses and meats washed down with a hot drink that may well have contained rum but I didn't ask. Several men came and sat on the ship's rail where I could see them and lowered their breeches to perform their morning ablutions. I knew they did this to embarrass and humiliate me further but I tried to ignore them and didn't even turn my head. I found it disgusting though, to have to eat while men pissed and shit in front of me.

Near midday we sighted the French coast and the captain ran up their national tricolour flag and headed the boat southward for some hours. The wind was not as strong now and many times it seemed they turned the boat in a different direction causing the sails to go from one side to the other and making it heel the other way. When I asked why they did this, the sailors just laughed at me as though I had made a joke. The sun was out and I found a spot where I could sit on a pile of relative soft canvas and be out of the way. I tried to think of a way to escape but on a boat the only way out of the situation was to throw myself overboard. I couldn't swim and had a fear of being in the water so that wasn't an option. A few of the sailors spoke when near but I couldn't always understand their dialect. JeanPaul's was nearer to that of my French teacher and he deliberately spoke slower to me. For much of the afternoon he seemed busy with navigational problems and only came to me when we had lunch. A hot fish stew this time. Later there was more activity and I noticed we were approaching closer to the shore. Men were in the rigging reducing the amount of sail we carried. One of the crew pointed to a stone building on a rocky promontory. "JeanPaul's chateaux," he said. That was the place I was to spend the next three years and where I gave birth to two children, one girl who was taken from me as soon was born and cared for in a convent, the other I miscarried. To this day I have not seen my daughter."

Tears filled ran down her face and her mind conjured up images of her baby being forcibly taken from her arms while she pleaded and wailed at them to let her keep her. It was very moving experience for me too and almost cried at the thoughts of what the hated French had done to her. I refilled her tankard with more ale. She'd been supping frequently during her tale but she didn't seem to notice. Chloe just kept on talking almost as if we weren't there. Never before had a person talked for so long while under the influence of the ring.

[I decided to break this blog at this point and continue again later. Joshua's account continued uninterrupted but my typing fingers needed a break. The narrative must have moved him deeply because he wrote such a long and clear account of it. I will post this episode and follow it with the remainder as soon as I find time to type it all. Derek.]

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 11. The Servitude of Chloe de Haviland

October 13th 2004

Back to typing again. Sarah still has not come to any decision on moving in with me but I feel she will soon. Her thoughts tell me she is seriously thinking about it but finds it a major step to take and she is continually haunted by what her ex-husband did to her. The tension between Kathy and Rowlandson has eased slightly and my student now firmly believes Kathy and me are having an affair. Otherwise there is not much to report on 'the home front.'

To continue with Joshua's account of the evening with Chloe de Haviland.

"As the sloop neared the quayside, the small boat was lowered and it took a rope to those on the dock. This was attached to a thicker rope and used to pull us alongside. I stood in the warm sunshine wondering as to my fate and trying to see if there was any hope of escape. There seemed to be none. My arse was too sore to run even had there been anywhere to run to. A small crowd of men, women and children lined the edge of the dock and there was much good-natured banter between them and the crew although I only understood a little of what was said. Some I knew concerned me but I couldn't determine much of it. For the time being I stood as far away from the crowd as I could almost trying to become invisible in a corner. As soon as the sails and everything were stowed and the boat tied up properly JeanPaul came and brought me forward. "You will come with me to the chateaux now but first you must return Pierre's clothing," he remarked casually.

"But that will leave me… What will I wear?" JeanPaul just raised his eyebrows and said nothing. "I can't! I won't!" I screamed. That was a mistake. On JeanPaul's instructions, four sailors held me while Pierre removed his clothes from me and I was displayed in all my nakedness to the population on shore. The sailors turned me round so all saw the welts on my arse which brought some applause from the onlookers especially when JeanPaul explained that I was an English lady of noble birth. He went on to say that for the second time in two days I had refused to obey the orders of a true blood Frenchman and as I had done it in front of them all, I would be punished in front of them. "Hoist her arms up above her head." Once again he became cold and had a very cruel look in his eyes. "Please, please," I pleaded, "I cannot take any more pain. My skin will burst open. I will die." A thin smile lifted the corner of his mouth, "You will not die but you might wish you had. Perhaps now you will learn not to question my orders. My hands were fastened to a rope that went high aloft somewhere and my arms were pulled up until I could hardly stand on my feet. JeanPaul went to a coil of fine rope and unwound several feet of it and then doubled it to make a long loop like he'd done when he'd thrashed me earlier. I shouted, I begged in English and French for him not to do it but I knew it was no use. He took a stance to one side and a little in front of me and only then did it dawn on me that he was going to whip my front and he was going to do it so everyone witnessed my degradation. I was absolutely horrified and so terribly afraid that I pissed myself, an action that brought many ribald comments from the shore and from the crew. I saw JeanPaul swing the rope back and shut my eyes. A terrible pain flashed across the top of my thighs and my knees buckled till only the rope above my head held me up. I let out a tremendous scream that sent the seabirds flying and squawking overhead. The next lash was equally painful and landed across my lower belly. It left welts that stood out not only across my front but also around my sides where the long rope had curled around them. Steadily he worked his way upwards, the pain ever increasing until he reached just below my breasts I could stand it no longer and I passed out. A bucket of seawater thrown over me brought me back to consciousness and left my body dripping wet and the welts more painful as the salt bit into them. I prayed for the end but JeanPaul was not done. Quickly as if trying to finish his work before I finally left this world, he lashed my tits with three horrendously painful blows each leaving a double welt from the way the rope was folded. I fainted again and when I came too I was on the deck with more water being poured over me. I lay there for a while, writhing in agony. I must have passed out again because when I came to, a girl was putting my shoes on my feet. JeanPaul stood above me. "There is still more space on your body to receive the rope's kiss or that of the whip or martinet at the chateaux if you wish to continue to disobey me Chloe. You have just a few minutes to compose yourself ready for the walk to your new home. Maria will guide you. The villagers will watch you all the way. I will be along later."

Walk? I could not even stand. Maria and a sailor helped me to my feet but I fell to the deck again and wailed and writhed in the most severe pain. Thrice more I tried to stand but physically I couldn't. "Throw me in the water," I begged. "I want to die." "You will not die Chloe but you will remember and obey in future. You do not give orders here. You are a prisoner, a servant and a slave. Go to the chateaux now." Once more Maria and a sailor lifted me to my feet and this time half carried me to the railing where strong hands lifted me painfully on to the quay. I felt my knees give way again but this time an enormous giant of a man gathered me in his arms and carried me like a baby up the hill. The villagers followed us, some shouting insults and others giving me words of sympathy. The man gently deposited me in the kitchen of the chateaux and left me in the care of Maria and two other women.

The older one, the cook, ordered the table to be cleared and I was laid upon it. Water infused with herbs was brought and my welts gently sponged and cleaned. It soothed them but little. Presently a cup of a warm bitter liquid was placed against my lips and I was made to drink it. The willow-bark infusion it contained slowly eased some of the hurt but I could hardly move without tremendous pains sweeping through my body. Maria helped me stand and made me walk a few steps at a time around the room while another maid, Josie supported me under an arm. Blindly and crying bitterly, I did as I was told because they said it would help to free my muscles but when they saw that I collapsed frequently, Cook ordered they let me sit awhile. She piled several cushions on one chair and although it hurt my arse to sit, it was better than the pain of standing. I declined the food they offered but took some wine to wash away the taste of the infusion. Some two hours later, JeanPaul came in and looked me over. I cringed away in fear of what he might say or do. "She's had a wearisome journey Cook, let her rest today but put her to work in the morning. Don't take any nonsense from her. Make her do a full day's work as is expected of the others and send her with Maria for training in the evening." He left. "Wearisome journey indeed," I thought, "He thrashes me unbelievably cruelly twice and then blames the journey for my condition." I was mentally indignant but too sore and afraid to do anything about it. "And what did he mean by 'bring her for training in the evening?' The sexual training he alluded to on the boat?"

Maria and Josie helped me upstairs into a small but clean room. Inside were a small bed and a few items of furniture but no clothing as far as I could see without searching. I lay on the side still free of whip marks feeling utterly wretched. Maria promised to look in on me when she could but they all had other work to do. Some time later Maria and Josie brought some food but I didn't much feel like eating although I did peck at it. Later still they came to me again with Cook who inspected my welts closely. They were now very colourful and much swollen. "She won't be able to do much tomorrow whether JeanPaul orders it or not," she said. "Put the ointment on girls and let her rest. Fortunately he has never whipped any of us this badly. Perhaps it is revenge on the English for what they did to his family generations ago. Let her rest now and if any of you wake in the night perhaps you will look in and see if she needs anything." Both Josie and Maria promised they would. At least there were some kind people in the house. Josie crept in sometime in the night and gave me some water when I asked and put a little more ointment on the worst places. Near dawn, Maria helped me to relieve myself and gave me some more willow-bark mixture and a drop of cognac to wash the taste away. I dozed off but was awakened by the two girls and taken down to the kitchen wearing only my shoes which seemed necessary on the rough stone floors in the servants part of the chateaux. Cook examined me again and then gave me an apron, which I tied loosely around my stomach. "Sorry," she apologised, "This is all you are to wear. At least it won't chafe your titties." Standing and moving still caused me great distress but Cook told me that I must try to work and to make sure I was doing something if JeanPaul came into the kitchen. I arranged cheeses on plates and took them through to the dining room. I shuffled along, bent over like an old woman. The captain and two other men were already there and looked at me with some horror. One of the men remarked that it was wrong to treat a woman, even an English woman, as badly as that. JeanPaul arrived just as I was setting down the plate.

"Stand up straight woman. You are of noble blood. Be proud of your body and show it to us." I tried to straighten myself but once again the pain was too great and my legs failed me and I ended in a heap on the floor. The man who'd remarked on my treatment helped Maria to lift me and I stood petrified fully expecting that I would get another beating. "Show some mercy, JeanPaul," the man said, but the eyes of my new master didn't soften. "Let her stand on her own feet." I was shaking with fear and pain and barely kept my balance. "Stand up straight. Push your tits out," he ordered. Of course I couldn't do it and only barely kept my feet. "So you still defy me Chloe," he growled and momentarily left the room only to return with a riding crop. I collapsed on the floor again. "Ah your back is still unmarked and you are offering it to me to paint with nice stripes." I knew he would thrash me again and once more I was near to passing out. As if in the distance I heard the man who had defended me earlier say, "Desist JeanPaul. She can no more do what you ask than you could in similar circumstances. Is it not enough that you have already marred this young girl's body beyond the bounds of decency? I'm sure it was once beautiful and we should be using it for pleasure and not degrading it in such an appalling manner." Murmurs of agreement seemed to come from the other men but I couldn't be sure of it. "You may use it for your pleasure when I've finished Monsieur Letrac," snapped JeanPaul, "In the meantime while in my home you will refrain from commenting on how I treat my staff." He stood to one side and I howled in anticipation of the expected blow. It never came. For a few seconds there was silence except for the sound of a woman's footsteps. They stopped with one foot either side of my body.

"You will not hit this child any more JeanPaul. What you have done already is a disgrace to your family name. This poor thing had nothing to do with the atrocity committed against your grandmother. In fact from what I've heard she could already have saved your life. Had she not been in the boat you would probably have been shot and yet this is how you repay her. The English sailors who raped and murdered your father's mother are long since dead and so your revenge against this poor innocent thing is a grave offence to the church and to our people. It is one thing to have kidnapped her and brought her here as a servant or slave to be used as payment against a debt but quite another to subject her to such gross torture. Put the crop away JeanPaul, calm yourself and continue with your breakfast." The voice severely berating JeanPaul was that of the cook. "I will take her now and train her in our ways but I will not allow her to be hurt any more other than for such punishments as all servants need from time to time." For a few moments there was a stunned silence and my dulled mind wondered how a lowly cook could dare to address her master so. It was a year or so later that I learned she was actually his mother, the result of a liaison between her and his father when she was but a maid at the chateaux. It was with great relief that I heard JeanPaul leave the room.

Cook and Maria helped me to the kitchen and sat me down for a short while to allow me to calm myself. When I had recovered a little Cook came to me again. "Just because I saved you from an unjust thrashing doesn't mean that you can get away with anything and sit around idle. You have been brought here to train as a servant and to serve the pleasure needs of your master and his friends. I have no qualms with that. You may have been a mistress in your household but here you are on the other side of the carpet. I will set you work to do, work that you may well find hard or degrading but you will do it just like the other servants do. Like them, should you not do your best or think you can argue with me then that strap you see on the wall there," she pointed to a broad black leather strap, "Will caress your arse in no uncertain manner. Do you understand that?" I nodded and replied "Yes, ma'am." "Before today is out," she went on, " JeanPaul will no doubt find an excuse to apply the leather to me. It will not be for helping you or defying him, but he'll find some little excuse. We all know you will be the real reason behind it so I will make sure that you do things as I want them done. I have long believed that if all you snotty-nosed, pampered young tarts experienced the hardships your servants face each day, then the world would be a far more just place. Now is your chance to find out exactly what life as a maid really is like. I might be hard on you at times but I will try and be fair. Now get off your arse and help Josie clear the breakfast room."

It hurt to move but I shuffled along and did the best I could. Josie and Maria and also the other girls who only came in the daytime helped where they were able. Still no one gave me a maid's uniform like the other girls wore so I was naked apart from the apron and my shoes. My coloured, welted and bruised tits stood out prominently and made some of the day girls wince just to look at them and I had to be especially careful not to brush them against anything. Mid morning Josie and I had to take refreshments into the lounge where the four men were in deep discussion. Josie took the wine because I was shaking so badly and I rattled the plate as I lowered it on the table. I knew all eyes were on me particularly those of JeanPaul but he only said 'thank you,' and nodded to Josie.

Near lunchtime I turned and hit my left tit hard against a post. It made me scream and I was about to run from the room when Maria caught me and held me around the shoulder for a short while. "Dry your eyes Chloe," she said quietly, "Calm down. These things will happen and cannot be helped. At least it wasn't deliberate."

The men appeared to have finished their discussions at lunchtime, and the meal was taken in the dining room where we were expected to serve the guests. Again I came under scrutiny but was able to control myself a little more until JeanPaul remarked to Monsieur Letrac, "If you really want to fuck an English aristocrat Jacques, take her to your room this afternoon. She's untrained but nice and tender." That caused some laughter except I noticed from Monsieur Letrac. The servant's lunch was just finishing when a message came for me to go to Monsieur Letrac's room. I nearly fainted but Cook said I had to go; it was part of my duties here. One of the chambermaids showed me the way. "Come," he called in answer to my knock.

He was a middle-aged man, not unattractive and he'd already undressed and was wearing a robe in preparation for my visit. I began to weep again but he gently took my hand and led me to the bed. "Chloe," he said, "I wish to fuck you but I have no wish to hurt you further. I would have preferred to have you without all these dreadful marks on your body but I may not get the chance again. Come to the bed and take that apron and your shoes off so we can join together." I did so and lay on the soft down bed while he removed his robe. He was the first man I saw completely naked and I could see that his prick wasn't fully hard but stood out from his body at an angle. "Now my dear, I know you are not experienced or trained but I trust you will do your best. You're young and should learn quickly. First you need to use your mouth to make me fully hard and ready to enter your lovely cunnie. To do that I will sit on the edge of the bed and you will kneel on the floor and suck me gently. That is probably the easiest for you in your condition." I half knew from being on the boat what to expect and at least Monsieur Letrac was trying to be kind to me. Soon I had him in my mouth and on his instruction, gently massaged his shaft with my hands. His prick was soon rigid. "Now you will lie across the bed with your legs over the edge and as wide apart as you can." Again I knew he was being considerate because he stood between my thighs and licked me until I was wet and then he entered me without putting any pressure on my body. My arse still hurt but while he remained still, the pain was bearable but even the smallest movements he made sent spikes of pain through me but I tried not to complain and I began to feel some pleasure from what he did. Towards the end I even tried to thrust back which seemed to please him greatly. I had a little climax before he shot his seed into me and withdrew. But that was not the end. "Lie lengthways on the bed now Chloe," he instructed, and when I did he climbed on top head to tail. His soft prick hung down near my face and for a while I thought he was going to lie on my tender body but he held himself a little above it. "Suck me again dear Chloe and allow me to do the same to you," he whispered. I was a bit concerned as to the stickiness of his manhood but thought it couldn't be that bad and I didn't want to earn another thrashing if he commented on my refusal to JeanPaul. I sucked him in and then felt his tongue on my cunt and that created a very pleasant sensation there. A little later he asked if we could lie side by side and do it that way because it was a strain for him to hold himself above me. We did it like that for some time although there was more pain for me, I deemed that I would be able to suffer it without crying out and indeed it was probably less than I would be getting doing normal work chores. I climaxed again, much more strongly this time. His prick hardened from the attentions of my mouth so I rightly surmised he would want to fuck me again. This time he had me kneel on all fours and took me from the back. Looking between my breasts and thighs I could see his bollocks swinging as he drove into me much harder and for longer than the first time. I climaxed twice before he loosed his load for the second time. Once more I had to suck him and then we lay side by side, face to face and talked for a little while about my life at home in England. The remembrance brought tears to my eyes again. All too soon I was sent back to the kitchen and shortly after I saw him leave on horseback.

"Did you please him?" Cook asked. "I think so," I replied, "He tried to be gentle." Cook shrugged, "Don't expect them all to be. Now help Maria prepare the fish." Cook dismissed my dealing with Monsieur Letrac as though it was nothing out of the ordinary and indeed, later I found that it was.

At dinner JeanPaul called me to him and lifted my apron and thrust his fingers in my cunt. "Did you service him?" he asked and I had to tell him all the details in front of the Captain and Josie and Maria. I hadn't seen the other man leave. Later when we'd eaten and everything was cleared away, Maria took wine and glasses into the lounge and bade me follow her. "Whatever you are asked to do, do it as best you can. For goodness sake don't anger JeanPaul by refusing. I expect I will have to show you what to do first. Probably he will want you to suck him until he spurts in your mouth. Don't spit it out. Swallow it down. The captain may want your arsehole, many sailors do. That will hurt but not as much as the lash. Remember that Chloe. Nothing will hurt as badly as the lash." Maria poured the wine and I noticed there were four glasses so it seemed that I would get one too. "Take your apron and shoes off," Maria ordered me as she undressed herself. She was several years older than me and had larger tits but what caught my eye was the fact that her arse had the remnants of fading marks from the strap. "What do you require of us sir?" she asked JeanPaul. "A little mouth work Maria. You can perform on me and then she can work on the captain. He must leave us before the night is out. I watched as Maria opened JeanPaul's breeches and pulled his prick and bollocks into full view. She showed me how to gently massage a man's shaft in a similar way to I was shown earlier and then she sucked and massaged more vigorously. I tried to do the same with the captain but after a while he stopped me. "I want her arse," he said abruptly. Maria was right. "Show her Maria," JeanPaul ordered. Maria knelt down and pulled her bottom cheeks apart, "Try to relax your muscles and push your hole open like you are having a shit," she told me. I rightly feared it would be very painful for me but I also knew from the repeated warnings, that to annoy JeanPaul would be even more painful. He still resented the fact that Cook had stopped him beating me earlier and had done it in front of his friends. The captain entered her fairly easily and then turned his attention to me "We'd better use a little fat on this one, she's very tight," he observed. Maria ran to get some and pushed a liberal amount into my tiny hole. I did cry out when I tried to pull my buttocks but held myself and waited for the onslaught. Part of the pain was from his forcing my hole open but as much came from the way he grasped the front of my tortured stomach. I couldn't help but cry out. The captain held me and pushed his way right in and fucked quite hard but there was no pleasure in it all for me, only an excessive amount of pain. For a few moments I feared the pain would overcome me but I managed to keep my senses until he withdrew and wiped his prick on my pubic hair. After that sucking JeanPaul to a climax was relatively easy. For a short while we all sat and drank a couple of glasses of wine which soothed me a little but all the time I was fearful that he might find an excuse to punish me. He dismissed us afterwards but told me to attend his room later. In bed he fucked me like he had on the boat and unlike Monsieur Letrac he had no concern for the pain he caused. However, once he'd had his satisfaction from my body, his demeanour softened and we talked a little before he fell asleep. Again the pain made me lie awake even though his bed was softer than the one in my room."

At this point Chloe paused and indicated she needed a refill of ale.

[Again I have decided to have another break in the lengthy narrative and will post the remaining instalment as soon as I can type it. Derek]

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 12. Dr. Anna Pearce

October 20th 2004

Wednesday's seem to be the only evening I have when I can find free time to do these blogs. Sorry I lied at the end of the last one. I'm taking a break from Chloe's story because the ring has provided me with an interesting story from the university and I want to record it while it is still fresh in my memory. It is incomplete as you will find out but it is still a lengthy tale. You'll just have to wait until next week for the next part of the Chloe saga to find out what happens to her.

Yesterday afternoon I took a sheaf of computer printouts into the faculty staff room, partly to get out of the lab for an hour and partly to sit in a comfortable chair and have a coffee while I tried to sort out the data on them. Only a few staff were in and I greeted those I knew. One was Dr. Anna Pearce, a chemistry tutor and an excellent teacher who had tutored me for several years previously and who I admire greatly. Chemistry is perhaps one of the more difficult subjects in which to interest students but she did it and held our attention for every lesson. My guess is that she is in her early to mid thirties and not married. I had often wondered why because she is attractive without being glamorous, petite and keeps herself fit by playing tennis and other sports. Some students have made a play for her but none succeeded in even taking her out. Like most of her male students, I fantasised as to what we would do together when I had her alone in my bedroom but it was never more than vivid imagination.

She sat at a corner desk writing and it was obvious she didn't want to be disturbed. We only spoke a few words before I settled down a little across the room from her and spread my sheets on a nearby coffee table. I'd hardly opened my folder before I was distracted by her thoughts. At that point she was near the end of writing a letter the contents of which were unexpectedly personal and revealed a side of her that I never suspected. I really did feel guilty for listening to them this time but I almost couldn't help myself so I pretended to make notes in my folder but instead of them being of my work, they were notes that form the outline from which I am writing this blog. I started notes taking some time after I entered when I realised it would make a good story but by then she was writing the finishing paragraphs. Later, she started to read through the whole letter and correct it, and I was able to take notes of the first day of the week she spent with a woman friend.

The letter that follows is not an exact copy of what she wrote but is as near as I could reconstruct it from the information I wrote down. I certainly do not have the training that would have enabled me to take full notes in shorthand. No name was ever given to the mistress but from the visions in Anna's mind she was a large framed, big breasted and powerful woman unconnected with the university so I have no idea who she is. Against her, Anna seemed like a child.

'Dearest Mistress,

Thank you for your letter. I was delighted to receive it and felt that you were most kind in writing such a letter to your lowly sub after the way I walked out on you. I will certainly and very willingly accede to your request that I send a report and give my honest feelings on the week that we spent together at the rented cottage in the Cotswolds. Because you asked for my 'honest feelings' I guess you know the strength of my feelings concerning one particular aspect of my subservience during the week and you wish to know whether I am likely to change my views. I trust you will take my abhorrence of this into consideration before we meet again, if indeed you think it is acceptable that we do. But first my report.

As you know, I am always a little fearful of David, your husband, especially as you allow him free reign to use my body as he sees fit except for intercourse. This fear perhaps adds a little piquancy to my visit especially as I am a true lesbian whilst you desire to swing both ways as long as you are in command. That is one of the great joys for me, allowing you complete control of my life. With you I have no decisions to make, I just do as you say, otherwise my bottom will be deliciously sore from the attention that it receives from your bare hand or, more seriously when it is covered with the driving glove. So different to being here at the university where I must be in full control of the students in order to assist them fully. My fear of losing you my sweet mistress is greater than my fear of what David might do to me so I willingly accepted staying with you both for the night at each end of the holiday in order to have my week away alone with you. But you asked for a report.

I arrived at your home at five o'clock on the Friday evening and I was able to kiss you for the first time in several weeks. The first, when you lifted me so easily from the floor, brought our lips and tongues into contact and immediately I felt a thrill pass through my body and into my vagina. It must have been the same for you because you lowered me to the floor and lifted your skirt indicating that I should plant my lips directly on your pubic mound, which I did with great abandon. At that moment I heard David arrive but you kept my head pressed to your body and I could smell and taste your arousal. David's knees pressed into my back as he came and kissed you and then asked, "Why is she still dressed?"

"Only arrived a minute ago," you replied, "Come on out from there Anna and say hello to David." David kissed me hard on the mouth and felt my breasts through my blouse."

"Undress slave," he ordered. You nodded your agreement because I am your sub and not his. I could feel myself blushing profusely at having to undress in front of him even though he has seen me naked many times and has had his hands on all parts of my body. When I'd undressed and folded my clothes on to a chair I stood with my hands behind my neck and my feet apart in the way you have taught me. David came and fingered my breasts and pubis. He was aroused but I knew he would not dare to break his promise to both of us, never to have intercourse with me. Never would his penis be allowed in my vagina or rectum and only in my mouth when it was necessary to clean him. You gave me a cuddle and a kiss which made my juices flow and I felt the need to use the toilet, however when I asked, you smiled and pointed to a small cabinet about two feet high. The top lifted up and the front folded down to reveal a chamber pot set on a sturdy shelf at about the same height as a normal toilet. Under the shelf stood a roll of modern toilet paper but it was rare for me to be allowed to use it.

"It's a Victorian commode that I picked up at an antiques fair. You'll be using it for the coming week and you'll be using it in front of me, and David too while you are here." You informed me and indicated that I should try it out at that very moment. It shouldn't have been any more embarrassing than having you and David watch me on a normal toilet, which you have done before, but doing it in the middle of the kitchen perched on a porcelain pot seemed much more disgusting. David knelt and parted my legs so he had a clear view but it took a little while for me to get a flow going although a few moments earlier I felt desperate to relieve myself. When I did, it spurted with some force and splashed back over the whole of my pubic area and I was glad that you had me remove all my hair from that area at the beauticians some months earlier. Not wanting too in front of David, but unable to control myself I evacuated my bowels. The mortification of having done this in front of your husband was too much for me and I broke down and cried but you comforted me with a cuddle while I still sat on the pot. David stood laughing at me and pushed his semi-hard penis between my vaginal area and the front of the chamber pot, (which I hope you will not mind me calling it by the colloquial name 'po' to simplify the writing). He urinated forcibly causing the liquid already in there to splash me once more. When he'd finished he held his penis to my lips and I knew it would disappoint you if I didn't clean it for him and would probably result in a early punishment session, something which I wished to avoid until we were alone. The amount of urine left was small so the taste was not really unpleasant.

"Stand and bend over," you instructed and when I did so, you went on, "David, use your prick to wipe the shit from around her hole and paint her aureoles with it." For a second or two I felt a touch of jealousy that you are allowed to use such coarse words and I am not but when I felt the penis head nudge my rectum it sunk in as to what you had ordered. Never before had you had anything to do with scatology. However, the amount of faecal matter was small so there was little smell or taste left on his penis when he'd finished and I once again had to clean it. "Close the commode now Anna. You will use it whenever you need to and empty it before retiring for the night. Wash your hands, it is time for us to prepare dinner." The apron I was given covered my breasts and just about covered my genital area when viewed frontally but hid little from the side. I began to get used to it for the hour it took to cook and then I had to sit naked opposite you and David while we ate. Apart from a little cuddling and feeling while we watched TV, nothing further happened sexually until we went to bed.

When I asked permission to use the commode David requested that I wait until he was ready. He undressed ready for bed and came into the kitchen wearing only his slippers. "Sit on it but don't piss," he said and then when I was in position he once more inserted his penis inside the po as far as it would go and I could feel it tight again my slit. Holding me close he hissed, "Piss," and when I couldn't start he did so. The sound and the splashing allowed me to relax enough to start my flow, which of course went all over his manhood and my vagina. I knew he was doing it so I would get more of a taste when I cleaned him but I determined that if I refused I would only be spanked until I did. I tried to put on a look of unconcern as I took his wet penis in my mouth and gently sucked. David though, had another trick up his sleeve. When I thought that I was about finished, he held my head tight against his body and gave forth several more spurts of his urine directly into my mouth and I had to swallow. My anger must have showed but he said simply, "Get used to it Anna." From the way he said it, I knew he would do that more often and probably increase the quantity. I later guessed the pair of you planned for me to be initiated like this.

By the time I'd emptied and rinsed the po and thoroughly scrubbed my teeth, you were lying spread on the top of the bed and David was vigorously fornicating with you. "Pleasure yourself with the dildo on the nightstand while you watch," you ordered and I did so. David came quickly and for the fourth time that evening I had to suck him clean but afterwards I had the real pleasure of sucking you while you did the same to me. When we'd both climaxed all three of us lay side by side with you in the centre and drifted off to sleep.

I awoke with a start. Daylight was streaming through the partially drawn curtains and the cause of my awaking was apparent. David was pushing the bedclothes off and telling you to kneel ready for anal intercourse. He didn't use those words of course. Seeing I was awake he said, "Suck her hole and my prick and leave plenty of spit I want a good fuck of her arse before you take her away." I did so and then had to watch as he penetrated your rectum and ploughed into you with great gusto. You groaned a bit but didn't seem to be in as much pain as I expected and indeed you had a climax although I am not sure whether from his copulation or my diddling of your clitoris. It seemed quite a time before he erupted inside your bowels. I knew what I had to do but was uncertain as to whether I could do it especially when I saw the brown stains on his penis. However, I shut my eyes, opened my mouth and then closed it when he'd put his messy penis inside. Somehow it seemed easier if I didn't see it. I could get some taste though although from the small residue it wasn't too objectionable. David made sure I cleaned him properly and then I had to remove his seed from inside your bottom with my tongue. That I didn't find unpleasant and I was delighted to be able to lick some of your vaginal juices at the same time.

Knowing that you wished to leave early, I hoped that this would be the last of our sexual encounters until we arrived at the cottage. I really longing to be away from David as soon as possible because of the manner in which he tries to humiliate me with his perverse ways and from the way he almost makes me pay homage to his penis. The way he uses my love for you to force me to do objectionable things is little short of blackmail. That morning when I had brought you to a second climax with my tongue and fingers he said, "Time for us to perform on the commode now Anna." I guessed he wanted a repeat of the previous evening and would wish to go even further. I was right. While you were performing in the bathroom in private, he took me to the commode and I sat with his penis under me and inside the po. In my shame I passed wind loudly and then urinated strongly over his penis. Worse, before I could control it, I defecated and from my position with his hands clasping my buttocks and holding me tightly to his loins, a considerable amount of faecal material was left around my rectum. I wondered if some would wash off when he urinated but he withdrew his penis until only the head was within the rim of the pot and only streamed gently and for a short while so only the front of my labia were wetted by his water. His penis was now fully hard and I worried that in your absence he might try and enter me but he kept his word not to. "Bend over Anna," he commanded and when I did, as he had when I first arrived, he used the penis head to wipe my bottom and then smeared around my nipples with it. He repeated this three times before he said my bottom was clean. My breast aureoles were now distinctly brown and smelled quite strongly.

"Do not wash your cunt or tits until you are at the cottage," he said and then went on, "But you do have to clean my prick." It was already quite clean from being rubbed on my breasts so I sucked it for him and was about to pull away when he held my face in place. "Oh no," I thought, "He didn't do much in the po. He must have held back," but I couldn't say anything because his penis was effectively gagging me. I think he tried to make it a little easier for me by holding back the flow but even though I swallowed a lot, quite a bit ran out of my mouth and down my body. He came with me to the bathroom and told you that I was only to wash my face and hands and let the rest dry on my body and I wondered why you allowed it. I know you were disgusted with the smell and apologised to me when we were in the car. Thankfully you stopped in a lay-by and added extra perfume to my blouse to disguise the smell somewhat. Fortunately we came to a pub with outside tables where we could have our midday meal without disturbing others.

The farm cottage was really nice. Old but with modern fittings and situated a little outside the village. We unloaded the car and stored the supplies we'd bought on the way in the kitchen and then I had to bring the commode in before I could relieve myself. In case we had unexpected visitors, we put this in the bedroom and I immediately had to christen it in its new location. Your next task was to take me into the shower and clean my body of its odour. I enjoyed that very much indeed. It was lovely have your hands on my body and exploring my private parts as well as allowing me to do the same for you. Afterwards we had an enjoyable sixty-nining session on the bed until we had both come several times. At the end you surprised me by pushing me on to the floor saying, "Enough of that, time for you to be in sub role. Go and make some tea." You wore a nice blue dressing gown but I was kept naked which emphasised my subservience. I was only too happy with this and looked forward to obeying your orders and even to being punished for my mistakes.

During the tea break you questioned me at some length about David urinating in and on me and from the way you asked the questions I knew you were thinking about doing it too. Inadvertently during the questions I remarked strongly that I didn't wish to do it and that it disgusted me. I'm afraid that you took this as a sign of my insubordination and decided that needed immediate and forceful correction. "Get the glove sub!" you shouted. That glove, the type that some speedway riders wear has metal threads woven through the palms and which you use when I am to receive a lengthy chastisement in order to prevent your hands becoming sore, is a fearsome weapon. You are a large woman mistress, and have proportionally large hands so the gloves, which are reinforced and padded, are larger still and cover a wide area of my bottom with each hit. With the strength you have in your arms, each spank is extremely painful, as I'm sure you know, and yet does not raise undue blisters, as would a cane. I started to apologise but one look from you and I knew it was useless. My bottom was going to be sore right from the start of the vacation.

"Over my knee," you demanded when I returned and you had donned the glove. From a previous acquaintance with the glove when I stayed with you a month or so before to keep you company while David was away, I knew this was going to be painful. This time you seemed far angrier with me so I could expect a harder spanking. Tearfully I draped myself over your lap and for a few moments relished the feel of my mound against your equally naked thighs. Your strong left arm held me tightly in place while the gloved right hand roughly caressed my sexual parts and splayed my thighs. "Now Anna, listen carefully…" WHAAP! The gloved hand sounded like a rifle shot in the quiet of the room and immediately a tremendous pain went through me. I tried not to cry out. I really did, but I couldn't help myself. Seconds later another hard slap hit my other bottom cheek and I started blubbering and writhing, trying to escape but you held me firm. "Listen Anna," you repeated. How could I listen when you were causing me so much pain? But I tried. WHAAP! "When I found and bought the commode…" WHAAP! "David found a factual article on the Internet…" WHAAP! "About toilet slaves. It told the stories of…" WHAAP! "Girls and some boys who willingly or were…" WHAAP! "Forced to drink their master or mistresses piss…" WHAAP! "Directly from the source. Both David…" WHAAP! "And I thought of making you do it…" WHAAP! "And as it is easier for a man to piss in a woman's mouth…" WHAAP! "I agreed to let him try it first…" WHAAP! "Now we're here you're going to learn to take mine…" WHAAP! "And after your refusal just now, it is going to be…" WHAAP! "Each and every time I wish to go, otherwise you will have further sessions with this glove." WHAAP! "And maybe not just on your arse." WHAAP! "Do you understand slave?" WHAAP! I couldn't reply because of the pain and my sobs mistress, I really couldn't but I knew I would have to obey you, the words just choked in my throat. You took this as a sign that I wouldn't agree and continued to paste my nates, WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! WHAAP! Until I thought I couldn't take any more. I begged you to stop and promised to drink from you whenever you wanted but you didn't seem to hear the words. Your gloved hand kept flaying my rear. For a while I thought you had lost control of yourself and would continue to blindly hit me until my bottom swelled so much it burst open.

It took a little time for me to notice you had stopped and the glove was now massaging my bottom but the fire was so great that the roughness just added to the pain. Vaguely I heard the glove fall on the floor and felt you lift and sit me on your lap. I know I screamed as my hurt bottom sat on your warm thighs but then your arms enfolded me to your body and I found my lips close to your breasts. A hard nipple pressed into my cheek and you turned my head slightly and fed it to my mouth. It was a great comfort but it did little to ease the awful pain in my buttocks.

I have no idea of how long I sat on your lap suckling your breasts but suddenly you stood and supporting me said, "Now we'll see if you really keep your promises or whether you just made them in the hope I would cease my spanking of your arse." You helped me to the shower because I could hardly walk and made me kneel with my mouth wide open over your urethra. "I'll try and do it slowly this first time Anna," you told me, "You will drink it all down. There shouldn't be too much because I pissed earlier." You pressed my head tight against your opening and urinated in short spurts. I tried to swallow what I still consider a most foul hot liquid and mostly succeeded even if I did find the taste very unpleasant. Not wishing to anger you and receive further punishment, when you finished I licked all the surrounding area as clean as I could. I was surprised when after a short while you pulled me to my feet and kissed me fully on the lips and thrust your tongue into my mouth in the way we do when we love each other. I knew you must be able to taste the urine but you seemed to enjoy it and this was confirmed when you said, "Dearest Anna, this week in addition to our normal love making, I want to explore the world of what is known as water sports. I will have little tasters of it while you will get the full treatment." For your taster you licked and suckled my breasts where your urine had dribbled from my mouth but I believe it was already diluted with my tears.

My hope to be allowed to shower was dashed when you put your robe on and gave me an apron to wear so we could start cooking dinner. It was very painful for me to stand and even more so to sit but you acted as though I had not just received a spanking from you and could do things in a normal way. When I didn't perform as you wished I received a sharp but not hard, slap on my inflamed bottom causing me more pain than the force of the slap warranted. It was only after you eating your meal and me pecking at mine that you again put me over your lap and applied ointment to the soreness and used your fingers to arouse me to a climax. Any satisfaction I would have normally gotten from that was nullified by the pain in my bottom. The cream seemed to have only a minor effect.

Although you tried to give me further comfort during the evening, the soreness of my bottom didn't allow me to respond in the way I would have like to. In many ways I was pleased when you decided on an early night. You watched closely as I used the commode and as it was near half full already, there was a considerable amount of splashing but you had no hesitation in licking me clean. "Before you empty it, dip your tits in the piss," you instructed me when I took the po into the bathroom. They only went halfway into the liquid but you took each one as it came out and sucked it and it was then that I realised you did indeed enjoy the taste. Perhaps in small doses it might be all right but not to have the full content of a person's bladder. For your night time pee we went into the shower and I had to lie down so you could squat directly into my mouth. This time you didn't hold back and I just couldn't cope with the flow although I drank as much as I could. We kissed afterwards and then showered. "You'll do much better by the end of the week," you informed me, "And by the time we get home you'll be able to take David's prick without him getting up from his chair." In the bedroom you handed me a sheaf of papers and said, "Read this." It was a print out of the web pages David had found but I didn't read them until the following day because my eyes kept tearing with the pain of my buttocks.

*****

At this point Anna broke off reading the letter, glanced at her watch and gathered up the papers and left so I cannot say what happened during the rest of the week. However, from her thoughts when I first entered the room, I know she was made to drink her mistress's urine many times and must have been sick at least twice as well as receiving several minor spankings for failing to drink properly. I had started taking notes just before she ended her letter so I can reconstruct the final paragraphs.

*****

We arrived home mid afternoon on Saturday, earlier than we expected because traffic was light. David greeted you with affection and me as though I was his slave instead of your lover. I particularly resent this. "Well get your clothes off," he growled, "And then you can have a drink from my fountain. You should have learned how to do that by now." I'm sorry mistress for leaving you in the way that I did, but I just couldn't face drinking another load of urine and certainly not from a man's 'fountain'. My anger at having to do it to him, overpowered my desires to submit to your will. I turned and walked out. When I saw the look of shock and disappointment on your face as I turned and threw my bags into my car I wavered in my resolve but seeing the scowl on David's face I got into the driver's seat and left.

At the next quiet place I pulled over and wept for nearly an hour before I was calm enough to continue my journey. Even then I had to pull over twice more to dry my eyes. At home I felt as if I had suffered a great loss; a bereavement, and moped around the house, starting many jobs and finishing none of them. For the first three days I felt a great unease and sickness in my stomach and it took even longer before I felt fit again. I put this down to my imbibing so much of your body fluids but it may have been partly due to a reaction to losing you. Dear mistress, I know I sent you a letter of apology for my behaviour as soon as I returned and I now wish to offer it again. I am so so sorry I didn't fulfil your wishes in the way you wanted and I beg your forgiveness for leaving you in the way that I did. I know as a sub or slave I should do everything my mistress demands of me within the limits we agreed on, but I feel that partaking in watersports as you so euphemistically term it, is something that revolts me so much I am not willing to do it. 'Tasters' like you had, I could probably accept but not the drinking of all you produce. Using the commode I can accept but to use my faecal matter in the way you did seems positively unhealthy and as far as I can see, has nothing to do with a loving relationship.

My bottom is still a little tender even though it is now three weeks since you spanked me so vigorously. Most of the time I don't notice it but when I sit on a hard chair like I am deliberately doing as a self imposed penance while I pen this letter, then its tenderness reminds me of you.

I was so pleased that your letter hinted at the possibility of reconciliation. I know I badly miss having your love even if it is at a distance and we can only meet for short periods at a time. Perhaps we could share a night in a hotel where for that one night we are equals and can discuss some revised ground rules for my continued subservience. I do sincerely apologise for making this suggestion and promoting myself to be your equal, but I believe that is the only way we can restore our relationship. I do still love you dearest mistress and wish with all my heart that we can be together again in body and in mind.

Your loving sub,

Anna

I will try and see if I can get close enough to Anna in the next few weeks to be able to give you an update later on. I too am intrigued to know what happens.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 13. Maurice

October 27th 2004

I think there was some sort of reconciliation between Anna and her mistress last weekend but I only saw her briefly in the faculty room and heard only a snippet of her thoughts before she left. They seemed very cheerful and the images were of her in bed making love with her mistress.

But this time I will keep my promise to continue Joshua Matlock's account of Chloe's story.

When he awoke in the early morning light, he fucked me again but this time he seemed a little more kindly disposed to me. After he'd finished, he held me to his breast like a lover and although it hurt my still swollen tits I made no murmur of it. We talked for a while on my life at home but later I decided that was more to get information about my father and our household than for any real interest in my life. Soon he ordered me to get back to work and I limped down to the kitchen. Cook allowed Josie a few minutes to wash and dress my welts and then we both had to finish preparing breakfast.

Work was painful but I know they only gave me the lightest jobs. Even so my body took all manner of little knocks but by the end of the day, I thought I was walking a little better and could stand almost upright.

There were three women and a man as guests that night. The man, who seemed to be a business colleague, his wife, her sister and mother. It seems that the mother was trying to interest JeanPaul in the sister so I prayed I would not be needed that night. Neither Maria or I were asked to attend a training session but my thoughts of having a night to myself were dashed by the mother asking JeanPaul, "She looks as if she will be responsive. Is she available?" I felt Maria who stood alongside me waiting to clear the dessert plates, give me a little nudge and I remembered to hold my tongue. "Of course my dear Louise," JeanPaul answered, "Available but not fully trained. As you can see we've had to use stern measures with her. Take your apron off Chloe and turn round slowly." I did so and felt my face flush red but I doubt it showed through all the purple, brown and yellow patches on my body. "Don't take any nonsense from her," he went on, "She may be the daughter of an English lord but here she is the lowliest of servants." She seemed very impressed that she could take the daughter of Lord de Haviland to bed and her admiration for JeanPaul increased when she heard his version of how I had been captured. According to him I was stolen away from under the eyes of my parents and brought to the chateaux to be kept as a slave and hostage to ensure the co-operation of my father.

Back in the kitchen I tried to find out what would be expected of me when I was called to her room. No one knew. Cook explained that all women were different, some wanted you to tongue them, others wanted to do it to you or spank you or make you do even more obscene things. It was therefore with much trepidation that I climbed the stairs to her room. I needn't have worried. "Come in," she said when I knocked. I stood shaking inside the door, "Come here girl, I'm not going to deliberately hurt you. I can see you've had enough of that," she went on, "Take your pinny and shoes off then help me out of my dress. You've not been to bed with a woman before?" "No ma'am, never," I replied. I'd heard that it was done and one of the girls I knew said they did it all the time at the boarding school she attended. "Well don't worry dear, you'll soon get the idea and I'm sure you'll enjoy it." She was a tall, elegant woman in her forties who wore a ring on every finger and a cascade of necklaces that hung between her breasts. The jewellery seemed to emphasise her nakedness. Soon I lay on the bed while she played with my tits and cunt. Several times I cried out when even her gentle squeezes caused me pain although I knew she wasn't really trying to hurt me. She didn't apologise but did try not to finger the worst places except with the lightest of touches. My raised and livid welts seemed to fascinate her and she kept kissing them 'to make them better'. It reminded me of mamma when I was a child and made my eyes wet. It was soon my turn to play with her body but she wanted me to be quite rough in the way I handled her breasts and I began to get a little aroused myself from it all. My cunnie became very wet especially when I had to lie on top of her with my head between her legs and hers between mine and our tongues delved deeply into the moist depths. We brought each other to climaxes and even though lying on top of her caused me some pain, I actually began to enjoy the sensations.

When she'd had enough of this, she took me under the sheets and made me lie with my thighs between her legs and my mouth sucking one of her nipples while she held me tightly to her body. It took a little while for me to get used to her weight on my sore parts and I tried to respond when she rubbed her clitty on my legs. We went to sleep in like that and perhaps because I felt safe cradled in her arms, I had the best night's sleep since I was taken from my home.

Light was coming through the windows when a man, the daughter's husband, climbed into bed alongside us, and awakened me. Louise commented, "Julie not up to it tonight?" "It's that time of the month," he answered. "Do you want me or her?" Louise asked. "Her first, then maybe afterwards…" "I hope you can. Julie's been milking your balls too much lately and I've felt left out." I was astounded at the intimate conversation between the man and his mother-in-law and it was obvious they'd had carnal relations many times before. "Chloe here juices up well when tongued but I don't know if she will do so with a man's prick inside. Do be a little careful of her welts. Poor things had enough pain." The man however, seemed more concerned with enjoying his fuck than for my suffering and was soon pumping into me with gusto while Louise lifted the sheets and watched. Fortunately it didn't take long before he loosed his seed but it was Louise that took his prick and sucked it clean and then used her fingers to diddle me.

At this point Julie walked in wearing just her knickers with padding inside. "Was she any good?" she asked her husband. "Not bad," he answered, "Still quite tight. Her cunt's no different to any other despite her blue blood. She doesn't put much effort into it either." I was horrified at that and wondered what JeanPaul might do if or when he was told but nothing was said. Julie came into bed with us and I could feel she was playing with her husband's prick and eventually it became hard. "Are you going to do her again or fuck mamma?" Julie enquired. He chose Louise and I had to watch as the pair of them rutted together. I could see what he meant by my not putting much effort into it. Louise thrust vigorously back every time the prick pushed into her as she was soon awash with sweat. As soon as they parted Julie sucked the messy prick and licked her mother clean. I was appalled at the incestuous relationship of the family but at that time, just thought it was the way of the French. Julie turned her attention to me and started to play with my tits and cunt like her mother had earlier and once again I became aroused and wet. My fear that I would be asked to lick Julie's menstruating cunt was fortunately unfounded. We all dozed for a while and when I awoke I knew it was quite late because one of the day maids came to the door and asked if the ladies would like any assistance to dress. They did and sent me back to the kitchen.

During the morning I expressed my fears about becoming pregnant to cook and she told me quite bluntly, that JeanPaul had ordered I not be given the no-baby drink she gave to the other girls. He wanted me to be with child by a French father, a father who could not be determined because of the number of men who had serviced me. I had already lost count of the men I'd had on the boat and now in the Chateaux and estimated that I was now at the right time in my cycle to conceive.

Several days passed and my welts were becoming less troublesome but still very tender to the touch. Most nights I had to attend JeanPaul either for just a training session or having to spend the night with him or other guests. Mostly the training was to use my mouth to better effect and to open my bottom more readily. After the first couple of days, JeanPaul's attitude seemed to soften towards me slightly and I was less afraid of getting another thrashing but always he demanded I obey him implicitly and I was at pains to do so.

It was later that first week that I became reacquainted with the giant man who'd carried me from the boat. He was a carpenter who worked semi-permanently in the house and was a school friend of JeanPaul's. One lunchtime Cook gave me a tray of food with the instruction, "Take this to Maurice in the basement." I had no idea who Maurice was but when I approached the room I heard JeanPaul's voice as well as that of another man. It proved to be my friendly giant, and indeed he did come to be much more than a friend as I will tell later. He looked up when I approached. "Come in my little English princess," he called, "At least you can stand on your own two feet now even if your body is still a kaleidoscope of colour. Put the lunch over there princess and I'll get to it in a moment." I turned to go but before I did so he asked JeanPaul if I was available to him. "Of course Maurice, she is available to every one when I am not needing her. Have her for lunch if you wish and I have a lady guest tonight so you can have her then as well."

I was only a little shocked as by then I was becoming used to being a chattel and used by anyone but I was a little fearful of what this huge man would do to me. Maurice indicated that I should stand out of the way and then continued discussing how JeanPaul would like the room fitted out. Finally JeanPaul left and I was alone with him. "Come princess, take off that apron and sit on my lap while I eat. Help yourself. Cook usually sends plenty even for a man with my appetite and if I find I need more I can always nibble at you." A huge smile spread over his face. I sat like a baby on his knee and while he scoffed the large slices of bread in one or two bites, I nibbled daintily at mine. This caused him some merriment but there was nothing spiteful in his humour and I found myself laughing too. Cook had only sent one tumbler for the wine so I had to drink from the same one as he, which I now did without thought. For a moment I remembered back to the first night on the boat when I was squeamish at drinking from the same tankard as JeanPaul and yet in the space of a few short days, I eagerly drank from the same glass as a carpenter.

When all the food and drink had gone, Maurice started playing with my breasts and cunnie and I could feel his arousal next to my bottom. I guessed he would want to fuck me but when he spoke he was almost apologetic. "Princess, this is not the best place to fuck so perhaps we'll save that for tonight. For now, just give my prick some relief with your mouth. Don't worry because I am big, I won't try and hurt you. I can be very gentle." To me it seemed that his prick was in proportion to the rest of his body. None of those I'd had so far even approached it in size and I was afraid that I would choke if I took it right down my throat as JeanPaul was training me to do and that I would be split when he later took me to his bed. He must have seen the concern on my face for he said, "Don't worry princess, many other girls have taken it inside them. It may be tight and uncomfortable at first but you'll learn to enjoy it and I'll be careful with you. I don't want you damaged."

I wrapped my lips around the bulbous end and he showed me how he liked the shaft massaged with my hands and it wasn't too long before I tasted his seed. There was rather a lot but my training paid off and very little spilled from my lips. Maurice grinned and ruffled my hair with his huge hands and said, "You'll make a good wife one day princess, whether it be to a prince or a peasant or even a carpenter." He grinned and kissed me as sent me back to the kitchen, "I'll come for you this evening after you've eaten," he called as I left. Josie commented on the time I'd taken to deliver the food and I mumbled that Maurice had made me stay. I could see cook was going to castigate me for making the others do my work and I quickly told her that JeanPaul had said he was allowed to. "If I find out that isn't true you'll feel that strap young lady. Fortunately one of the day girls said that JeanPaul had arrived late for lunch because he'd been with Maurice discussing alterations. In spite of all this, I think cook made me work extra hard for the rest of the day and my muscles were very sore by dinnertime.

Maurice collected as he'd promised. He swept into the kitchen grinning as usual and spoke cheerily to the others and then turned to me, "Time to go princess. Sorry no carriage, just your own two feet but it isn't far to my palace." "Your pokey little hovel you mean," joked Maria, "All that's palatial in there is the size of your bed and that's only to suit the size of you cave man." After more banter Maurice took me to the outside door. I hadn't been outside the chateaux since I arrived and I was concerned that I was completely naked except for my shoes. However, at the door he took a cloak from a peg and before cook could say anything, wrapped it around my shoulders and called back to her, "Just to keep the chill night air from her. You wouldn't want to have to tend her colds now would you?" We all knew that wasn't the reason for the air was still warm from the heat of the day.

His mother was in the kitchen when we arrived and I was introduced but she said grumpily, "I know who she is son, I saw her get thrashed and I saw you carry her screaming and wailing up here. I would be better if you found a girl you might marry instead of a English bitch you just want to bed." Tears formed in my eyes but Maurice just smiled and replied, "Now mother, you know that's no way to talk to a real lady." To me he said, "Don't worry princess, she's like that with every girl I bring home that's not well built and likely to give her dozens of grandchildren." With that he took me into his room and I could see what Maria meant about the size of the bed. It was enormous and it looked as if two of everything had been sewn together to cover it. "Maria must have been here to have seen it," I mused.

He took my cloak and I removed my shoes while he undressed and I saw the whole of his body. It was huge and his muscles stood out powerfully. I seemed so frail and fragile beside him and yet he was so gentle with me but I feared the pain when his prick entered me. Now it stood proudly jutting out thick and solid from his body. My body shook slightly and when Maurice noticed it he cuddled me and said, "Don't worry princess, I'll go easy and it won't be too bad for you. Soon you'll begin to like it and want more. The other girls did. I watched with some apprehension as he took a small bottle of olive oil and liberally coated his prick and when I was in position rubbed some on me and got my juices flowing. "At least he is showing more consideration than JeanPaul and most of the other guests that have fucked me," I thought. His entry was a little difficult but he took it slowly and soon that massive trunk was inside me and I felt stretched to the limit. He waited a short while for me to accommodate him and then started to fuck me properly. Once he got going, his lust took over and despite the soreness I enjoyed it and in a way was sorry when he loosed his seed. He had me twice more that night and took me back in time for breakfast. Cook and the maids examined me and remarked on how puffy and red my labial lips were but I was soon set to work. All that day I could feel the tenderness between my thighs and I kept remembering the previous night and wondered if he would take me to his home again. I needn't have worried. For the whole of my stay at the chateaux he took me every night when JeanPaul or other guests didn't require me. We became lovers and as you know I brought him with me when we left France and came back here. But that is getting ahead of my story.

After the first few weeks my life fell into a routine. Inside the house I was always naked apart from an apron and I was made to work hard just like the other maids. As she had promised, Cook treated me fairly and apart from my dress, or lack of it, no more was expected of me than it was of Maria or Josie. JeanPaul took me to his bed at least once a week and frequently there were guests, both male and female would wished to use me. Much of the bruising and colour disappeared from my body after six weeks and by then I knew I was pregnant but at that stage it made no difference to my work habits. About this time I had to watch as Cook punished one of the day maids who had through carelessness broke a jug full of red wine. It stained the linen cloth and no amount washing would get rid of it. Polly, the maid, was stripped bare and made to lie over the end of the kitchen table. She was a pretty young woman, older than me and bigger in all departments. Josie and Maria held her down by her shoulders and tears were already flowing because she knew what to expect. Cook took the strap down from the wall peg and then brought it lustily across the poor girl's bum with an almighty crack. I winced but that was only the first of ten. Polly's screams must have been heard all over the house and although there were no raised welts such as those that still showed on me, we all knew her bottom would bruised and sore for a week at least. She was given a few minutes to recover and then was ordered to help me clear up the mess. I tried to show some sympathy for her as we worked side by side, both of us naked for I had removed my apron for fear of staining it on the red wine. It was only when we'd completed the task that I was allowed to apply some ointment to her bottom and when I noticed she'd become aroused, I diddled her to a climax, for which she expressed her thanks.

Some four months later it was my turn to be on the receiving end of the strap for a similar piece of carelessness. I swung round to joke with Josie and the jug I was holding hit the corner of an open cupboard door. Fortunately the jug was empty but it shattered into many pieces. My pregnancy was now showing which may have been why I was only given six but Cook laid them on hard and I was soon howling my eyes out. Josie put ointment on me later but I had no wish to sit for a long while. JeanPaul saw my reddened arse when I served dinner and I had to tell him the story of my misdemeanour and when dinner was over, made me bend of the back of a chair while he fucked my bottom. He did it hard and seemed once more to enjoy my suffering. When Maurice took me to his bed that night, he was much more considerate but like everyone else he didn't condemn Cook for what she had done. All thought I deserved the punishment. Lying awake later, I wondered if the servants at home thought the same way after I had ordered them punished for a minor offence that really was an accident. I now realised that they must feel pain in the same way as I did because I'd been a servant long enough by then to have hardened my body considerably. I didn't resent Cook for what she had done but I guessed some of my servants would have hated me for the petty things I'd had them chastised for.

Not much of note happened until I gave birth to my first child. JeanPaul still did not allow me to cover my grossly distended body even though it was not warm in the house at that time of year. Every so often he went away for several days at a time I guessed on his smuggling exploits and on his return the last time said that my father sent his love and looked forward to seeing his grandchild. That was not to be, for I hardly glimpsed her before she was whisked away and handed to a wet nurse and taken to a convent. I was distraught as you can imagine. Having gone through the horrendous pains of childbirth, to have my baby taken from me was utterly devastating but there was nothing I could do. Maurice came to my bed and lay alongside me cradling me in his arms for the night but although they gave me comfort, it didn't please me. As is normal it seems for working mothers, I was only allowed to stay in bed for two days and then I had to return to my duties. JeanPaul inspected my cunt but it was still too open and he declined to use it. Maurice waited a week before he started fucking me again but as usual he was gentle.

Two months later, I was again pregnant and in one of my down moods I forgot my position and upset JeanPaul with a comment I made. He called Cook and ordered her to strap me a dozen times. She had to lay it on hard because JeanPaul stood and watched and encouraged her to put more effort into it. By the time she'd finished I was a screaming wreck but JeanPaul just smiled and while I was still held down, forced his prick into my arse and buggered me as hard as he could. Cook apologised and said that I didn't deserve as many as she'd had to give me and told Josie to do what she could to ease my pain. We had guests in the house for the next two days and they demanded my services and delighted in aggravating my soreness by squeezing my bottom cheeks. Looking back on it, I think it was that thrashing that caused me to abort my second child and never to become pregnant again.'

Chloe paused in her tale and seeing it was growing quite late and I had a rigid erection, I asked, "How then did you escape and get back to England?"

'On what proved to be the last of his smuggling trips, JeanPaul and his crew were waylaid and he and three men were shot dead. My father who was also with them was mortally wounded from a bullet from JeanPaul's pistol because he believed father had laid on a trap for them. He survived a few weeks and in that time he was able to contact an admiral he knew who arranged for a frigate to go to the chateaux. We awoke one morning to canon fire from the frigate sailing in the bay. Maurice came for me and took me first to his home where he took some of his mother's clothes and made me dress and then we went a little beyond the chateaux walls and into the hills which we deemed safer. Other villages did the same. From there we could watch the scene below us. Under a barrage of canon fire, boats of armed seamen in bright uniforms rowed ashore and soon after several of the dockside workers came running in all directions looking for me. "They want you Chloe. They want to take you back to England," one of the told me when I was found.

"Come with me Maurice," I pleaded. "You've kept me safe and I'll protect you. We'll say we secretly married and you are my husband." Without hesitation he agreed, "Where you go princess, I go also." No one ever questioned that I was not married to Maurice and when father died a few days after my return, I inherited the estate and we've lived there ever since. I like to think that I am kinder to my servants now and they seem genuinely pleased to work for me. Maurice still allows me to have an extra prick or two as long as he can dip his into other maidens but for the most part we are faithful to each other.' Chloe suddenly shook her head and looked at me aghast for a few moments. "You bastard," she swore and then laughed, "My God, that's some powerful force you have Joshua. Not a word from you about my not being married Thomas or I'll have your balls on a plate for breakfast." Thomas silently nodded. All of us were deeply affected by the tale of her suffering although it was many years prior to her telling us.

I did take Chloe to bed that night and she was a great lover. Beatie also took a turn with her and enjoyed the experience. Apologies are due to the reader for the length of this tale but it did make a very deep and clear impression on my mind. Perhaps it was the most moving event the ring produced in all the time I wore it.

[That ended the very long tale. I still wonder how, at his age and probably without spectacles, Joshua managed to write so much in such a small space. Perhaps he was very short sighted and held the book close to his face.

Derek]

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 14. A night in a hotel

10th November 2004

I'm sorry I didn't post a blog last Wednesday but I had to discus my research with my sponsors. This meant staying two nights in a small hotel in the Lake District, a venue chosen it seems more for its golf course than the convenience of its location. The directors of the company sponsoring me of course stayed in a top hotel but I shouldn't complain, my hotel was clean and friendly and provided the subject for this blog.

On the home front, Anna seems much happier. I sat near here at lunch today and listened in to her thoughts. She'd a notepad alongside her and was working out menus at first this puzzled me but then it became clear that her mistress was spending the weekend with her and I had images of a pink bedroom with lace curtains and the pair of them cuddling between the sheets.

Kathleen is getting on well and Rowlandson still seems to be co-operating and not trying to hassle her. She came to dinner with Sarah and me last Sunday and this brought curious looks from my student. Sarah has suggested that she might move in with me before Christmas. I know from her thoughts that it is more than 'might' as she is planning it for the weekend of the 18th and 19th of December. I always try and get off work early on Mondays because it is also Sarah's day off. Last Monday Mother invited us to dinner along with Jenny and Ralph and Jean. She's still very wary of me and whenever possible she will sit to one side, never directly facing me. At the end of the meal, Jean said to her, "You and Ray sit by the fire, us girls will wash up and that long pole of a son of yours can clear the table and put things away." Mother mildly protested but acquiesced. I puttered in the room collecting the spare cutlery and generally clearing the table but all the while listening in to my parent's thoughts. Father's mind was on the local team's poor performance at football the previous Saturday so I could easily shut his thoughts out. Mother's musings were far more interesting. Perhaps because of my presence, she thought about the bridge club and the embarrassment of having to tell the Pendergasts that her husband wouldn't allow her to play bridge any more and had sent her out to work so she wouldn't have the time.

<<Oh, I nearly died of shame when Mary Pendergast asked, "Does Ray know what we do here?" She was really worried and thought they might have to close the club. I had to admit that he did and said he'd found out because of the semen in my vagina and the marks on my body. At least I didn't mention that the rest of the family knew as well or the real way they found out. Still cannot make out how Derek did it. It's either something that's occurred naturally or it's something he picked up at university. Sarah mentioned he'd done it to her but she wouldn't say what she'd told him. It's had some good effect though although I do miss the variety of things we did at the club. Ray's prick seems to have come out of retirement since then and there's not too many nights that we don't have sex in some form or other. Even when he can't get it up, he still tries to do me orally or I have to do it to him and if I seem reluctant, he's always ready to spank me. Not hard like that night but more than enough to warm my arse. Good job the kids are no longer at home. Wonder when Jenny will start getting pregnant? She says they're going to wait until she's thirty like many mums do these days. I expect Sarah will be like her too unless she gets herself in a family way to snare Derek. She says she won't and she seems honest enough about it. I like he a bit more now but I still think Derek should have done better for himself. They seem to get on all right with each other though. Think they might live together without getting married soon. Probably a good idea so he can dump her with less problems if the find they don't get on…">> I had to leave the room at that point but at least I learned mother's honest views on us and her improved relationship with dad.

Back to the real subject of this blog.

Also in the hotel where I stayed was a party of college students, eight boys and two girls. They'd been on a climbing holiday and were spending their last night at the hotel before returning home. It appeared they had booked a small youth hostel that would normally have been closed but they were given permission to stay there for their climbing in the mountains. The group had commandeered an alcove in the lounge and I sat with my laptop a few yards away going through my presentation for the directors on the following morning but the group kept distracting me. Although the spoken words were barely audible from where I sat, I could tell from the thoughts emanating from the alcove that one of the girls was having a hard time fighting off the attentions of the boys. It seems she'd been virtually forced to have sex with them at the hostel and they were now debating who should sleep with her that night. <<"I'm going to sleep in my own room, in my own bed with the door locked," the girl declared, "You've all fucked me quite enough for one holiday. Just because Melissa brought her boyfriend you all thought I was available for everyone's use. Not tonight!">> They argued, threatened and cajoled the girl but she was adamant. <<"Perhaps you fancy that geek in the suit with the computer then Sharon," one of the boys suggested looking at me." Couldn't be worse than you Bill Saunders," the girl retorted.>>

A little later I heard the girl think it was time to get another drink so I got up and decided to get one too. We met at the bar and had to wait for someone to come through and serve us. "Hi," she greeted me. <<"He's not bad looking. Perhaps I should talk with him and get away from the other bastards for a while.">>

"Hi," I returned, "I guess you're on holiday or a field study trip." I've grown fairly adept as asking indirect questions.

"Climbing holiday. We've been at Black Tops Youth Hostel for most of the week. Heading back tomorrow. What about you?" I told her the reason for my being there. "I hope to go to Durham University next year if I get the right grades," she informed me in her northern accent.

The barman came, "Ladies first," I smiled. <<"He's more of a gentlemen than the boys in my crowd. They'd have pushed me back.">> She ordered a rum and coke and I had a shandy. "Put it on my bill," I told the barman and turning to her said, "It's okay Glenadore Products are paying. It's not a come-on. I've a girlfriend at home but I wouldn't mind someone to talk to for a little while this evening to get my mind off the dreaded presentation in the morning."

Her face lit up with a mischievous smile, " Thanks. Maybe I'll do just that. I'm Sharon." <<"That'll give Bill and his cronies something to talk about. Maybe I'll even go to his room tonight.">> We sat at my table and she asked what my presentation was on and when I told her it was on the secondary infections caused by bedsores, she made a face and said, "Urgh! Gruesome," but then went on, "Can I see?" I warned her that some the pictures were indeed gruesome but said she wanted to see anyway. The group at the alcove had gone quiet and I noticed they were watching us and their thoughts showed a mix of puzzlement at what she might be looking at and a little anger at her having left them. The Powerpoint presentation started and she made various remarks on how horrible the sores were. "Is that a woman's arse? Yuck! That is gross!"

This attracted the attention of the boys. "He's showing her dirty pictures," one called out and another strolled over, looked at the screen for a few moments and dashed for the door. "You're less squeamish than he is," I remarked. When he returned the presentation had changed to data information on the cures we had tried but he kept well away from the screen. "Is he still showing he dirty pictures?" asked one of the group when Dave returned.

"Dirty enough to make Baby Dave feel sick," Sharon retorted. We tried to talk about my work and what she did at college but with interruptions and comments from her group it was difficult. "Derek," she whispered, "Can we go somewhere quieter to talk? If I suggested we go to your room, can we just talk and not get into sex. I've had enough of that these last few days." I agreed. I liked the girl and she had a lively wit and did seem interested in what I did and I was keen to find out about the previous few days. My feelings for Sarah would I hope prevent me from taking advantage of Sharon. "I'll see you all in the morning," she said to her companions when she picked up her bag from their table, "And don't even think about causing trouble because I'm going to alert security. If that doesn't work you I'll get Derek to show you all the picture that caused Davey to go green, and that includes you Mel." Somehow the fire and menace in her voice this time, kept them in their seats although they commented on the rude things we might do together.

"This is a much nicer room than mine," Sharon observed when she entered and sat in the one armchair, leaving me to sit on the bed. "I'm sorry I got you involved in this but I've been fucked over enough this week by that lot."

I'd brought a carton of orange juice with me and while I poured some for us I asked, "Do you want to tell me about it?" From previous experience I'd learned that these semi-direct questions didn't actual force people to answer but they usually did with almost the same frankness as if I had asked, "What happened at the youth hostel?" In addition they didn't have the same feeling of being hypnotised and saying things they had no wish to say. It didn't always work and sometimes a person would answer, "No, I don't wish to talk about it," and then I would have to drop the subject. Sharon though, seemed pleased to get it off her chest. She checked the door was locked, slipped off her shoes and then lay alongside me on the bed.

She was silent for a while and then started. "I don't know why but I feel that I can trust you. I suppose I must because I'm in here on your bed in a locked room and am trusting you not to have sex with me even though I know you could overpower me so easily. It is all a matter of trust when you're climbing. You trust whoever you are roped to, to make sure they are properly belayed and can hold you in the event of a fall." Sharon paused. "I've climbed with most of the group on a number of occasions and we've had good fun so when the idea of this trip was mooted, I saw no reason not to go. I'd had sex with a couple of the lads before and Melissa was coming so I expected to share a room with her or have my own room if she wanted to sleep with Geoff, her boyfriend. That's how it worked out on the first night. I was on my own until about four in the morning when Dave crept in and slid under the covers with me. I started to object but after a bit of cuddling and kissing, I accepted the situation and eventually allowed him to fuck me. After that we fell asleep only to be woken by the duvet being pulled off but three of the boys. They laughed and joked and said that if I could do it for one, I could do it for all. "No way!" I protested but over breakfast they continued to bait me with their threats. "If I have to fuck you all the so should Mel," I retaliated but Geoff is the biggest and strongest of them and he simply said, "Anyone can fuck Mel if they best me first." That was highly improbable and Mel just sat and smirked. We were never best of friends but now I hated her for not supporting me. Anyway it all died down and things became normal when we were on the mountains. The weather was good that day and we had some great climbs and arrived back sweating and exhausted.

Mel immediately stripped off in front of the fire, grabbed a towel and went to the shower room. She knew nobody dare touch her. Geoff followed and then Dave said, "Your turn Sharon, get your kit off."

"Not with you lot leering on," I protested and went toward my room. I never made it to the door before many hands grabbed me and started undoing my buttons and zips. I shouted and swore but it made no difference. In no time at all, I was naked. The boys all undressed quickly and we all crammed into the showers. Mel and Geoff were drying themselves but my appeals to them to help were only met with laughter. So I was washed and felt all over by all seven of them and of course most of them sported erections before our shower was over. With all the feeling and touching, I couldn't help but get aroused and Dave noticed this and pointed it out to everyone when he dried me. "She's as wet as hell," he yelled out, "She's all ready and waiting for us. Let's go into the kitchen where it's warmer." I was half carried in there and the table was pushed to one side so there was space enough for a mattress on the floor.

"This is rape," I screamed, "You'll go to jail for it when we get back." The more I screamed, the more I cried, the more I begged, the more it seemed to incense them. Geoff and Mel stood and watched but ignored my pleas for assistance. I was soon held and Dave fucked me first and he did it hard to show off to the others. Two more followed and one made me suck him. I was appalled and very frightened as this was only the first day. It could only get worse. Sometime during my second rape, I saw Mel take Geoff into their room and close the door. How I resented the fact that they could take their pleasure in private while I was forced to submit to every one in public.

When four boys had had me, they decided very kindly that I needed a break and the remaining three would have me after we'd eaten a meal. They even allowed me the privilege, as they called it, of wearing my tracksuit top and pants but with nothing underneath. At least that was better than being totally naked especially as the hostel was only really warm in the kitchen area. I sat crying and sore throughout the meal and I think some of them now began to feel sorry for me. Geoff sent me to my room and had a word with them and without consulting me they agreed on a timetable for fucking me. Dave came in and gleefully announced what they had decided. Three beds were to be pushed together at nighttime and I would sleep in the centre one with a boy in the bed either side. These could have me at any time up until midnight and again from 5 a.m. One boy would have me after we returned to the hostel in the afternoon, and two more in the evening. These sessions would be limited to half an hour each. Then the last two boys would sleep alongside me the following night. There were no restrictions on where, or how they fucked me. If I made an undue amount of fuss, I would have my arse caned; they'd found a stack of bamboo plant sticks in the wood shed. I swore and cursed him and the others and threatened they'd lose their places in college when I reported it. Dave just laughed and told me to remember what would happen if I made an undue amount of fuss. I fully believed they would do so.

I had to watch while they moved the beds and then they sent Jerry in. The other two who hadn't had me were to get the nighttime shift. Jerry was the nicest one and just undressed and came into bed with me. "Sorry Sharon," he whispered, "I know we shouldn't be doing this to you so if we can just pretend and cuddle a bit that will be okay with me." He kissed me and we cuddled and I felt his prick get hard so I told him to do it. One more fuck wouldn't make any difference. It was his first time and he was quite shy and gentle so I cuddled him for longer than the half-hour we were allowed. After that I put my tracksuit on and sat around the fire. I don't know if Geoff had ordered it, but everyone then treated me as if nothing had happened and we spent some time discussing the next day's climbs.

At about ten o'clock the remaining two boys that hadn't fucked me, said it was time for bed and they even came into the loo with me to make sure I didn't lock myself away and they made me watch them while they pissed. Dan seemed to treat me like a slave and encouraged Ray to do the same. By the time they'd both had me twice it was nearly midnight and my cunt and tits were really sore and I just lay and sobbed. This annoyed them and they threatened to gag me if I didn't shut up. In the morning Dan said he was going to fuck my arse and I refused and put up a fight. The noise woke some of the others and Dave decided it was definite grounds for a caning. I called for Geoff to protest but the door to his room was shut tight. Only Jerry said it was wrong but he was pushed out of the way. Several boys held me across a bed while Dave laid on six real hard strokes and I screamed hellish loud, which finally brought Geoff in and he yelled, "You bloody fool Dave. Look at the marks you've put on her, they'll never fade by the time we get home and then if she complains we're in shit-street. We only agreed to threaten the cane, not use it." For a few moments I thought Dave was going to start a fight but eventually he put the cane down and walked out of the room. At this point Mel came in, "You boys are sick," she yelled at Dan. Geoff sent the other boys out with orders to leave me alone for the time being. Mel stayed but wasn't much comfort. Jerry came back and brought a bowl of warm water and bathed my welts and asked Mel if she had any cold cream or anything to put on them. He's actually quite a nice boy but very shy..."

We heard a noise in the corridor and a voice she said was Dave's called out that she was a whore and would willingly go to bed with a stranger but wouldn't put out for her friends. They tried the door handle but of course it was locked. I called back, "I'm only photographing her welts and non-accidental injuries ready to email them. I'm a geek so I know how to do that."

"You wouldn't do that would you Sharon?" Dave's voice sounded less sure now. "Think of your reputation too." I went to the door ostensibly to look through the peephole but I pressed my ring against the woodwork to hear his thoughts and those of the others. They all seemed very worried and urged Dave not to make the situation worse. After a few minutes we heard them move away.

"Will you photograph my bum?" Sharon asked. I said I could do that if she wanted and got out the little Nikon Coolpix. She lowered her jeans and showed me the welts. They were still very red and no doubt the chafing of the denim material had made them redder. She also showed me the bruises on her breasts, which were now quite purple from the mauling they'd received. I took the pictures and downloaded them on to the laptop and then, after enhancing the appearance of the stripes, emailed them to her address.

"At least you have some hold over them now," I remarked. We settled down on the bed again and she continued with her story.

"Jerry's a nice lad and I've grown quite fond of him over the last few days but he's shy and rarely says anything and several times he's defended me. I think that at least some of the others are wary of him because he's almost as big as Geoff is but not as demanding. Anyway, I couldn't go climbing that day, it was too painful to walk and Jerry volunteered to stay behind with me, which of course, brought snide comments from Dave and his cronies. Jerry though, treated me like a gentleman and looked after me and made no attempt to have sex even though he treated my welts with cream several times. As it turned out the rain came midday and they all returned soaked through. Mel asked how I was but I knew she was only interested to see if I was going to be okay when we got back. Most of the others seemed to realise what they had done was wrong and a couple even apologised to me.

There are no locks of the bedroom doors in the hostel so that night I asked Jerry if he would sleep in the bed next to mine. The three beds were still side by side and I deemed it safer to have Jerry there rather than be alone in the room. It poured the next day, so no one went out and we played cards and dominoes. All except the two D's Dave and Dan were especially nice to me. I was too sore to go climbing for the next two days even though the weather was good enough and everyone else went except Jerry. We went for a couple of short walks over well worn tracks and although I was sore afterwards, I enjoyed the day's out. On the second day we came back for lunch and I asked Jerry for put some more cream on me. He did so and I noticed he was bulging at the front and the soreness in my cunt had lessened so I asked him if her would like to fuck me. He was actually reluctant because he didn't want to hurt me but after the massage when he put the cream on, I insisted and he took me doggie style. That night, when all was quiet, I slid across into his bed and we did it again. None of the others know about this. Yesterday we walked back from the hostel to here and we get the early train back in the morning."

"I doubt that you intend to take the matter further," I commented, "Otherwise Jerry would be implicated too but at least for a while you'll have a little power over them." She agreed and we lay still for a while. She relived the rape sessions in her mind and I saw them in all their gruesome detail.

After a while, there was a gentle knock on the door. "It's Jerry," a soft voice said, "Are you okay Sharon?" I let him in and he hugged her. His concern for her was quite touching.

"She's okay now," I replied for her, "Take her to her room and lock the door."

At breakfast the pair came and sat with me and Jerry thanked me for befriending Sharon last night. Dave kept looking across at us and finally he came and in his sneering way asked without it being a question, "You didn't really take pictures of her last night." I took out my little pocket size digital and showed him them on the screen and his face fell until in front of him, I erased them. He started to smirk until I said, "I don't need them. They're in Sharon's inbox now. It's up to her what she does with them or whether she goes to the nurse and shows her how you treated her." He stomped back to his table looking quite worried. <<"She's thinking of going to get medical advice. We still have to bloody well be nice to her for the time being. The geek's posted pictures of her arse and tits to her email.">> I heard him tell the others, although he spoke so we couldn't actually hear the words from where we sat.

My presentation to the sponsors went well and by using the ring's powers I was able to anticipate some of their reservations before they made them. They seemed happy to continue their sponsorship of my work so I was pleased to. I was even invited to join them for golf but I declined citing that it was a long drive back for me.

I apologise to any readers who emailed me in the last month. I don't open that account very often and in the move from one computer to another and from a dial-up service to broadband, I lost all the mail in there. Sorry. If the message was important please resend it.

obohobo

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 15. Robbery at Peregrave Hall

17th November 2004

[Little of any note on the home front so I'll go straight on with the next excerpt from Joshua's account. You may like to know The Angel is still a pub but these days has had to cater more for meals than for the local beer drinkers. The inside is now decorated with horse brasses and other agricultural paraphernalia supposed to add 'atmosphere' to the interior. A large conservatory has been added on at the back to give more space for the restaurant side of things and this looks out on to a beer garden with its plastic monkey slide and swings for children. I doubt if Joshua would recognise it now.

Derek]

Beatie and I moved into this house twenty-two years ago. Naomi had died about six months previously and the cook I employed to replace her did just that. She cooked and cleaned but never became part of the family. My business now only occasionally took me to the docks and I had a fancy to have a complete break from that part of London and the bustle and grime of the city. More people of a lower class were moving into the area, which made it less safe to go out at night. I wished to become a country gentleman although I quickly found that having lived in a town all my life, country life was vastly different. It took a year or so to adapt to the much slower pace of life and the way the weather and the seasons affected everyone's daily work.

This house being smaller than the one in Poplar, Beatie could look after it like a normal wife would. Indeed everyone assumed we were married and neither of us sort to disillusion them. I did employ a maid to assist Beatie for three mornings a week, the cost of her was more than offset by my not needing a gardener on account of the grounds being so small. However I did have to rent space at the local stables for my pony and trap but costs are considerably lower here for most services. All things considered, I was financially better off in this village than in Poplar and while I couldn't consider myself a gentleman in the way the large landowners could, I was by no means at the bottom of the social ladder.

Having been brought up with working people and owning an inn, I naturally visited the local hostelries. In the early days, I tried most of the ones in our immediate vicinity but the one I prefer to frequent is The Angel, particularly as it is only a hundred yards from the house. I've been going there on a Friday evening for almost as long as I've lived here. Friday's is when most workers get paid and the pub is filled and I'd spend a pleasant couple of hours in their company and particularly with Jack Filby who became a good friend even though he was only a lowly farm foreman. One Friday towards the end of my first summer here, the Angel was almost empty. It was harvest time and with the threat of rain in the coming days, every one was working late to get as much of the grain in as possible. I had neither the skill nor the strength for such work and my contribution was more to take a barrel of ale to them at lunch time and again at the end of the afternoon. It was dusty and thirsty work and even my small amount of help seemed appreciated. I had to suffer many good-natured jibes about my soft hands and my being a 'townie' but no harm was meant by it and I think I gave as good as I got.

On this particular Friday, I sat in my usual corner and Rose, the barmaid, put my tankard of ale in front of me and stopped for a chat. "I should ban you from coming here," she joked, "You take those kegs of ale to the men and they don't come in here."

"Yes, but you supply the ale anyway," I retorted, "The reason you would ban me has more to do with there being no one to flirt with and you consider me too old." So our banter continued until a man from a group of strangers sitting at the window table called her away to get them more ale. I sat back in my corner and listened in to their thoughts for they talked very quietly and secretly. I soon found out why. The shorter man was talking but it was the images and thoughts of his that I picked up. <<If this warm weather continues for tomorrow, and it is likely that it will, all the men will still be in the fields until late. We'll stay in the woods that overlook Sir bloody Peregrave's house until we see the maids take the master's supper to them out in the fields. That will only leave a few women and maybe a boy or two inside the house. The back door'll be left open so we'll go in and lock them all in one room and then take what we can find. Go to the main bedroom first and look for jewellery and stuff that's valuable but not too big. If today is anything to go by, we should have about half an hour before the maids come back. By then we need to be on our horses and away up the Dunchester road.">> I listened as he repeated his instructions to make sure the other two knew exactly what they were to do. My listening was disturbed by Rose who came and sat by me to chat until a couple of elderly villagers came in and she went to serve them. I left a few coins on the bar for her and said my farewells but instead of going home, went to our local constable's house and explained what was to happen without going into all the details that I'd heard. "Percy," I said to him, "I just heard a snippet of their conversation because most of it was too low for me to hear but it seems they plan to raid Peregrave Hall tomorrow evening." Percy looked thoughtful but didn't let on what he planned to do. It was no trouble to read his mind. <<"I'll get a group together and wait until they're inside the house and then we'll go in and nab them. Need enough men to have two stay at each door. That's six men and then perhaps four others. If we don't warn Sir Peregrave we'll catch them with the goods and there'll be no doubt of their guilt.>> "Would you be willing to make up one of the posse if I get one together for tomorrow evening?," he asked, "I don't want to take the men from the farm if I can help it." I of course agreed but pointed out that I had little in the way of fighting skills.

The next evening we assembled at Jack Flynn's farm which borders on Sir Peregrave's land and he loaned us as much of his workforce as he could spare. Jack himself drove us hidden in a tumbrel half full of sheaves to the back of Peregrave's barn which was about a hundred yards from the house. We all slipped inside the barn except for Jack's fourteen-year old son who we sent off into a nearby field to play and watch to see if the men came. He was small framed and a bit lanky so he looked younger than he was. As soon as anything happened he was to run and tell us. It would only take him less than a minute, he being fleet of foot. Through various cracks in the barn woodwork we could also keep an eye on one side of the house. I knew nothing would happen until the maids left with the supper but I hadn't told the others so I guessed we were in for a fairly long wait.

We heard rather than saw the maids leave. Their laughter and loud talk preceded our view of them. We heard horsemen ride up to the house and soon after the boy came running and yelling. Unfortunately it was his yelling that forewarned the robbers of our presence. We effectively cut off their escape but before we had time to get into the house, they'd bolted the doors. We could hear screams from inside but even with the ring, I couldn't hear what was happening; the walls were too thick. One lad started to scale the ivy to get to a balcony but before he reached it one of the robbers pushed open the balcony window and showed us Sir Peregrave's youngest daughter, April. The lass was about sixteen years old and a very pretty young lady she was too. She was bare from the neck down as far as we could see and it was obvious that her hands were tied. The robber held a pistol to the underside of her right breast. "Get back to the ground," he yelled at the lad climbing the vinery. "Everyone else back from the house or this bitch dies. Then all the other bitches in this house." We all retreated but kept the house surrounded. This was not what was supposed to happen. It was stalemate for a while.

Half an hour later, just as Sir Peregrave himself arrived having been informed by one of our lads, the door opened and three older women and two boys were pushed out. One of the women went straight to where Sir Peregrave stood alongside Percy. She was weeping, "Sir," she started, "I have to give you a message from those men. They say you are to keep well away from the house and any attempt at entry will result in them killing your wife and daughter and the other maids that are still inside. They demand, and that's the word they told me to use Sir, they demand one thousand gold sovereigns before tomorrow evening and a safe passage from the area. They're horrible Sir. They'll kill them all if you don't do as they say."

"They'll hang for this!" Sir Peregrave postulated. "It your incompetence Percy Thurgood. You should never have allowed them inside."

Percy went red in the face but remained outwardly calm. "What's happening inside there now Martha?" he asked the woman. "Oh Sir, it's horrible. They're all in the mistress's bedroom with their hands tied and with no clothes on. They held a knife to Miss April's breast and made mistress and the others undress in front of them. When they were slow they nicked her breast just enough to make it bleed, then all of them ladies undressed as quick as they could sir."

"How many maids are there?" asked Percy

"Five maids, all the younger ones sir and mistress and Miss April sir. I think they intend to have their way with them sir if you don't get them out soon sir. Their breeches were well bulging sir. They did say they would have fun with them. That's what they called it sir…"

"Have they hurt anyone yet Martha?" interrupted Sir Peregrave.

"Not really sir. Jenny got a clout to the head when she didn't move fast enough and of course, Miss April's cut."

"And we daren't risk storming the place otherwise the ladies are likely to die," commented Percy.

"Seems as if we've got to wait it out or you have to find the money, sir."

"And while we wait those buggers are raping my daughter. Even if I could lay my hands on that much loose money, it will take me longer than a day to get it together. The bank in Dunchester will not open again till Monday." Sir Peregrave looked distraught. None of us could see a way around the problem. We couldn't even speak to the men. We were still debating what to do when we heard the balcony window open again and April was thrust forward and we could see where the rivulet of blood had run but fortunately it didn't seem too serious. The man holding her from behind threw a vase and when it shattered on the ground a note was inside it.

"If you wish to talk with us, send the boy who so kindly warned us of your coming. He will not be harmed unless there is some trickery on your part."

Jack Flynn was firmly against allowing his son to go inside the building. "You don't seriously expect me to send Paul in there where there are armed robbers, do you?" he protested. The fourteen-year-old would certainly be no match for three armed and seemingly ruthless men, that we knew, but would they harm the messenger? Or would they harm the girls if we didn't send him? It was a dilemma and one where at the moment the ring couldn't assist. Those of us around Sir Peregrave were about equally split as to whether the lad should be sent in. We debated the alternatives but there were none. However it was the lad himself that decided the issue. He dashed towards the door. They must have been watching because the instant he got to the door so it opened and he ran straight in. It quickly closed behind him. A quarter of an hour later the window opened again and the boy stepped on to the balcony. He too was naked but he waved to show he was unharmed and then shouted to us that we were to move further from the building. A little later, in the failing light, he ran from the house, still naked with his prick semi-erect, direct to Sir Peregrave.

"Sir, they told me to remind you that any attempt to break into the house tonight would result in one or more of the ladies being killed. They also said they would cut one of Miss April's tits off and send it to you if the money and their safe passage weren't forthcoming by tomorrow evening. I'm to take your answer back while it is still light enough for them to see me otherwise one of the maids will die." Jack hugged his son but he pulled away. Percy tried to question the boy but Paul said, "I've been told not to say any more or talk to anyone other than Sir Peregrave. I have to stand away from the rest of you and you sir, must be the only one to come close when you are ready with your answer. They are watching us sir and the short one has his knife ready to hurt Miss April sir."

Here I was at an advantage to the others. I didn't need to be close or to hear his words. Just as long as he thought about what went on inside, that was enough for me to get a clear picture. Paul's mind went over the events. I've sorted the jumble of thoughts to make them readable. <<"Upstairs," the man ordered after slamming the door shut. "Wow!" All those naked ladies. Seven of them, all sitting round the walls showing their tits and cunts. Must have been told not to cover themselves up. And that Miss April, God she's pretty, made my prick get hard to see her with nothing on. "Get your clothes off too boy!" I hated the way he pushed the knife towards April's other tit. It didn't take too long to shuck out of my few clothes and then the men laughed when I turned away to remove my breeches. How embarrassing it was when they made me show my prick to the ladies. I couldn't help getting a hard-on. "That's right boy, that's what those girls want to see. They'll see and feel it later," the short bloke said. I wonder if I will get to fuck one of them? At least they won't laugh at me like Betty did. "Go out on to the balcony and wave to them and tell them to move further away from the building while I think what to tell you to say to them," Shorty said. The short bloke seemed to be in charge and he seemed also to be the meanest one. Then one of the maids, she was pretty too, started squealing. I saw why when I went back. One of the three, the long haired one, had her over the bed and was putting his prick into her. Not like I've seen dad do it but more like a bull does a cow, from the back. He rammed her good too. The others looked a bit shocked so I guessed they would be fucked too. I couldn't help it if my prick stiffened even more. Maybe I'll get to do one if they let me go back. I think they'll have to. I'm sure they'll hurt one of them if I don't. They're very mean and I guess they'll hang if they get caught. Perhaps...">>

"Take this message back to them boy," Sir Peregrave went to him, "Say Sir Peregrave will ride to see the bank manager tonight to see if he will open the bank and supply the funds. It should be closed now until Monday. Please plead with them not to defile my wife and daughter." As the boy hurried to the house, his mind said, "Not much chance of that if the maid was anything to go by." Darkness fell and I could see nothing more was going to happen outside the house until Sir Peregrave came back from Dunchester so I went home to bed. I was up again at first light and after a quick plate of porridge went to the house and joined those who'd been there all night. There was nothing much to report. Candles had burned in the mistress's bedroom for a while and always it had seemed that one of them was watching from the little clock turret that spouted like a miniature church spire from the centre of the roof.

Sir Peregrave returned about eight almost empty-handed. The safe needed three keys to open and each key was held by a different employee. One of them had gone to Sandswick to see a sick relative that weekend. The director had been able to find nearly fifty sovereigns of his own money but that was all. We doubted it would be enough when they'd asked for a thousand. The director was sending someone over to Sandswick but doubted they would be back before nightfall especially as they didn't know where in Sandswick the man went and it's a sprawling place. Then the safe had to be opened and the money brought from Dunchester to here. There seemed no way it could be done before nightfall.

When he'd explained all this to us, we all were concerned as to what the men would do. Would they accept it as true and extend the time or would they disbelieve us and harm one of the girls? We watched as Sir Peregrave walked gravely to an open space and waved. A few minutes later, Paul appeared and, still naked, ran across the grass. We all noticed that his prick hung down and looked well used. Jack called out, "Are you alright son?" "Yes, Dad, I'm fine," he called back and then reminded everyone that he must only speak with Sir Peregrave. "How's my daughter? How's my wife?" Sir Peregrave asked most anxiously. Paul was rather guarded in his reply and I could hear his mind remembering the way both of them had been fucked. "They're not hurt Sir. That's all I'm told to say. It's not wise to talk about what happened in the house. I'm being watched and they'll force me to talk when I get back." The lengthy explanation the boy was given for the delay in getting the money was told in so many words that the boy became confused and asked, "Can you write it down sir please. I don't wish to get it wrong." Of course no one had pen or paper but someone ran to a nearby house and returned with the materials and Sir Peregrave wrote the note. This gave me chance to read Paul's thoughts. As soon as Paul returned last night and the place was properly barred, Shorty forced April on to the bed and 'Zeb' the third member of the trio put her mother alongside her head to tail and then the two men fucked them both. Shorty forcibly took April's virginity and the wiped his blood smeared prick on her breasts after he'd finished. Both sobbed bitterly and although Paul felt sorry for them, his prick hardened. Shorty then asked the boy, "Which one of the maids would you like to fuck?" Paul didn't know how to answer and stuttered a bit so Shorty ordered a maid by the name of Lizzie to lie on the floor and told Paul to fuck her. "She's the youngest of them and nearest to your age boy. Fuck her good and fuck her as often as you like." When Paul was still reluctant to do so, Shorty slapped the mistress's breasts hard and made her cry out. Paul enjoyed the experience with Lizzie and fucked her twice more a little before dawn. Lizzie didn't seem to mind too much and Paul wondered if he would be allowed to fuck the others or even April. Long Hair had one of the other maids but before breakfast April and her mother had been fucked twice more. The robbers seemed to enjoy defiling them probably because of their position in society.

Early morning Lizzie was partly released but had her ankles tied with a hobble so she could only take short steps. They then tied a rope tied around Paul's and Lizzie's waists with about six feet between them. "Get some breakfast for all of us," Shorty ordered, "No tricks otherwise I'm sure you can guess who gets hurt." It took a little while but they managed porridge and ham and eggs. The rope nearly caused a disaster getting the food up the stairs but they caught themselves just in time. None of the prisoners or Paul was allowed a knife but their wrists were temporarily freed but they daren't attempt to escape because of the risk to others. Several of the maids pleaded that they needed to piss so Lizzie and Paul were sent to bring a bucket and everyone had to use that. Even the mistress and April had to perform in front of the maids and the men.

Paul ran back with the note and the bag of sovereigns. Hours later Paul returned. This time cloth was bound round his mouth. He ran up to Sir Peregrave, gave him a note and ran back a few yards and sat down. It was obvious he was not to talk to us and had to wait for a reply.

'Your tardiness to produce the money and a guarantee of safe passage had already resulted in your wife and daughter being well fucked. They will now be whipped and fucked in the arse.'

Sir Peregrave fumed but then took a pen and replied,

'Sirs, I am doing all that I am able to secure the money and the constable is arranging for your horses to be ready and for you to leave by the Dunchester road. Please, I beg you, leave my wife and daughter alone until I can finally arrange things to your satisfaction.'

I didn't have much time to learn what was going on inside the house and Paul's thoughts were mainly concerned with Lizzie. He'd fucked her again but apparently the robbers had worn themselves out and needed a little time to recover.

An hour later April and her mother were paraded on the balcony, their backs and arses livid with the stripes from having received a sound thrashing. Sir Peregrave was very angry and shouted at everyone around him, particularly at Percy but there was nothing we could do. A woman relative tried to calm him but he brushed her aside.

The bank manager had come up with a further two bags of fifty sovereigns which were donated by friends of Sir Peregrave and these arrived a little after midday. Sir Peregrave wrote a note and held the bags aloft. Paul came and looked distressed. The sight and sounds of the women being thrashed had upset him. He held another note.

'We'll flog their front's next if sufficient money is not forthcoming before sunset.'

Paul's mind was filled with images of the flogging and the screams of all the women in the room. As if this wasn't bad enough the sight of the two screaming when their arses were forced and fucked almost made him faint. Some of the maids did swoon away.

Sir Peregrave added further pleas to his note and sent Paul back.

"We've got to get into the house, Thurgood. They'll never wait long enough for the money to come through. Even if it does, there's nothing to say they won't kill them any way." He berated Percy loudly for his handling of the robbery and this was overheard by one of the scullery maids, a middle aged, sour-faced woman.

"You should ask Rogers how to get in sir. He does it when he gets back late from seeing his strumpet sir." Rogers, a lean, lanky fellow, was brought to us and at first he didn't admit anything until Sir Peregrave promised he wouldn't take any action against him for the breaches of house rules. "There's a window at the back sir, where the catch is lose and the vine is thick. I've trimmed the vine in places so I know where to put my feet even in the dark and I always take a table knife with me to slip in the window join and lift the catch. It's easy sir and since I put fat on the hinges, it makes little noise. Sorry sir, but Rona and me don't get much time to meet and we hopes to marry soon." The boy looked shamefaced and half expected to be sacked.

Percy spoke before the master could reply. "You can get in without anyone knowing and you could unlock the back door? Quietly?" "Yes sir," Rogers answered confidently. We discussed how we might surprise the robbers and overpower them but Sir Peregrave was still concerned as to what might happen to his wife and daughter before then. Late afternoon a messenger from Sandswick informed us that the third keyholder had been found and was making his way back to Dunchester. They would open the vault at first light and the money would be here mid-morning. Sir Peregrave wrote another note and held it up. Paul came out looking a little weary and his prick looked as if it had been well used. "Have they beaten the ladies any more?" he was asked when Sir Peregrave handed him the note. The boy almost imperceptibly shook his head. <<"They've been well fucked though and they made me do April,">> I read as the boy turned and hastened back. We sat and waited quietly straining our ears to catch any sound that might reveal that the robbers were whipping the ladies again but all was quiet.

Percy ordered a fire be lit in the front of the house. They'd lit one the previous night as the air got quite chill when darkness fell. This time he wanted a bigger one with more people there to distract the watchers attention. That night the candles went out earlier and we hoped it was because the robbers were weary from all their fucking and having been awake the previous night. I'd brought a cask of ale from the Angel before sunset and Percy told people to act like they were having a party but to keep sober. The candles had been extinguished for an hour when Percy, Rogers and three other men two of whom were poachers and the other a gamekeeper blackened their faces and put woollen socks over their boots. Jethro, one of the poachers, told Percy to stay well behind them, as his big clomping feet would soon give them away. Singly they made their way in the darkness and although I had sight of the back door and knew what they were doing, I didn't see them arrive there. These men were used to walking unseen in the night. I did catch a fleeting glimpse of Rogers as he ran across an open area but I doubted if those inside could have seen him. Long minutes later the back door cracked open. Those around the fire had no idea of what was going on and kept carousing which I hoped was a good thing. Sir Peregrave shaking, stood alongside me in the shadows and we waited for seemingly ages. I knew he wanted to go in but was persuaded the others were more likely to be successful if he was out of the way. At least the silence from inside was a good sign. The men were inside and undetected. Suddenly there was a terrible scream as the man in the tower plunged over the parapet to his death. Inside there was turmoil with screams from the women but it quickly subsided and candles were lit. We made our way inside.

Both robbers were laid out cold on the floor and Percy and the poachers were securing them with rope from the freed victims. I took in the sight of the naked ladies but they quickly found sheets and covering for themselves. The gamekeeper had made his way to the tower and tipped the long-haired one over the edge while the poachers armed with cudgels, made their way to the bedroom. With eyes used to the darkness, the dim light from the bonfire was sufficient for them to see the villains and before they woke were knocked senseless. Mistress Peregrave and Miss April were in bad shape and barely moved until the maids recovered sufficiently themselves to help them.

I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn't worn the ring and the robbery had gone ahead as planned. Certainly there would have been fewer traumas to the victims and it would have been most unlikely they would have been raped or thrashed in such a vicious way. Sir Peregrave would have lost a few jewels and a little money but that would have been all. Now he had to contend with women who had suffered greatly. Worse was to come. April and Lizzie both became pregnant. The father of April's child would never be known but Paul was the only one to fuck Lizzie. Although he was still young and rather immature for his age, her parents forced him to marry her but it seemed to work out and she had four more children by him. April's child was given for adoption and she moved from the area to live with her sister and I heard no more of her. The two robbers were later hanged outside Dunchester prison.

Looking back on it all now, I realised that it would have been far better for me to have kept quiet on what I learned in The Angel but at the time I thought I was acting in everyone's best interest. The ring doesn't always work to advantage. However, I tell myself, that had not Paul alerted the robbers it could so easily have worked out as we'd planned – but then Paul would not have married Lizzie.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 16. A Gay experience

24th November 2004

I spanked Sarah on Sunday. It was only the second time that I had done so and she more or less provoked me into doing it. She was on her period and a bit grumpy to start with and when I tried to get her to name a date for her moving in with me she snapped at me and said tartly, "Perhaps I never will." As she turned away her thoughts came through, <<"I shouldn't have said that, I can see that it hurt him and I know I love him but is he man enough to put up with me?">> Hearing this I snatched her wrist as she started to walk away and I dragged her to one of the kitchen chairs. She struggled and said some rather nasty things about me but eventually I got her across my lap and bent one arm up her back. In between her verbal cussing, I heard her inner voice, <<"I think he is going to spank me. Perhaps he is going to show me that he's a man, a man that I've got to respect.">> Luckily that day she was in her 'cleaning outfit' which was an old tracksuit with an elasticated waistband so I was able to lower her pants with one hand quite easily. Her knickers were a little more awkward but I finally slid them and her pad down far enough to bare her bottom. Up until then her struggles had been difficult to control and she'd kept up a torrent of verbal abuse. Now she lay still as if waiting for the spanking. I didn't keep her waiting and spanked her as hard as I thought I dared until her bottom became very red and she started to cry and plead with me. I ignored the first round of begging and continued until my hand started to sting and her inner thoughts told me she'd had enough.

Remembering what Terry had done to her afterwards, I bent her over the kitchen table and put spittle in and around her bottom hole and pushed my prick in. I took it slowly because we'd only done it that way twice before but once I was in I fucked her properly and hard and at the same time diddled her clit, which I know she likes. She came some time before I did. Afterwards we cuddled and kissed and her mood returned to normal. "Derek," she whispered, "after we'd made up, "I know you're not Terry but I still have reservations about moving in with you for good. What I would like to do is to move much of my stuff before Christmas so I spend Christmas here with you and treat this as my home. I thought I would keep my place on until the end of February and keep a bed and cooking stuff there until then so that if anything goes wrong, I still have that as a bolt hole. I don't believe it will, but I would like it to be there just in case." I agreed with her and then she asked if I would put cream on her bottom, which of course I did.

My desire to spank Sarah was provoked to some extent by a voyeurism experience during the previous week. I'd gone to see the Bursar over a funding problem. "I'm sorry Dr. Meeks, Dr. Graham is in a meeting at the moment. I've no idea how long it will go on for, could be five minutes or it could be half an hour. These meetings don't usually go on longer than that. Would you like to wait or come back later? I could ring your lab when he'd free," his secretary informed me.

"I think I'll wait, if you don't mind Mrs. Forgill. It's pouring and it's a long trek back across the campus to the lab." I settled down in a comfortable chair, put my folder on the chair beside me and picked up a motoring magazine from the table. I wasn't interested but it was either that or one of the women's magazines. Mrs. Forgill's thoughts were entirely concerned with the letter to the students she was editing so I shut my mind out to her. I'd hardly settled down when a mature student that I knew slightly came in and received the same information concerning Dr. Graham's availability. He decided to wait too and gave me a standard greeting, "Morning Derek, how's it going?" and I gave the usual reply, "Not so bad, Rod, and you?"

In my early days at the university I'd met him at a few lectures and knew he was a graphic arts student who'd worked in industry for many years and now wanted to get qualifications in the newer computer technologies. We made a few remarks about the weather and the work we were doing but we had little in common so he picked another magazine and settled down to wait. He sat with the magazine open but not turning the pages. Thinking they would be more interesting than the magazine I had, I listened in to his thoughts. They certainly were more interesting and I was glad I still wore my lab coat to hide my erection. I hadn't realised he was gay and the dominant one in the relationship. The story that follows has been edited and put into a readable format. Like most people, Rodney's thoughts were disjointed and flitted from one idea to another but, having learned from my experience with Anna, I took a notepad from my folder and started making notes.

<<"I wonder if Stephen is able to sit comfortably yet? He shouldn't have two-timed me with that boy on holiday.">> The images that came through showed a boy younger and smaller than Rod and then of a badly striped arse. It almost made me sick to see it. I've put the events that occurred over the weekend into chronological order and am narrating them as though Rod was telling me the story.

'Mid-afternoon on Saturday, I met Stephen at the airport on his return from a two-week package holiday in Cyprus. We kissed each other fully and passionately, which caused some raised eyebrows from the people nearby but in the two years we've been together, we've got used to that and then I headed for the motorway and home. I questioned him a little about his what he'd done while he'd been on Cyprus but he only gave me short almost non-committal answers. At first I put it down to tiredness but as the journey progressed I realised there was more to it than that and there was something he was nervous about telling me. I resolved to find out as soon as we were home. Driving along busy main roads was not conducive to that sort of questioning.

Inside the house, I hugged and kissed him and then slid my hand down and gripped his prick through his trousers and I was surprised when he pushed me away. "Rodney, there is something I have to tell you. Can we sit down?" I began to fear the worst and I was sure he intended to tell me he'd found someone else but he started my reassuring me on that score. "Rodney dear, I want you to know that I do love you and always will and what I did on while away was no more than a holiday fling. It was just too tempting for me to resist."

He must have noticed the sad look on my face for he went on the reiterate his undying love for me and came over and gave me another kiss but I was angry and pushed him away. "You'd better tell me about it." The words came out with more venom than I intended and tears formed in Stephen's eyes.

"I know I did wrong but please forgive me. Punish if you wish. Punish me hard, but don't send me away. It was just so tempting and I couldn't resist," he pleaded.

"Tell me about it," I repeated.

"You know I ticked the 'Willing to share box' on the booking form to save paying the exorbitant single room fee, well my roommate was a boy, Terry, about a year younger than me. He was good looking and friendly and a virgin with both boys and girls although I didn't find that out until later. The hotel room was pretty standard with twin beds and en suite facilities but the shower room was pretty small so I after wiping the worst of the water off me I came into the bedroom to finish drying. I noticed Terry kept giving me little sideways looks but didn't look directly at me. I started to harden a bit but got dressed and he went into the shower but kept a towel around him when he came out. After eating in the restaurant we had a couple of beers and went to bed. He wore pyjamas but I went naked, same as we do here. I got glimpses of his body as he undressed but hardly saw his prick. What I did see attracted me and I lay in bed and wanked. He must have known what I was doing because quite a lot of light came through the thin curtains from the street lamps. Just before I erupted I reached out and took a tissue from the box on the dresser and I saw that he was surreptitiously watching me so I made a little show of raising the sheet and pushing the tissue down to my crotch. Neither of us spoke. I dozed for a bit and woke to see that he was very gently massaging his prick under the sheet. I wondered if he normally did it in bed or whether hearing and seeming me had made him horny.

I heard him get up and go to piss the next morning and as he was coming back I swung out of the bed. As usual I had a piss-hard on and I stood up so he could see it in all its glory. He stopped in his tracks. "Are you…are you one of…them?" he stuttered.

"Yep," I answered with a grin, "I live with my boyfriend and sleep in the same bed, but you don't have to worry. If it offends you, I won't try to force you." He stuttered something like, "No," and other words, which were unintelligible. "Look," I tried to sound soothing, "I know you wanked last night the same as I did. There's no need to be ashamed of it, every normal man wanks so now you know about me, you can do it more openly or we can do it together. I won't go any further than you want to go." His face went quite red but he sat on his bed opposite me and looked at my prick and I started to rub it a bit. "Can I see yours?" I asked. It was already tenting out his pyjamas. It seemed to take him ages to make up his mind but in the end he opened his pyjama jacket and lowered the pants to reveal a prick about the same size as mine. "Nice," I remarked and went and sat alongside him. I gently took hold of it and started to rub it. At first I thought he was going to pull away but he didn't and neither did he demure when I put his hand around my prick and we mutually wanked each other. We both shot our load in tissues and by then it was time to go to breakfast.

Nothing else happened during the day. The morning was spent on the beach and the afternoon going around the docks. Even in November, the sun there is pretty warm so we arrive back soaked with sweat. "We've time for a nice long shower before dinner," I said, "You care to join me?" Again he hesitated but finally said, "Yes." Of course being naked together got us both hard and I got to suck his prick for a short while and he tentatively sucked me too. We didn't do it for too long because I wanted to save myself for later.

There wasn't too much going on in the lounge that evening so we took a couple of beers to our room about nine-thirty and for a while just talked about our jobs and stuff. After a bit it went quiet and I picked up a magazine and flipped the pages. Terry sat and watched me and I knew he was trying pluck up the courage to say something about what we did before breakfast. Eventually he burst out, "What do you and your boyfriend actually do when, you know…you…do it? I've heard stories but have never met anyone who I knew was actually gay."

I told him, "We cuddle and kiss, fondle and suck each other off or fuck each other in the arse." After that there were more questions particularly concerning how much it hurt to be fucked in the arse. "The only way to find out," I said after we'd talked about it for some time, "Is for you to try it. We'll do it in easy stages so you can tell whether you'll like it or not." Eventually Terry allowed me to undress and kiss him until he was very aroused. "Would you like to try sixty-nining?" I enquired, "Rod and I always suck everything down and make sure the other's prick is nice and clean when we've finished but if you want to spit the spunk out, just keep a tissue close by." Once my prick was in his mouth he seemed very eager to suck and took down everything I produced and kept sucking until I was hard again and had shot a second load into his mouth. He certainly seemed to enjoy my ministrations to his weapon and didn't want me to leave and return to my own bed so we spent the night cuddled together. In the morning, when we both woke with hard-ons he asked to suck me again. This time I sat on the edge of the bed and made him kneel and suck my prick that way and when he got started I began fucking his mouth, gently at first and then much harder. He didn't make any objections and swallowed everything again. I returned the favour and then we went to the toilet and held each other's prick while we pissed. After that he told me he wanted to learn everything homosexuals did to each other and I promised to teach him.

Later that evening I put a condom on him and let him fuck my arse. He was over the moon with the sensation and pleaded with me to do it to him. I warned him the first few times might be painful but he insisted and I put some Vaseline in his hole and on my condom and gradually eased it in. He grunted a few times but didn't stop me so once I was really in and he became used to it I fucked him. Thereafter we fucked and sucked each other at least twice a day and by the end of our stay, we fucked as hard as we could.

There was one other little incident you might like to know of. It was the Tuesday evening of our second week and Terry was fucking my arse when in walks the maid. She stopped, watched for a few moments and then apologised and left. We'd forgotten to put the catch on the door. Next day just before dinner, there was a knock on the door and when we opened it, one of the men on the hotel staff came in. "Nina say you like men fuck-fuck, yes?" I nodded slowly wondering if he wanted to fuck us. "You like see man fuck-fuck show? Private show?" In halting english he told us that he knew of a place in town where we could see men with big pricks fuck each other. He would take us there if we paid for him to go in. The price seemed a bit steep but we could afford it so we went. We found his name to be Manuel and we went through to part of the old town to a little place on an industrial estate. We paid and when we went in we were given a pack of three condoms. A man dressed only in a toga kind of thing that showed his prick when it swayed, then showed us to seat in a room with a round central stage only about a foot high. All the seats were arranged around this. On the stage was a bed and one or two bedroom type bits of furniture. Manuel told us to open our trousers and put a condom on, "It's so there is no mess on the floor," he explained. When our eyes became used to the dim lights we could see all the other men had their pricks out and were sporting erections. You should have seen it Rod. About twenty-five hard pricks all on display and everyone looking at them or showing them off without any embarrassment.

After a bit the lights dimmed further and the stage lights came on. A minute later the door of the room flew open and two men dragged a young lad in. They jabbered in Greek but we gathered they had supposedly dragged the lad in off the street. He struggled but they managed to pull or tear all his clothes off and then they tied his hands behind his back. They paraded the lad around the edge of the stage so we could all see his small, erect hairless prick. He looked about twelve but I guessed he was actually much older and it was his make up that made him look young. All the time he kept appealing to us in the audience to help him but of course no one did. The two men undressed and showed us their huge pricks, ten inches or more, they were and thick with it. During their undressing the boy tried to escape but was held by members of the audience who grabbed him by his balls. The men sounded very angry and one held the boy over the end of the bed while the other took a leather strap and thrashed the poor lad's arse. It was a real thrashing too. You heard the crack of the leather, saw the flesh flatten and then redden. When I looked around I noticed many of the pricks had already spurted and you could see the teat end of the condom was full. A local man took my hand and put it on his softening prick and then proceeded to wank me until I came. Meanwhile on stage the thrashing had stopped and one man was forcing his mammoth prick down the lad's throat and the other up his arse. No condoms so I guess they'd been checked out medically. Both pulled out just before ejaculation and sprayed the poor lad's body with their spunk. Afterwards we were allowed on stage to look and touch the men and the boy's pricks.

There was an interval for about half an hour but the interval was more for audience participation. Most of the men there knew what was going on but we worked it out later. Those who'd shot their load and hadn't revived grabbed those who still had an erection. Some fat old Greek grabbed me, dropped his trousers and indicated that I should fuck him. I didn't really want to but thought there might have been an ugly scene if I didn't. It wasn't the most pleasurable fuck I've had. I looked to see where Terry was and saw he was on stage sucking the big prick that had been up the lad's arse. He was gagging a bit but couldn't do much about it. At first I couldn't see the other man but shortly he came around from the other side of the stage and straight towards me. "Englishman, you come," he beckoned and then grabbed my arm. "I'd just shot my load into the fat Greek Cypriot and was dragged on to the stage. There were chants that sounded like 'fuck his arse' and I found myself being pulled over the edge of the bed, just as the boy had been. I wasn't going to allow this but there were too many hands holding me to do anything more than yell at them. The man put some lubrication in my hole and then raped me. It was nothing but rape. I was held down and he fucked me without any thought for my pleasure or the thought that he was hurting me. And it certainly did hurt at first but gradually I became used to the length and girth and the way it hammered at my prostate soon had me hard again. It took a while for him to come in me even though the whole time the others there encouraged him.

The final show was two naked black men fighting. The winner was the one who forced his prick up his opponent's arse. It seemed like a no holds barred thing with kicking and punching allowed, even kicking in the balls and that's how the winner got control. He got first one hard kick and then a second to his opponent's balls and while he lay writhing in agony, rolled him on to his face and shoved his prick up the man's arsehole.

Well Rodney, that's the gist of what happened. I'm sorry I was unfaithful to you but it all means nothing to me. It was sex pleasure and yes I did enjoy myself. I know you'll want to punish me, probably severely so please can we get it over with and get back to where we were before I went on holiday."

"You bloody whoring slut. You certainly deserve a damn good thrashing but if I punish you now while I'm angry Stephen, I may really hurt you," Rodney stated with venom in his voice, "Best wait till tomorrow. I may have calmed down a bit by then."

"No, do it now. Get it over with. Your anger may just as well have increased by then." Stephen slipped out of his trousers and laid himself over the back of the armchair and held his wrists out to be tied.

"If that's the way you want it, but don't say I didn't warn you. Cheating bastard. You deserve all I'm going to give you. That cane I bought in Hamburg is going to get some use at last."

"I'm really going to thrash you this time Stephen. You'll wish you never went to sodding Cyprus.

Rodney replayed the next scene in his mind over and over. The images that came into my mind were so terrible that I turned the ring into my hand after the second replay. Rodney lashed the cane down across Stephen's naked buttocks producing such a tremendous vocal response from the lad that Rodney gagged him. He continued with the vicious thrashing until the boy's buttocks showed two dozen deep welts and Stephen ceased moving. Suddenly Rodney realised what he had done and threw the cane down and released his lover and helped him to the bathroom.

"Dr. Meeks… Dr. Meeks, Dr. Graham will see you now."

"Sorry Mrs. Forgill, I was miles away. Thank you." I went through to see the Bursar a little shaken at what I had seen and heard so the interview didn't go as well as it should have done. I don't know if Rodney and Stephen are still in a relationship or not and I don't get to see him often to find out so we'll just have to leave that episode there.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 17. Marion and Lucy

1st December 2004

I heard at the weekend that Rodney had been arrested and charged with grievous bodily harm. According to the local paper, Stephen's welts became infected and he was rushed into hospital because the poison in his blood was spreading down his legs and into his body. The police were called and even though Stephen didn't wish to press charges, the police did. They granted him bail and he has to appear before Dunchester magistrates early in the New Year.

Now to the last story in Joshua Matlock's book. There was plenty of space for more writing and it looked as though he intended to continue but for reasons unknown to me, he must have put the journal away with the ring.

It was at The Angel where my next tale begins. Twas on a bitterly cold January evening that I took myself there to get a bottle of rum to make Beatie some of the toddy that the sailors swore by to soothe a terrible cough she'd been plagued with for a week. I'd used the last of the rum to make her a drink before I ventured out. It must have been a Wednesday or Thursday evening as the public bar was empty and the fire showed only a few embers. The nights before pay-day are usually rather dull in the pub but it was rare for no one to be in but I guessed the weather and colds also had their effect on pub trade. "Your usual Joshua?" Rose asked when I entered, "I'll bring it through into the snug, the fire's blazing in there and Marion and her daughter are in." The 'snug' is the local name for the saloon bar, the room that ladies are permitted to use and where the décor is better and the beer prices are a little higher. I went through and greeted Marion and Lucy and then sat at a table on my own. I knew them both to be ladies of pleasure and while Lucy was pleasant enough of appearance, Beatie served me well these days now that the passions of my youth have long since disappeared.

<<"Why don't you chance your luck with 'im Lucy?" Marion nodded in my direction, "He's got money and I hear 'is wife's been ill for a while so he might be looking for a bit on the side.">> I had to smile to myself when I heard the remark. Thinking back I realised that I had never paid to have a whore although when I owned the inn at the docks, I frequently had the whores I employed. <<"He knows what we do and there ain't likely to be anyone else on the street in this weather.">>

<<"I dunno Ma, I 'eard as 'e 'ad strange powers that made folk do things they didna wanna do. Weird things.">>

<<"That's just bullshit. He's just a man with a prick like all of them and if you work 'im up enough, 'e'll wanna put it inside yer.">> I listened to their descriptions of me for a while and then looked in their direction. Marion nudged her daughter, <<"You've got 'im interested now. Go to 'im.">>

Lucy slowly got up and came to me, "Mr. Matlock, I was wondering if you'd be in need of some warm comfort on this cold night seeing that your wife is under the weather and has been for a few days."

"No Lucy, I'm in no need of your comfort tonight, however warm and Beatie can still see to all my desires."

I could tell that was the kind of reply Lucy expected but as she walked back to her seat, Rose called out from behind the bar, "You leave my customers alone Lucy Machin. If you take him, the place will be empty."

"You want 'im?" Marion countered, "We all know you take some of our customers for yourself."

"Well this job doesn't pay much and I don't charge the price you do and I give better service."

"Who said you do? Ted Jones?"

It seemed the evening was going to deteriorate into a slagging match between the ladies so I stepped in. I sort to end the quarrel before it started. "Rose, please refill our tankards and glasses and bring yourself a drink out here. Put it on my tab and then let us sit around the fire for an hour and we'll talk about some of the men and women we've fucked. I think that is a subject we are all interested in, one way or another." At that moment Jack Filby came in and, knowing he would likely contribute a rude story, I invited him to join our little party. Soon we were all settled and with a tankard of ale already inside me, I started the evening off by relating a shortened version of the story of Millie and the theft of Captain Jenkins' gold watch. Of course I omitted the bit about my supposed hypnotic power and just said that I had forced the truth out of Millie. "Your turn now Marion or would you prefer to go first Lucy?" I asked when I'd finished. It was an indirect question so they had a choice.

"Shall we tell them about Dunchester Farm?" Lucy asked her mother, "We could tell it together. That was the most unusual time we were fucked, or at least I was fucked and you had to watch for most of the time." The rest of us agreed. To ensure they told it truthfully I answered them in the form of a question. "Lucy and Marion, we will be delighted if you will tell us your story. Please will you tell us and include all the naughtiest bits in full detail? I'm sure Jack and I will enjoy it more if our pricks respond to your words."

"And we might enjoy it more if you both opened your breeches and we could see the effect Lucy and Marion are having on you," jested Rose. I knew it was just a tease and it wasn't really expected that we would do it but I did so and produced my half-hard prick and showed it to the ladies and seeing that I did so, Jack followed suit. "We will want to see how aroused you get as well Rose," he grinned back, "Lift your skirt a bit so we can see your cunnie."

Marion started the story. "It must be neigh on four years ago, just before Christmas, when Mr. Cant from Dunchester Farm came to me in this very bar. "I've some friends coming for a pre-Christmas party and we would like to employ the services of your daughter for one evening." Lucy was still only about fifteen then but she was fairly experienced and had begun to earn as much or more than I did. When I learned there was to be six of them I said he would have to take the two of us. He agreed and we set a price that was rather higher than we normally charged because of the remoteness of the place and the fact that we would have to spend the night there. It all went well at first. We were taken there in a closed carriage and dined with them…" We were waited on by the servants like as we were royalty," Lucy interrupted. "Afterwards Mr. Cant told the butler and the servants that were around, to keep to their quarters unless he rang the bell for them," Marion continued, "Make sure all the servants know to keep away from my bedroom area," he told the butler.

We all went up to the master bedroom which is nearly as big as my whole house, and the men shed their top clothes as there was a good fire burning. "Dance and strip for us," Mr. Cant ordered me. I did and afterwards was told to sit in a big wooden chair. Hardly had I sat down when ropes were put around me and I was tied with my arms around my back and my legs spread so they could see my cunnie all open like. Then they took more rope and bound my tits so they bulged out and went sorta purplish. I started screaming but they quickly wrapped some cloth around my mouth. Lucy was struggling to help me but two of the men held her. One of the men was not very nice and I think he wanted to hurt us but Mr. Cant restrained him when he took a big cane from the corner and gave my tits a whack. It wasn't hard but it left a red mark that showed on purple."

Lucy took up the story, "He turned to me and said in a nasty way, "If you don't want your mother's tits to look like raw beef, you'd better do what we want and do it as though you enjoy it. We didn't really want the old bag in the first place. First you dance and strip and do it with a little more grace than she did." I did but I was crying but Mr. Cant whispered that ma wouldn't be hurt if I did what I normally did and was being paid for. He wiped my eyes and I was laid on the bed. Mr. Cant then said, "We were discussing how it was possible for three people to fuck one girl all at the same time so first we want to try that out. They put some cream stuff on my bumhole and one started to force his prick in. I'd only had it in there once before so it tight and it hurt but eventually he got all the way in. We lay side by side joined like that while someone lifted my top leg and Mr. Cant put his prick in my cunt. I felt very full and it seemed as if both pricks were touching each other inside my body. Cruel Man, that's what we called him when we talked about it afterwards, knelt by my head and put his prick in my mouth. "Let's see how she fucks now," Mr. Cant said and they all tried to move inside me. At first it was all sixes and sevens and I lost the prick from my mouth but eventually they got something worked out and some sort of rhythm going. First the one in my arse came and then Cruel Man and finally Mr. Cant. They seemed pleased enough that it worked although it wasn't the most enjoyable of fucks for them or for me. The other three just wanted to do me one at a time although one wanted my bum again which was a bit easier the second time with all the spunk there was in the hole."

"Yeah and after they finished in her they came and took my gag out and threatened my tits with the cane if I objected and they made me suck each one clean after that done in Lucy," Marion pointed out. One of them also wanted to feel and play with the nipples on my swollen tits which hurt but I knew the cane would be worse."

"As they each could get themselves hard again, they put their pricks in whatever hole they fancied and just fucked away and in between times they sucked and played with my tits." Lucy explained. "Then when I again had a prick up my bum and one in my cunt, Cruel Man suddenly opened the bedroom door and caught one of the houseboys peeping through the keyhole. "So boy, you thought you'd like to see what we get up did you?" Cruel Man dragged the boy into the room. "Well instead of peeping you can take part and add to our amusement too, if your master will allow it of course." Mr. Cant was angry too at what the boy, whose name was Roy, had done and done deliberately in defiance of his orders. I think he guessed Cruel Man would come up with a suitable punishment for the boy so he told him to carry on.

"Get all those clothes of boy," Cruel Man ordered, "You can't be the only one dressed." The boy looked very afraid and shook and blushed as he undressed with all of us watching. He was only about sixteen and his prick was already hard from his watching us. "Release the old woman," was the next order and ma was untied from the chair but her tits were still bound up.

Marion took up the story. "They gave me a few minutes to rub my wrists and ankles where they'd been bound and then I had to lie on the bed in Lucy's place. "Get on top of her boy," Cruel Man ordered and when he was in a position he could fuck me, they tied his wrists and ankles to the head and foot of the bed with the ropes that had bound me to the chair. "Put his prick in her cunt, Lucy," Cruel Man instructed and when he was inside me, Cruel Man lashed that cane really hard across the poor boy's arse. "Now fuck her," the man shouted above the screams from the boy. He lashed him again and again until the boy collapsed on top of me and Mr. Cant took the cane. "That's more than enough, Jacob," he said and threw the cane into a corner. I held Roy, who was crying and sobbing hysterically, and saw Mr. Cant go and ring for a servant. A girl came to the door and didn't seem unduly shocked by Mr. Cant being naked and I'm sure she could see others naked too and hear the boy's screaming. "Get Mary and come back as quick as you can," the girl was ordered.

A few moments later Mary knocked and came into the room. When she heard Roy yelling and crying out and saw his arse she cried out, "Oh God Roy, what have they done to you?" She was in tears as she came across the room and looked with horror on Roy's arse. "Why sir? Why?" she asked Mr. Cant but he only said in quite a kindly way, "Take him to your bed Mary and look after him. He can sleep with you for the time being. I know you plan to marry soon." I saw two men undoing the ropes that held Roy and they helped him stand but the pain seemed to cause his legs to buckle. Mary and the other maids helped him from the room.

Although Lucy and I were fucked several more times before we left in the morning, the fun seemed to have gone out of it for the men and before we left I did hear Mr. Cant say to one of the others that Cruel Man wouldn't be invited again."

"What happened to Roy?" I asked forgetting that it was a direct question but it was fairly straightforward to answer. Lucy took up the story.

"I met Mary in the village about two months later and she had a little time to spare waiting for an order to be made up so I sat on the seat outside the shop and asked her if Roy had recovered. "He still has the marks and walks a bit stiff but he's otherwise okay. We're getting married in two weeks because I'm in a family way, probably as a result of the beating he had." I was puzzled over the connection and questioned her about it. "Well you heard Mr. Cant tell me to take him to my bed, well I did. We all thought it a bit strange because I slept in a room with two other girls but we think now it was so Roy wouldn't go complaining to the constables about his treatment. Not that it would have done any good. Anyways, I laid him on my bed and did what I could to ease his pain but that was little enough. The other girls helped where they could. Later I lay beside him and tried to keep the blankets off his arse with my body. Nothing was said about Roy going back to sleep in his own bed so he continued to sleep in mine although it was a bit cramped. At first the other girls were a bit shy of undressing and washing in front of him but after a week or so, they ignored him and they watched him dress and made comments on the state of his prick after he fucked me. Of course the inevitable happened when he became well enough to move himself a little better. We'd done it before but always he was careful but in bed together, well we just let it happen knowing we planned to wed. The first few times we heard the other two girls giggle at the sounds we made but they soon came to ignore it and now we do it openly in front of them. Mr. Cant never said anything about the caning but he did let Roy off work for several days and then only had him do light work." By then her order was ready and she took it and left."

Fred and I had been gently stroking our pricks while the two ladies were telling their story and I noticed that Rose had her hand at her crotch. "Perhaps you ought to pay us for entertaining you," Marion commented.

[That's enough for this blog. I will type in the remainder for you for a future blog. Derek]

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 18. The Slave Auction

15th December 2004

First the family news.

Sorry it is two weeks since the last blog. I spent last Wednesday evening erecting bookshelves in the spare room ready for when it becomes Sarah's workroom. Sarah has definitely decided to move in with me next weekend and we've been busy packing a lot of her stuff into boxes and transferring them to the guestroom at my place. I will hire a van to move the larger stuff later. Of course, Mother still doesn't really approve, but she and Sarah talk to each other now on more or less equal terms without the frostiness of a few months ago. Mother actually seems a lot happier and she is making friends with others at the store. With Christmas almost upon us, she is having to work harder too especially as the store is having a pre-Christmas sale. We had her and dad over for a meal last Sunday and when I listened in to her thoughts, none were concerned with the bridge club so hopefully that episode of her life is in the past. Dad seemed happier too and at one point when I tuned in to his thoughts, he was planning giving mother a spanking at bedtime for being a bit sharp with Sarah over something that was quite trivial. Seemed to me he was just looking for an excuse to bare her bottom. At least he seems to be the one in control now.

Jean is disappointed in not being able to move into her new house in time for Christmas. Still problems with the heating system but we've invited her to stay over here for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I know we'll still be in a muddle and Jean being Jean just laughs about it and has offered to help us sort things out. We didn't want her to be alone on those two days and no workmen will work on her house until after the New Year. She'll pay a firm of removers to move her stuff but Sarah and I have promised to help her sort things out when that happens.

Kathleen McCogan surprised us by spending a night with Prof. Rowlandson last weekend. I knew that their relationship had returned to near normal but I hadn't expected her to go back to having sex with him. However, from what I read of their thoughts, it seems that Kathy kept in full charge of the situation and enjoyed several good fucks. "He does do it well and makes me orgasm so powerfully that it seemed worth taking the risk," she told me when we had coffee together one morning.

My own work is going well and the ring is proving to be both a help and a distraction. It was a help when I listened in to a discussion between members of a neighbouring lab on their project and found some of their ideas and techniques could be incorporated into my own. It's not that each lab works on secret projects, it's more that we work in isolation from one another and only mix on semi-social occasions or if we meet in the cafeteria. The distraction comes when I listen in to the sexual thoughts and doings of the students and staff, particularly the female ones. I now know more of the gossip of who is sleeping with whom and the sex preferences and drug habits of the students than I should but sometimes a titillating story comes out. One such occurred on Monday lunchtime.

My experiment didn't end until well into the lunchtime period and the cafeteria was packed but fortunately a corner table cleared when I was close by with my tray. I sat down and for a few moments had the table to myself. Not for long though. A girl student paused by the empty seat and asked, "Is this seat free?" I guessed she was a first year student about nineteen years old and by the look of her, she was, or at least had been, high of one of the recreational drugs. Her eyes had that glazed, faraway look and her actions a little slower than normal. "Yes, it's all yours now," I replied. My smile was not returned. <<He's a bit old for a student, perhaps one of the professors. Why is the stupid bugger grinning at me? Wonder if he'll bid at the slave auction?">> "Slave auction?" I wonder what that was all about? I quietly turned the ring on to the inside of my hand so as to shield it from some of the background thoughts that came through. As soon as she sat down, the girl ferreted in her purse and put a mobile phone on the table and unfolded an A5 sheet of paper and silently read,

<< "For selected participants only

Christmas Private Slave Auction

to be held in the cellar room of St. James Hall

on Friday 17th December 2004 at 8 p.m. ">>

Rightly guessing that I ought to make notes I opened my briefcase and took out a pad and pen and put a textbook on the table alongside my plate. It was not at all unusual to see students working and eating at the same time so my actions only disturbed her thoughts for a few minutes and then she began to read again.

<< All funds in aid of Cancer Research

I ………………………… agree to allow myself to be sold into slavery from the time the auction is completed until 5 p.m. on Sunday 19th December.

I agree to be a full slave/no sex slave to whoever places the highest bid.

"I'll definitely cross out the no sex bit. What's the point in being a slave if you don't have to give your body to a man? I could do with a good fuck or two or three and all the buyers are supposed to be vetted."

In true slave tradition, participants will be paraded in front of the buyers. All slaves will wear a collar and have their wrists bound. Full slaves will wear a thong or other small type panty and a pair of light shoes only. No sex slaves should be more modestly attired.

Safeguards.

The purchaser must give his/her full name, address and contact phone number.

The purchaser must agree to do no permanent harm or sadistically chastise the slave.

The slave must take a mobile phone with her and arrange for a friend to call at irregular intervals to see if she/he is okay. The purchaser must allow these phone calls.

The purchaser of a 'no sex slave' must not attempt to have sex with her.

A full sex slave should have contraception and may request that condoms be used at all times.

Slaves should bring with them a small suitcase containing suitable attire and toiletries for the weekend.

We wish all participants an enjoyable weekend.

The girl, I found later her name was Jane, read the form several times and then sat back in her chair, nibbled at her roll and fantasised at what might happen to her. I'd already found out that women fantasise about sexual things at least as much as men do and a good many imagine themselves to be true slaves of wicked men who whip and rape them unmercifully. It is only fantasy and they would be severely traumatised if it happened in reality. Such, I am sure was the case with Jane and with her too, probably whatever drug she had taken, heightened the imagery of the fantasy. Had she been treated like in her imagination she would have ended up in hospital. Still nibbling sparrow-sized bites from her roll, she sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. The images I received as she looked in the mirror of the dressing room was of a woman with Jane's face but with considerably more bust and showing a nest of pubic hair peeping from the sides of her thong. Again I have put her thoughts and mind pictures into a readable narrative for your enjoyment. Remember these are thought images, not reality. They only happened in her mind.

<<"Okay ladies, time to get these collars on and tie your wrists together. You're all slaves now, you had your chance to leave earlier." A fat man in pseudo-Turkish eunuch style dress with a whip hanging from his belt, entered the dressing room followed by a younger lad carrying the collars and a bag of ropes. The first girl complained the collar was too tight but the eunuch man just said, "You'll get used to it." The girl next in line to Jane decided to quit and made for the door but it was locked and fat man held her while the boy tied her wrists and put her collar on extra tight. Tears ran down the girl's face and it was obvious she regretted her decision to participate.

"No point in resisting," Jane said to herself as fat man collared and bound her, "I volunteered for this and being helpless is all part of it. Fat man is no eunuch though, I can feel his prick touching my arse." The six full slaves, now linked by their collars, were led out of the room and into the spotlights on a stage. Jane tried to look into the audience but the lights blinded her and she was forced to look down at her full breasts and her nipples that had grown hard. The end girl on the line was unleashed from the rest and taken to the front of the stage and made to turn round and show her 'charms'. Then the auctioneer started the bidding and it got up to £190 before it ceased. "Not the richest crowd in here," Jane commented. The next one was sold for £210 and then it was Jane's turn. From the front of the stage she could see the audience a little better and noticed one of her professors but most of the others seemed to be students or mature students, which probably accounted for the low prices. "I hope bloody Professor Golding doesn't buy me. He's good looking enough but he's never nice to me and always marks my work down. I don't like him much and I don't think he likes me." She hadn't taken too much notice of the auctioneer's patter with the other girls but now she did.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Jane. A gorgeous woman as you can see. Just look at these tits," He hefted her breasts, "And those lovely legs with the delightful cavity between them. All yours for the weekend if you can afford her. Can I start the bidding at £150?" It steadily rose and to Jane's horror, it was the professor that kept raising the bids with great determination. Inevitably when bidding against students his bid won.

"This used to be the old rectory, slave" Richard Golding told Jane as his car pulled into the circular driveway. Jane was apprehensive as the place stood in darkness a little away from the other houses in the village and in the shadow of a nearby main road with constant traffic. "Plenty of room and even a cellar to treat you like a slave should be treated. I hope Cancer Research appreciate what you are going to go through to earn them a little money." Inside the house Golding removed the overcoat Jane had worn to cover herself for the journey and squeezed her tits quite hard. Jane whimpered with the pain although it was bearable. Golding hung up his outside clothes and led her into the lounge. "I bought you because you've been a pain in the my arse for the whole of this term. You've been insolent and lazy and I see it as a chance to get my own back and perhaps thrash some sense into you," he informed her. Shock registered on Jane's face. She knew she wasn't the best of students but didn't feel she was as bad as Golding made out and started to protest but he ignored it and went on. "So here's the scenario for the weekend, "This is an eighteenth century plantation and I am the master so you will always call me, Sir. That shouldn't be too difficult as you are used to calling your teachers sir. You are a newly purchased house slave and for this weekend you will do the housework and I will provide a simple slave dress for you. It will cover a little of your body but you will be completely naked underneath as befits a slave. In addition I will fuck you as often as I can and I will punish you for any failure to obey my orders. You may think the punishments harsh by modern standards but in the eighteenth century period they would have been relatively mild. Do you understand?"

Jane looked around wondering if there was any hope of escape. It seemed as if this was going to be far, far worse than she anticipated. Until Golding had bought her, she'd expected to have sex and more sex with perhaps a spanking thrown in but the scenario he outlined seemed much more brutal. "I asked if you understood!" Golding snapped. Seeing no way out and with her wrists still bound and near naked she wouldn't get far. "Yes…yes…Sir," she stuttered. "Good," Golding muttered, "Now we can get started. First I'm going to remove that scrap of material that covers you cunt. No doubt you expected that and then to ensure that you don't decide to run away, I'll put ankle cuffs on you with a length of chain between them." "Oh no!" Jane sounded upset at the thought of being restricted in how she could walk. "Oh yes," Golding grinned, "And expect extra punishment for answering back." Quickly he removed the thong and hobbled Jane and then undid her wrist ties and replaced them with plastic cuffs similar to those around her ankles but he didn't fasten them together. "Undress me slave," he ordered.>>

The images in Jane's mind showed a big man with the start of a paunch and with an overly large prick. It stood erect and hard and she looked with awe at its size and didn't believe it would ever go inside her.

<<"Pour me a whiskey and soda and then bring that leather paddle on the seat over there." Jane did so looking with great concern at the paddle. The perforated end flap was about five inches by three and the shaft some eighteen inches long. "God this thing is going to hurt! The bugger is going to get his own back on me. I should have been nicer to him in class," Jane muttered to herself. Golding gloated as he half heard the words and said with some satisfaction, "Now suck me off. Don't spit anything out and do it good and deeply, if not you will feel the paddle on your arse. I want to take the edge of my coming so when I fuck you, I can do it for longer." Sitting comfortable on the settee he spread his legs in readiness. Hardly had poor Jane wrapped her lips around the end of his oversize prick when Golding leaned forward over her head and, WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! The paddle hit swiftly and smartly twice on each of her arse cheeks. Tears sprang to her eyes and Jane cried out in surprise and pain. "Put some effort into it slave. You're not doing your coursework now!" Jane did and was rewarded with a mouthful of spunk a minute or two later. He made her keep his softened prick in her mouth until he'd finished his whiskey.

"Put your shoes on slave and I'll take you on a tour of the facilities that I have arranged for you. I fully expected to be able to buy your services so I prepared things in advance." Golding put on a dressing gown and led her along a corridor. "See this doorway? It has four strong hooks, one at each corner of the frame. If you misbehave badly, or if I feel like it, you'll be strung up to them and thrashed front and back with the flogger. It won't permanently damage you but the whip marks will show for a week or two and be painful for just as long. And if you wish to continue at the university, don't think of complaining that I whipped you sadistically." A little further on through the doorway, stairs descended to the cellar. Jane hesitated fearing what was down there. WHAP! WHAP! The paddle urged her down. On a table, neatly laid out, were various whips, belts and canes. "I bought a selection of instruments to punish you with but I don't expect to use them all this weekend. Maybe another time, perhaps when you offer me your body to get yourself a passing grade."

The sight almost made Jane sick and the thought of coming back appalled her. Her body shook with fear but she said nothing and just prayed the weekend would end quickly or that the phone would save her. "This bench is a punishment bench. I can fasten you on it either way up and whip you without you moving out of the way and down here, any screams will not be heard. Not that they are likely to be heard from upstairs either, what with our being away from the rest of the village and the noise of the main road traffic."

Golding picked up a suede flogger and showed it to Jane who immediately flinched and pleaded with him not to use it on her. "I didn't volunteer to be whipped with a thing like that," she whimpered, "I only thought I'd get fucked and perhaps spanked a bit." "Then you thought wrong girl. I am looking forward to using this. It is supposed to hurt the tender parts of your anatomy without damaging them. It will be nice to see your tits criss-crossed with stripes from this." He flicked the flogger in front of her without landing it. "But it's getting late now, so bedtime. Time enough to play with these in the morning but I will take this with me just in case you are reluctant to obey me in the night. You can get me hard enough now so we'll have a good fuck before sleep."

While they performed in the bathroom. Jane eyed his prick again. It wasn't yet fully hard but it was so much bigger than any she'd had before that she feared his entry into her would be painful. She knew he wouldn't spare her or take it easy and wondered if she dare ask for some lubrication or even if a condom would help. Golding had no such thoughts. The more painful it was for this student the better. "Don't even think of asking for a condom, slave. I'm fucking you bareback and if you're not on the pill that is your misfortune. I want to feel my sperm flood your inside, not a rubber teat. Now on the bed with you, legs up by your ears. Any nonsense and your cunt will get the first feel of the flogger. Jane tried to hold back her tears in case they upset the man further and did as he requested. Feeling the head of his prick at her entrance she tried to relax her vaginal muscles but impatiently Golding forced his way painfully in. Fortunately both of their juices had started to flow so he was able to fuck her without too much trouble. If the tightness of her vagina hurt him at all, he showed no sign of it. The reverse was not true. For Jane the fuck proved very painful at least until the first load of spunk lubricated the channel, then it became bearable but that lasted only a short time. "That was a barely passable fuck slave. You'd better work harder on it in the morning," Golding's commented before chaining Jane's ankles to the bottom rail of the iron bedstead and going to sleep.

Jane's next recollection was of her ankle chains being removed. "Get on your hands and knees slave," Golding ordered, "I want to fuck you doggie style." It was still painful but much easier than the previous evening but again Golding didn't worry about her satisfaction. He just fucked for his own enjoyment and spurted his load when he was ready. "Now piss if you have to then get into the kitchen and cook me two eggs, bacon, two sausages and toast. You can have cereals. Be quick about it." Jane fumed about the professor while she tried to cook his meal. She rarely had breakfast so cooking one was not amongst her better accomplishments. She'd only a microwave over in her room. The half-burnt, half-raw breakfast she brought to his bedroom she knew would not please him.

"I'm sorry Sir," she started, "I'm not a very good cook."

"Thank much is obvious slave," Golding said coldly, "Put this mess in the bin." He followed her to the kitchen and as soon as she put the plate down, he grabbed her wrists and fastened the cuffs together. "Seems like you are asking to make the acquaintance of the flogger." Ignoring her pleading and crying, he dragged Jane to the doorway where she struggled with all the strength she could muster but hampered by the cuffed wrists and her hobble she was unable to prevent Golding from fastening her spread-eagled to the four hooks. "Very well bitch slave, this is one reason I paid so much for you. He swung the flogger so it lashed across the tops of her thighs. Jane screamed at the top of her voice, saying she wished to be released from her slavery. He was going far beyond what was allowed but Golding continued to whip the front of her body and gradually worked his way up until he reached her breasts. The pain was almost overwhelming but she remained conscious. "Now to tenderise those tits you've been flaunting," grinned Golding as he swung the flogger back and forth across them. Finally Jane's head slumped…>>

"Do-la-le do-do." The musical notes of Jane's mobile phone on the table interrupted her musing and she looked up at me and then answered it. Shortly after she left the table so I never found out what she might have imagined happened for the rest of the weekend. Fortunately it was all in her imagination and none of it was reality. I did check the listing for Professor Golding on the staff records database and the photo showed him to be much as Jane pictured but of course it didn't show his prick and I wouldn't mind betting that she had never seen it. However, I did find out that he was married with two children and they lived in a semidetached house in the suburbs of Dunchester. Not a bachelor living in a quiet rectory with a cellar.

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 19. Jack and Rosie's stories

22nd December 2004

Sarah moved in as planned last weekend but there are still many boxes to unpack. Jean and my student helped and it all went relatively smoothly. We left some of the bigger items but I doubt if Sarah will ever go and live back there. As we planned, she will keep the flat on until the end of February and then, unless anything untoward happens between us, she will give it up. Some of her furniture is of better quality than mine so we'll do some exchanging but that can wait until the New Year.

With Sarah here all the time, I may have to discontinue these blogs or at least post them at less regular intervals, and the ring is perhaps the one real secret that I keep from her. I would not wish her to come in and read what I have written while it is still on the screen. Once the file is saved it is password protected and hidden so it is safe from her eyes. Tonight Maggie from the bakery and her are going to a show which they booked up months ago so I can do this blog without too much worry, except that I should be unpacking some more of her stuff. So, I'd better get on and type in the last of Joshua Matlocks book. We left him in the Angel swapping stories of sexual exploits with a few companions on a bleak evening.

Jack apologised before starting his tale. "I'm sorry folks but my experiences have not been as gruesome or as titillating as yours. In fact I've been faithful to my Martha since we were married nigh on forty years ago. We always do it in the normal sort of way so there'll be nothing of interest to you there. However my first fuck was a little different and for me it was very exciting.

When I was a lad of fourteen I used to earn a few pennies by running errands and doing a few jobs for a Mrs. Meyhew on a Saturday. She's long since dead so there's no harm in telling the tale. Her hubby was a sailor and away for long weeks at a time so she needed someone to do the garden and get her groceries and stuff like that. Well I heard of a job over in Dunchester and a mate of mine arranged for me to see the master on a Saturday morning. As you know, Dunchester is nearly a three hours walk from here and I couldn't rely on getting a lift with a carter so I went to Mrs. Meyhew on the Friday morning before to see if I could do her jobs that day. As usual I went in the back door, took my boots off in the entrance so as not to make a mess on her floor, and went inside. I could hear groaning from upstairs and, thinking she might be unwell, I went to see. Her bedroom door was half-open and I could easily see why she was groaning. Bob Dickens was fucking her. From the way they were facing I knew they couldn't see me so I stood and watched and of course got a hard on. When Bob finished they lay together with him sucking her tits until there was a knock on the front door. "It's only Williams," Mrs. Meyhew said, "I'm not always in when he calls and then he comes back later. He'll go away shortly."

"I'd better go too as soon as he's out of sight," Bob muttered and pulled on his breeches. I panicked a bit and quickly slipped downstairs and hid behind the scullery door, thinking myself lucky I didn't have my hob-nailed boots on. A few minutes later Bob left and I thought that it would soon be safe for me to creep out too. However before I could Mrs. Meyhew came into the scullery with a bowl and went to the pump. She was still naked so I expected the water would be to wash the mess off her legs. My heart thumped so loud I thought she would hear and I hoped and prayed that she would just turn back the same way as she came and take it back to the bedroom. That way there was a chance she wouldn't see me. Luck was against me. She turned and went to a cupboard, she shrieked when she saw me and split water on the floor. I went to get out but she stopped me and said, "You just stay where you are Jack Filby. I don't know what you are doing in my house today but I'll tan your arse until I find out."

I was a pretty cheeky lad in those days…"

"You still are," laughed Rose.

"As I was saying I was a pretty cheeky lad then so I stood my ground and stared at her body. "No you won't Mrs. Meyhew, not unless you want Mrs. Dickens to know what you and her husband get up to. Perhaps it should be me that tans your arse."

"By the look of your breeches, you'd want to do more than spank me," Mrs. Meyhew observed, "Maybe I can help with that."

"Perhaps you're right," I said sensing I might have a chance of getting my first fuck. I was right. Mrs. Meyhew gave me a smile and led me back upstairs and made me undress in front of her. She was a big woman and although I thought I had the upper hand, I was still a little afeared of her.

"Come on then boy," she said when I was a bit embarrassed to show my prick. As soon as I was undressed she grabbed it and pulled me to her and gave it a quick suck. "You fucked a girl before Jack?" she asked. I shook my head and she told me what to do. I came in no time at all but she kept me alongside her and played with my prick and let me suck her tits until I got hard enough to do it again and this time I took much longer and enjoyed the experience. I never did tan her arse but I didn't tell on her either.

As I said that's not much of a story compared with yours but that's the best I can do."

I hadn't needed the power of the ring to get Jack to talk and I wondered if Rose would be the same. We made up the fire and got in another round of drinks. "Your turn now," Marion said to Rose.

"Like Fred, I've not much or real interest to tell. I've had a lot more men than he seems to have had women, but it's all been plain fucking. Just different size men and different size pricks. <<"I really can't tell them about the dwarf. He was a disgusting creature. The circus should have kept him in a cage like the animals.">>

"I'm sure there was someone that wanted something different or a bit odd," Marion went on.

"I don't do it every day for a living," Rose snapped back.

I didn't want the evening to degenerate into a battle of bitter words between the ladies so I interrupted them. Intrigued by Rose's thoughts on the dwarf, I took a chance. "Rose, some time ago one of the regulars mentioned you had entertained a dwarf." That was a lie but she wouldn't know that. "I wondered if it was true that their pricks different to normal Would you tell us please? I've only seen a couple of dwarves and they were fully dressed." <<How did he know of that? I don't remember telling anyone. Perhaps I can just tell them a little about it.>> Rose looked very puzzled but I knew that it was impossible for her to keep it a secret and guessed there might be a salacious story for us to enjoy.

Her face clouded and her eyes had that faraway look that I knew well. Mechanically she began her tale. "It was a little before you came to this village Joshua. A circus came here bringing all their weird animals in cages and the clowns and jugglers. They all paraded through the village and at the rear was this little man who was hardly up to my belly button in height. Of course he was laughed at and on the parade he just smiled but it was later that I found out how much he resented it and it made him bitter and callous.

Later that evening they all came to the inn and gave free tickets to the master but as I was only a lowly maid then, I didn't get one and I couldn't afford to go. The circus was on the following day and the one after. I was kept busy serving them and the people from the village that came to see them. They were one-night celebrities and were only in a small place like this because the field they'd booked in Dunchester was flooded. The clowns and the ringmaster were all jolly folk and kept everyone laughing. The dwarf who they called 'Rondo' just sat there quietly supping his ale and only spoke to me to demand a high stool so he could see above the table. At that time he just seemed a bit sad and I felt a bit sorry for him but most of my time was spent seeing to the clowns and parrying their hands from under my dress. "Are you coming to see us?" one of the clowns asked. I shook my head no and said I didn't have the money. "We've already given out the free tickets otherwise you'd be welcome to one. Only Rondo has kept his and he'll want a night in your bed for that."

"It'll cost him more than the price of a ticket," I said, knowing the price I usually charged for a whole night was far more than that. In the end with a lot of good-natured banter from the clowns and scowling from Rondo, he agreed to a ticket and three florins. He didn't like the fact that I made him pay in advance and gave the ticket and the money to the mistress for safekeeping. I had a nasty feeling that he might want to do the dirty on me.

As soon as I finished I took him to my room in the attic. That was another thing that didn't please him; all the stairs. His short legs made stepping up a climbing job and he complained all the way but I grinned and offered to carry him like a baby but he wasn't having that. "I may be small but I'm not a child," he shouted at me. He was better off in my room because of the low ceilings. I had to duck under the beams whereas he could walk with plenty of room to spare. "Undress," he ordered and I did, after all that is what he was paying for. He did too and I saw him naked.

You asked whether the old saying was true. I guess you meant, 'Big man, small prick; small man, all prick'. Well I'm sure the ladies will agree that the first part is false. Some big men do have tiny pricks but many have a prong in proportion to their size. As for the small men bit, well I only have experience of Rondo and he certainly lived up to the saying. I'd never seen anything as big at that time and only a few times since. He took great delight in tormenting me with what he was going to do to me with it and proceeded to show me how he could actually suck himself off. I've known a few lithe men who could get their mouths close enough to their prick head to lick it but Rondo could easily take the whole head inside his mouth. This was of course partly because of his short body but also because of the length of his shaft.

I backed away from him, half-afraid that weapon would hurt me but he growled, "I've paid for the whole night and I'm going to fuck you the whole night. You can't even say that you'll give me the money back because the mistress has it and she's abed by now. I'm going to have what I paid for and if you try and get out of it I'll tan your arse good and hard." His voice had a nasty edge to it so I took him to my bed and lay down ready for him. He climbed on top and it was then that I realised just how strong he was. He'd used his arm muscles to help himself get around since he was a child and they'd developed abnormally. He easily held me down and then rammed his prick inside me without any thought for the pain he was causing. Or rather, from what he said, he did it deliberately to cause me pain. "You laughed at me just like the others, now I get my own back." At that time I'd not had all that many men and only took a few of those I liked to bed to earn a few extra pennies and make my wages go a bit further. Rondo's prick forced me open and it hit my womb or whatever it is at the bottom of my cunt at every stroke. I cried out and he laughed loudly.

Whether or not he could control himself better than most men or whether he naturally took a long while to spurt, I know not but it seemed ages before he finally shot his stuff in me. I hoped that would be the end for a while although if he was like most men, I'd have to take in twice more before morning. My cunt felt terribly sore and chafed. That little bastard had other ideas. "Sit up and play with your tits," he said. I did and while he watched he put his prick, which hadn't gone completely soft, in his mouth and sucked and rubbed it hard again. It was a gruesome sight. Him sitting in front of me, prick head in his mouth and his right hand wanking his shaft. It didn't take long before he was hard again. When I protested I was too sore to take in a second time so soon after, he pulled me face down on the bed and walloped me good and hard with his hand. Up in the attic with my head pushed into the mattress, my cries wouldn't be heard and I knew I should have allowed him to fuck me without protesting. He was going to do it anyway and I would have saved myself the hiding. Finally the beating stopped and he lifted my arse and forced his way in again from the back. The spunk inside helped to lubricate me a little but the whole fuck was again painful and I was sobbing before he finished.

This time when he pulled out he gripped my tender arse cheeks and pushed his stubbly bearded face into my cunt and started licking. At least that was a little more pleasant and I started to get aroused but the rotten bastard stopped before I had any satisfaction. He then offered his prick to my lips and not wanting another beating I sucked it for a while until he wanted to get under the bedclothes with me. We covered up and he sucked and bit my tits for a while before he finally went to sleep. I lay there for a while wondering if I could escape but I had the wall on my side of the bed and he still had an arm around me from when he was suckling. I fell asleep too only to be wakened while it was still dark. The nightlight was still flickering and the air seemed cold. "Get your arse up again," he hissed at me. I wondered if I could plead with him without earning another spanking but I couldn't think of any words that would do it so I got on my knees and prepared myself for the worst. It was worse than I expected. He wanted my arsehole.

First he wetted his prick in my cunt and then tried time and time again to force it into my bum but I just couldn't open it enough to get his prick in. The pain was pretty horrendous and I cried out loudly but in the end he had to admit defeat and fucked my cunt again. Having spent twice already and seemingly always taking a long while to spend, this time he seemed to take an hour although it may have been shorter in reality. He didn't withdraw from me either but left it in, still not really soft and he dozed off again.

Light was beginning to show through my small window when he gripped and twisted my tits. I screamed and was immediately awake. I prayed this would be the last time and dutifully lay on my back. Once more he forced his way in without any regard to my body. By now I was so sore and sensitive that I couldn't help but scream as he plunged into me. He just kept laughing at my suffering and when he finally finished, growled that he was going to spank me again because I didn't take it in the bum. I yelled and screamed, No, and tried to get away, but he held me tight. He'd laid on about half a dozen slaps when a voice from the door said quietly, "That's enough Rondo. Let the girl go." The doorway framed the stooping form of the circus strong man. "You've kept us awake half the night and by the looks of things, you've hurt her pretty badly. You've had your money's worth now get dressed and go back to your caravan." Grumbling Rondo did as he was told. Luckily for me the strong man had booked Clary, one of the other maids, for the night. He called her in to tend to me and helped hold me while she bathed my sorest places. I never did get to see the circus. I was far too sore to sit on a hard board for any length of time."

Rose shook her head as if waking from a dream and looked at us with some concern. I praised her for the tale and gave her a hug. By then it was time to leave and I collected my rum, paid the tab for all our drinks and made my way home to Beatie.

As I said at the beginning, this blog will be the last at least for a while unless circumstances change here and I get some private time on the computer when I know I will be alone in the house. How much more the ring will change my life and what other tales I listen in to, remains to be seen. Already the ring has made a great difference to my life and I can only thank my mother for volunteering me to help Jean clear old Miss Read's house.

My regards to all whom have taken the time and trouble to read these blogs,

Dr. Derek Meeks

Ring of Truth

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF MM FF NC. Spanking WS

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Prologue

Dr. Derek Meeks.

Blog 20. Jane's dream

Friday 28th January 2005

This evening I took Sarah to the home of Jackie Tomlinson and Terry Hunter a couple of miles the other side of campus. Jackie works in admin and Terry teaches humanities. They've been living together for a couple of years and have decided to get married. Sarah's fame as a wedding dress maker seems to have spread further than we thought and when I had to pop into see the secretary, Jackie waylaid me to ask if Sarah would do her a dress. Of course it is not just a dress for her, but also for the two bridesmaids. The outcome was tonight's meeting which I guess will take several hours. She'll phone when she wants me to pick her up so I have an evening on my own in the house and can write another of these blogs. I've had this one in my mind for a several days after listening in to the thoughts of a young girl as she read and re-read a pop concert programme.

I had to go into work last Sunday week to start some cultures. I went in early so my day off wouldn't be completely wasted. When the first stage was completed it was still only eight o'clock so I decided to walk to the faculty staff room to make a coffee and write up a few notes during the hour I needed to wait before I could finish setting up the culture. I don't know who was the most surprised, the girl or me. She lounged in one of the big easy chairs and looked startled when I went in. <<"Who is he? Mum said no one would be in here today. Not too bad looking, not all that old either. Is he one of the professors?">>

"Hi," I interrupted her thoughts, "It's okay, I presume you're here with one of the staff."

"Mum's cleaning upstairs," she answered. <<"I'd better leave.">>

"Don't let me disturb you, I'm only here to write up some notes and make a coffee. I'll make you one too if you want one." She shook her head no, and glanced a little nervously at me when I went to a table across the way from her. "I guess you went to the concert last night." I remarked as I pulled the chair out.

"Yeah. Were you as well?"

"No, not my kind of music. Classical is more to my liking," I replied.

"Yuck!" She settled back in the chair. I kept an eye on her while I arranged my papers. I guessed she was about fourteen and developing nicely although wearing baggy jeans and a bulky sweater concealed most of her form. Her face held my attention for a short while. It was small and roundish, and she wore purple framed, oval spectacles, which made her look more mature than I felt she was. Her long brown hair hung down in front of her left shoulder to below the level of her breasts and it had a nice, freshly brushed, sheen. I didn't dare to stare for long and settled down to work.

My notes didn't take many minutes and soon I tuned into her thoughts. At first they'd been about me and she debated whether or not to leave and find her mother but she knew that wouldn't be easy with the security doors. I flipped open my laptop and almost hid behind the screen. Just in case she decided to come and look at what I was doing, I brought up the ulcer pictures that so disgusted the boy on my hotel stay a month or two ago. I also opened a Word document and started making notes on her thoughts. Gradually Jane, (I have changed her a name), became more and more engrossed in the programme she was reading, or more truthfully, she was looking at the pictures and remembering the concert held on campus the previous evening. I've become almost blasé concerning the dirty thoughts of many otherwise seemingly prim and proper women but the those of this young girl, by her own admission still a virgin, shocked me.

The mental image Jane projected from the photo she was staring at, was of Ricky Knottshall, the lead singer of a heavy rock band. <<"Shit he really is sexy, and the way he moved last night really was suggestive. Made me feel that he was ready to fuck us all. God he's gorgeous. I love his long black hair, and just look at those chest muscles! I don't think he ever does his shirt up. Wonder if that bulge in his crotch is really his prick. I've heard some men put padding in their pants to make it seem like they've bigger cocks than they have. I believe Ricky's is real. Giggle. You could almost make out the form in the lights last night especially with his trousers being so tight. Wonder what it is like. Bet it's huge. Pity mum had to bring me here this morning. In bed I could have played with myself. Stupid cow! She didn't want to leave me alone in the house and yet she leaves me alone in this place with that professor git. She'll be done upstairs shortly and then it'll be another hour before she's done this floor's corridors. Wish Ricky would come in and take me out to his tour bus but he's well away by now.">>

She turned the page to another picture of Ricky and a couple of others from the group alongside their bus and surrounded by a host of teenage girls. <<"I bet they'd all go to bed with him, given half a chance. I guess I would too. The git doesn't seem to be taking any notice of me. Wonder what he's typing? Think I'll curl up in this chair and try and sleep a bit more. Never slept too well last night after all the excitement of the concert. And then bloody mum has to wake me at some shitty godforsaken hour and bring me here. Better slip my trainers off first in case the git objects.">> I heard rather than saw, her shoes softly hit the floor and then she curled up in a foetal position with the programme in her view on the arm of the chair. <<"Umm, these professors have nice comfy chairs in their room. Wonder what would have happened if I had slipped on to the tour bus and spent the night with Ricky and Donavan and Clyde. Bet some of those groupie girls did. Bet they got well and truly fucked. I know the bus is equipped with every convenience and they employ a driver so they can get a bit of rest between gigs. Those groupie girls won't let them rest too much though. I wonder…">>

The scene in her mind changed to the group signing autographs outside the bus. <<"I wonder if I can sneak on while they're not looking? The door's half-open and no one seems to be looking I'm going to risk it. Made it! Better hide. Where? The bog? This looks like it. Very posh. I'll sit on the seat until they get going. Just think, Ricky's had his bare arse on this seat. I wonder if he's wanked himself off in here? Don't expect so, not when he has all those groupie girls to service him. Hope I can do that for him tonight. Will Donavan and Clyde expect to have me too? No, there'll be other girls with them. Oooh, we're moving. Better sit tight until one of them comes in for a piss. It's only about twenty minutes to the motorway and then they won't want to turn back…God, someone had better come soon, it seems ages since we started. I can hear them talking. No girl's voices though. Wonder why? Footsteps on the stairs. Wish I could stop shaking.">>

<<"Hey boys we've got a stowaway! Nice young little bitch." Donavan called out to the others. "Well get yourself off the seat girl unless you want me to piss all over you.">> I received images of Donavan grabbing her arm as she tried to leave and of her being forced to watch as he pulled out his prick and started to pee. <<"Hold it for me… What's your name girl?">>

<<"Jane.">> The picture this time was of an over large prick as she shyly touched it and then held it.

<<"Okay, give it a shake and then we'll go into the saloon and get acquainted with the others…and you.">>

The scene changed to the saloon on the tour bus. Ricky and Clyde were lounging on the settees and like Donavan, were wearing only shorts. <<"This is Jane," Donavan announced, "Found her hiding in the loo so she must want it bad. Doesn't seem like the other sluts we've had on board. No doubt she will be once we've all had our pricks in her.">>

<<"They're going to fuck me. I wonder what that'll be like? All three of them and me still a virgin. I won't be after tonight. I bet they'll do it really hard. They have that macho image to keep up. I don't care if it does hurt. What a coup for a first timer to be fucked by all of the Mindbenders," Jane thought.>>

<<"Come on in Jane, I guess you know all of us," Ricky said. "Not bad. You don't look like a groupie though. I hope you're not some little prick tease that just wants an autograph and a cuddle. Are you?"

"I've not done it before, but I want to do it with you," Jane stuttered, "And I don't have much choice when I'm alone on this bus with you.">>

<<"Well I hope you're still willing when you've seen this." Ricky lowered his shorts to reveal a huge erect prick, "Because like you said, its going to be rammed up your tight little cunt anyway. You going to undress for us on your own or shall we tear them off you?">>

<<"I'd like for you to undress me properly Ricky and then for the others to hold me down while you do it to me first. That way I can't even try to back out.">> She stepped closer to Ricky and he pulled her sweater off and the one Clyde undid the bra clasp.

<<"Nice little tits," Ricky commented as he mauled them, "No doubt they'll get a lot bigger after you've been well fucked a few times. You are old enough?">>

"Yeah," Jane lied, "Just a slow developer.">>

Ricky now fumbled with the button on her jeans and freed them and in a short while she stood naked in front of the group who all made favourable comments on her appearance. <<"We were supposed to have a quiet night's rest before our next gig. That's why we turned the other girls off the bus but to hell with a quiet night when we've a nice young piece of cunt to fuck," Clyde remarked crudely. "Come on, Donny, help hold her down like she wanted and then Ricky can give her a good poking so we can have a turn.">> They'd obviously done this before because Ricky took the cushion off the settee and laid it on the floor and Jane was made to lie face up on it while Clyde opened her legs and Donny held her shoulders.

<<"Ready Jane?" Ricky asked.>>

<<"Do it! Fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.">> I could tell Jane was getting wet just thinking about it and she made a few wriggling movements in the big chair. I of course pretended not to notice and continued with my 'work'.

The pictures that came through to me were very vivid. Ricky showed her his rock hard prick again and then rammed it in. Jane gave a little cry both in her dream and in reality. For a second she opened her eyes and looked at me but I continued typing as if I was oblivious to what was going on. Ricky continued to plough into her without a thought that this was her first time. <<"You wanted it good and hard Jane," he said, "And that's the way you're getting it. We've no time for girls who want it done genteelly, even if they are virgins. This is something you'll remember for the rest of your life.">> Jane moved her head to one side only to come face to face with Donavan's prick. She opened her mouth to cry out but was silenced as the prick went into her mouth. He held her head so she couldn't pull away. In her dream, Jane climaxed several times before she felt Ricky flood her womb with his seed. <<"Maybe I'll have his kid," Jane thought. "That'll be something to boast about.">>

<<"My turn," Clyde grinned as he took over Ricky's place.>>
<<Jane continued to suck Donny's prick. "This feels great. There's no pain now; only sexy enjoyment; only the thrill of being fucked by the band members. It could go on forever," she said to herself.>>

"Wake up Jane. Oh sorry sir, I didn't think anyone would be in here. Hope she hasn't been disturbing you." The cleaning lady came in and rudely awakened Jane from her dream.

This is just another example of the dirty thoughts I've read in ladies minds but to me it was all the more surprising because the girl was so young and inexperienced in the ways of sex. No doubt though, if it had really happened, she would have been very traumatised and the band imprisoned.

Finis?

Ring of Truth Blog

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