The Cure

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MF MMMF NC

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

The Cure
by obohobo

Chapter 1. The Wino

"Get up! Move on! We don't want you tramps and wino's in our village." The major
kicked the heap of cardboard lying in the shelter of the pedestrian tunnel under
the main road.

The major, John Padham, still only 50 years old had retired from an eventful
life in the army, kept his title as it seemed to give him status in the village.
It was nearly 10pm and he was cycling back from a charity committee meeting
where old Mrs. Bradley had waffled on until in the end nothing had been decided.
Always wanting action, the major was not in the best of moods for his return
ride home. The fact that it was now raining and he hadn't brought his cape added
to his ill humour. He could, of course, have taken the car but by cutting
through the pedestrian tunnel, it was little more than half a mile by cycle
whereas the circuitous route to the main roundabout and back to his home was
around five miles. Being a committed environmentalist he also tried to use his
cycle on shorter journeys.

"Get up! Move yourself!" the major barked again.

"Wha a a t? L e a v e   me be." The top of a tousled head and one eye appeared
over the rim of a cardboard box.

"You can't sleep here. Get up and move on before I call the police. We don't
tolerate down and outs in this village."

Slowly the pile erupted and from it a middle aged women appeared. "My God!
What's a woman like you doing out here on a night like this?" enquired the major
in a tone that suggested disgust rather than sympathy.

"Wha aa t's it to you?" The woman reached for a bottle and took a swig of its
contents. Her slurred voice and sloppy actions indicated she had already spent
some time swigging the bottle.

"Just move. You're filthy and drunk. Lying here you'll be a menace to anyone
using the tunnel."

Muttering and moaning the woman rooted around in the card and fetched out a few
rags. It took several attempts before she could pick up her bottle and get
shakily to her feet. "I'll   go   your   way," she mumbled, "It don't make no
difference. I've got nowhere to go to."

Watching her erratic movements for a few moments, the major picked up his cycle
and followed the woman at a discrete distance. The woman looked a sorry sight. A
pathetic figure with all her possessions in a bundle of rags. He guessed she was
in her late thirties or early forties, filthy dirty and smelled of body dirt and
alcohol. How had she been reduced to this state? The major pondered the question
and then began to wonder if he could do anything about it.

Emerging from the tunnel John found that in the few minutes he had waited, the
rain had started in earnest and was now coming down heavily. The woman turned to
him and spat, "You bastard. It wasn't warm but at least it was dry in there.
'Spect you have a dry warm house to go to. I've just got to find somewhere to
lay down and hope no other sod like you comes by." She started singing a
tuneless song which gradually increased in intensity. "The whole village will
know now," thought John, "I wonder.........?" His mind returned to India. "Yes,
maybe I'll try it."

********

John lived in what had for centuries been a pub but in the early nineties, the
landlord refused to allow it to be taken over by a brewery chain and also
refused to go down the route of serving meals. He was going to keep it as a
traditional pub, a pub for drinking people. Unfortunately it wasn't what the
public wanted and eventually the liquidators moved in, closed it down and sold
it for conversion into a house. It was situated on the outskirts of the village
and a few hundred yards from the main group of houses. For one person to live
in, it was rather large but it had character and charm and a 'presence' that
John considered went with his title of 'major'. His army pension and the
dealings he had done while in the service, provided more than adequate finance
to maintain and restore the building. Early in his career John had married but
with so many of his postings being abroad to situations where he couldn't take
his wife, the marriage lasted only three years. Fortunately there were no
children.

"Woman," barked John when they reached his home, "You will spend the night
here."

"Who says I will?"

"What choice do you have? Spend this cold September night out in the rain and
get pneumonia or maybe get arrested and put in jail or spend the night in a warm
house? You will have to have a bath and get cleaned up but you will have to
empty that bottle down the drain."

"You got something better then?"

"Yes, but you will not have any alcohol while you are in the house. That's an
order. If you want to come in the house empty that bottle on to the road." There
wasn't much left so the woman thought, "What the Hell, it might be worth it for
a clean up and a night in the warm. She emptied the bottle.

John showed her into the kitchen. "Take all your clothes off and put them in the
washing machine." As a major he always gave orders expecting them to be obeyed.
His voice carried this authority to the woman. For a moment only, she hesitated
but then thinking, "Why not. He's unlikely to want to fuck with this dirty old
bag of bones." She undressed to her threadbare knickers and bra. As she did so,
John loaded her clothes in the washing machine. All of course except for her Doc
Martens boots. They too were completely wet but looked nearly new. He stuffed
the boots with newspaper and stood them alongside the AGA cooker to dry out
without loosing their shape.

"Those too, they are just as dirty as the rest and you are not going to wear
them in the bath." John took in the sight of the woman in front of him. He noted
her matted mousey coloured hair, the way her ribs showed under her full if
somewhat sagging breasts but what really caught his attention was her staring
blue eyes. At the moment they were dull and lifeless but he thought they could
well be attractive if and when she recovered from the booze. He knew he was
going to have to try.

"Upstairs to the bathroom." It was another order. She obeyed. He sat her on the
toilet and while he ran the water for the bath she relieved herself. It was the
first time for nearly a week that she hadn't just squatted down behind a hedge.

"Okay, in you get." He had added Babybath to the water and this created a
surface foam into which the woman sank. Her first bath for many weeks although
she had showers a couple of times at the drop-in centre. She closed her eyes and
let the warmth of the water and steam flow her. Her mind drifted and she dozed.
John returned to the kitchen made mugs of hot chocolate and some sandwiches, and
brought them back to the bathroom. It amazed him how quickly the woman devoured
the food. While she sipped the chocolate he decided to question her.

"I'm John but most people call me 'Major'. What's your name?"

"Paula. Paula Simkins."

"How do you do, Paula," John thrust his hand out, gripped Paula's and shook it.
Paula was startled by the grip but shook it off and replied, "Pleased to meet
you, I'm sure."

"Now that we have been formally introduced," John continued, "First we'll get
the dirt off you." He rolled up his sleeves, soaped a sponge and started to wash
Paula's back. Gradually he worked his way to her breasts and down and between
her legs. It was a clinical wash with no attempt at sexual titillation but all
the same he did feel around her cunt area and noticed a little response from her
nipples when he did her breasts.

"Paula, you may be half drunk but I am sure you are wondering what is going to
happen to you. Let me first assure you that I am not going to rape or murder
you. In the morning you will be free to go on your way if you wish. However,
tonight you will be sleeping in my bed mainly because I have no intention of
making up another bed for you at this time of night. But the bed will just be
for sleeping in. I shall not attempt to fuck you. If you wish to stay for
another night there will be the same sleeping arrangements but I may well try to
have sex with you. You can decide in the morning and we will go through it again
when perhaps your brain is more in gear. There is one condition to your being
here. You are not and I repeat NOT to drink any alcohol. No beer, wine or
spirits or any kind. Not even a sip. If you break that condition they you will
be disciplined. Is that clear Paula?"

Paula nodded but John wasn't very sure she completely understood. He would
explain it again in the morning. She would sleep through the night after having
consumed so much raw spirit already.

He washed Paula's hair and then helped her from the bath. She looked and smelled
so much better now the grime was gone. Producing a large, soft towel he dried
her, this time paying more attention to her sexual parts but still not trying to
stimulate her in any way. Leading her to the bedroom he indicated which side she
was to sleep and tucked her in. By the time he was ready for bed she was fast
asleep.

*********

"Clunk." A slight sound from downstairs awoke him. Opening his eyes he noted the
time on the digital bedside clock, 3.05. Reaching over he found the space
alongside him empty. He quietly crawled from the bed, slipped his feet into a
pair of slippers and picked up his dressing gown from the peg behind the door.
Quietly he made his way downstairs. He'd left the landing light on in case she
had wanted to find her way to the bathroom at night but now the kitchen light
was on as well. Paula, still naked, was at the table drinking from a bottle of
cooking sherry.

"Put the bottle down Paula!"

"Uh, why? Its better than I have been drinking." She waved the bottle around
before finally setting the bottle on the table.

"Paula, do you remember what I said to you last night? About drinking alcohol.
No? Well to refresh you memory, I said the one condition of your staying here
was that you were not on any account to drink even one spoonful of alcohol. I
also went on to say that if you did you would be disciplined. You have broken
that condition and now I am going to punish you."

"Oh yeah. Whattcha goo'in to doo? Spaaank me?"

"Exactly. That is exactly what I am going to do. Think yourself lucky it is only
going to be a spanking this time."

"Yoouu wouldn't daaare." Her voice was very slurred.

John went to a drawer and took out a tea towel. Grabbing her wrists he tied them
together with the towel and then lead her to a trap door in the floor by the
stair well. Opening it and flipping a light switch, he ordered Paula down the
stairs that lead to the cellar. John had plans to make it into a workroom but at
the moment it was a temporary storage area until he finished decorating and
rearranging the upstairs rooms. The opening to the cask door to the outside
pavement had been bricked up to prevent intruders but otherwise it was largely
unchanged since its day as a public house. The wine racks were still in place
but held only a few bottles of wine that John kept for guests and there were a
couple of old wooden barrels that John hoped one day to convert into seats. Most
of the remainder was items picked up at sales and kept in storage until given a
permanent room.

Paula began to look frightened now, and when he closed the trap door on them she
cried, "Nooooo. I couldn't help it. I needed a drink."

"If you stay here Paula, from now on having a drink will be a painful
experience." Sitting himself in a wooden chair, he pulled Paula across his
knees. She tried to struggle but with her hand tied and still somewhat drunk
resistance was futile. John removed one of his slippers and brought it down
across the bare flesh of her arse with a resounding CRACK.

"Yooowww," Paula howled. The sound was hardly out of her mouth before the second
and third strokes landed. Kicking her legs, Paula tried unsuccessfully to roll
away from the blows but John's strong arms held her tight. "Your senses may be
dulled by the drink, my dear, but I still think you can feel this slipper and
will still feel the effects of it come the morning." He laid the slipper on her
arse with vigour. Being somewhat undernourished, there wasn't much fat on the
bones so he didn't hit with his full force. Even so, her arse cheeks soon became
a rosy hue and very warm to touch and he decided she had had enough for the
first time.

Between sobs Paula called John all the bastard names she could think of but he
responded only by holding her tightly over his lap. Her wriggling though had
given him an erection, something that didn't go unnoticed by Paula who then
started calling him a pervert. Still he held her until she quietened down
somewhat.

"Paula, I hope you got the message this time. Drink means pain. I am going to
take you upstairs again now and perhaps we can get a few more hours sleep."

"After you've fucked me I suppose, you pervert."

"Paula, one thing you will find out about me is that I keep my word. I said I
wouldn't rape you and I won't. I also said I would punish you if you touched the
booze and I did. It works both ways. Now get up those stairs."

They stopped at the bathroom. His erection had partially subsided and he was
able to piss into the pan without difficulty. Paula watched in silence. It had
been a while since she had seen a cock. "Do you want to pee?" John asked. Paula
nodded. "I'll hold you so you don't have to sit on the hard seat." "I'll manage,
pervert," she retorted but didn't resist when John put his arms under hers and
gently lowered her to a crouching position over the pan. This brought his cock
against her belly and it started to recover some of its hardness but he tried to
ignore it.

Once again he took the tearful girl to his bed. Her hands were still fastened
with the tea towel. John ferreted around in a chest in the spare room and
returned with a pair of handcuffs, a relic from his army days in India. "Paula,
I didn't want to have to do this, but for your sake and mine I am going to make
sure you don't cause yourself or me any harm for the rest of the night." With
that he removed the towel and fastened one of her wrists to the rail of the iron
bedstead with the handcuffs. With her restrained he replaced the bedclothes and
climbed into bed himself. It was 3.55.

*****

John didn't sleep well for the rest of the night. Paula was understandably
restless but both dozed off sometime around 5 am. He awoke and got up at 6.30,
half an hour later than normal, did what he had to in the bathroom and then made
tea. Clearing a space on the bedside table for the tray woke Paula. "Mornin'
Paula. Lie still while I remove the handcuffs." Paula, who had been sleeping
face down turned over and remembered why she was sleeping face down. She very
gingerly sat up.

"How do you feel?" John thought she looked awful.

"Lousy, what do you think! I've a sore head and a sore arse and a sore wrist.
How would you feel?"

"Have some tea and I'll get some aspirins. Do you want to use the loo?"

"I'll manage on my own." She did although it was painful to sit on the hard
seat.

John had removed his dressing gown and was sitting up in bed when she returned.
They drank their tea almost in silence each not knowing how to begin to ask the
questions they wanted to ask.

When both empty mugs had been replaced on the tray, John put his arm around
Paula's shoulders and gave her a hug. "Time to get up now young lady," he said
gently pushing her out of the covers.

"Do I have to?" Paula moaned. The warmth of the bed and the softness of the
sheets were a luxury to her, a luxury she hadn't known for some weeks. He pulled
her naked body to his and took her into the bathroom. Looking into the bathroom
cabinet he found a spare toothbrush for her then sat on the loo and performed
and watched while she washed and cleaned her teeth. The sink being next to the
toilet, of necessity brought her colourful arse close to his face. She flinched
as he kissed the sore flesh.

"Sorry, I don't have female perfumed soap and stuff. Don't have many girls stays
here. Guess beggars can't be choosers," he quipped.

"I'm not a beggar and I didn't choose to come here, you pervert," Paula
retorted, "If you hadn't come along I'd have still been asleep and I wouldn't
have a sore arse."

"And you would still have been cold, smelly and drunk!" They swapped places, she
sat on the loo and watched him shave. His limp cock swaying slightly in front of
her face as he moved around. John noticed her watching and his cock began to
stiffen. He would have liked to have forced it into her mouth but resisted the
temptation.

"Put on my dressing gown," he told her as he dressed, "Then we'll get some
breakfast." In the kitchen he started frying eggs and bacon on the AGA cooker.
She sat on a padded stool nearby taking in some of the warmth from the stove.
Her clothes in the washing machine were still doing their circular orbit but
were on the last part of the cycle. "I don't normally have a cooked breakfast
but you are a guest and it looks as if you need feeding up. The smell of the
cooking bacon, the warmth and the throbbing in her head were almost too much and
she began to feel dizzy. Fortunately John noticed and caught her before she fell
and sat her in a Windsor chair by the table. The arms would prevent her falling
and she recovered quickly.

Paula quickly ate the food placed before her, including several slices of toast
and marmalade. She would have eaten more but John decided that as she had eaten
so little recently, she ought not to have too much at any one time. "Wash the
dishes while I start making a loaf in the bread machine." John ordered. He
removed her clothes from the washer. It was still raining hard so he hung them
on the rail above the stove to dry. "They should be dry after lunch," he said,
"Then, if you wish you can go on your way. First though I would like you to come
into the lounge and listen to a story."

"I'd rather sit here by the stove in the warm."

"It's warm in there too and the chairs are softer."

Chapter 2. Discipline in India

Paula and John sat opposite each other in easy chairs. John began.

"I told you I was a major in the army. For some years I was on attachment to the
Indian army and stationed in the north of the country. My job was mainly to
liaison between the Indian army and the British government concerning some
disputed territory. Part of my mandate was to visit out of the way villages and
negotiate with head people or chief of police for the area. I particularly liked
to visit one village or small town in the mountains as I was friendly with the
chief of police there and with a plantation owner who I had helped to get
through bureaucratic red tape so he could get started. He was now very
successful and I was made most welcome everytime I stayed with them. They even
provided a young Indian girl to warm my bed each time."

"I was in the village with the police chief and noticed a couple of drunks, a
man and a woman, staggering along the street. I mentioned that it wasn't a usual
occurrence in this place like it was in other parts of India. 'We will cure
those two before your next visit' he told me. When I asked how he replied,
'Discipline and care'. He explained that they would be taken to the town square,
stripped and publicly whipped and then given to two separate elder members of
the community to care for them. They would be forbidden on pain of a further
whipping, to touch any liquor. Sometimes two or even three whippings were
necessary before they were 'cured'. But it wasn't just the whipping it was the
care they received from the elders or their families. The elders were obligated
to report any small infringement of the alcohol ban. They were not to allow any
fondness to cloud their judgement. Otherwise they had to care and support the
person.

I returned to the village a month or so later and enquired about the couple. The
man seemed completely cured and had a job but the woman didn't get on too well
with her elder and had reverted several times. She'd had two further whippings
and was reluctant to work even to do housework for the elder. When I asked if
she couldn't be placed with another elder, the chief told me that no other would
have her in view of her attitude. I asked my plantation friend if he could help.
He owed me a favour so was more or less obligated. He took the girl in and they
became quite friendly much to the chagrin of the wife. I believe it was only
friendliness but the wife believed a lot more was going on."

"One morning while her husband was away she caught the girl sniffing a bottle of
whiskey. She hadn't drunk any but she thought she was going to if she hadn't
been caught. Summoning an overseer she had the girl strung up to a fig tree and
ordered him to whip her and to whip her good. He did. When he thought the girl
had had more than enough punishment he stopped but the wife in her jealousy
ordered him to continue. 'Are you sure? She can't take much more. Her back is
bleeding now and she will be permanently scarred.' The overseer asked her again.
Once more she angrily ordered him to continue, threatening him with the loss of
his job if he didn't. As he raised the whip again one of the Indian workers
stepped forward and placed his body over the girl's. 'Whip me if you must. To
whip her more would be murder.' Angrily the wife turned and went back into the
house. The Indian man took the girl to his shack and looked after her. Although
there was a difference in their ages, he cared for the girl and loved her. When
I saw them some months later, she still bore the scars of the whipping but
hadn't touched a drop of liquor. She seemed happy and content knowing she was
wanted and cared for. It took longer for the wife to recover. Her staff knowing
she had overstepped the mark, shunned her whenever possible. Even her husband
didn't support her actions."

John continued. "There is a point to this story that concerns you. I don't know
how long you have been on the booze but if you want to give up and restore your
life to some semblance of normality, then you can stay here under the condition
that if you touch a drop of drink, then you will be punished, not with the
slipper but with a belt or the cane. However, you would not be scarred or
permanently marked. I would give you discipline but I would also care for you.
In return I would expect you to help around the house and fulfill my needs in
bed."

There was a long pause before Paula spoke. "I think it is time I went. I said
you were a pervert. You just want to beat me and fuck me. You want a sex slave.
I'm off now before you really harm me."

She rose from the chair and started towards the kitchen. "Sit down, Paula!" The
command was issued in his major's voice. Almost without hesitation Paula
returned to her seat. "First of all you are going nowhere until after lunch. It
is just plain stupidity put on wet clothes and go out in the pouring rain in
this cold weather. After lunch your clothes should be dry and you will be free
to leave if that's what you decide. I give you my word on that. I gave you my
word last night that I wouldn't rape you. I kept it. I could easily rape you now
but I won't. it is not that I find you repulsive but just that I said I would
not fuck you unless you decide to stay and accept my terms. Last night I also
promised to punish you if you drank any alcohol. I kept that promise too. Now
sit there while I make a pot of tea and then you can tell your story. There must
be a good reason for your being a wino on the streets." Paula looked very
downcast. Tears came to her eyes but she remained seated.

Chapter 3. Paula's story

Paula hesitatingly began her story but finding he just listened and didn't
condemn her, the words began to flow out along with floods of tears. "My mother
died when I was twenty-three, my father had left us many years before, so many
that I can hardly remember him. I worked at the chicken factory earning a
pitiful wage but for a while I was able to keep paying the rent on my mother's
house. It was a struggle but I went without new clothes and food except there
was a plentiful supply of chicken pieces at the factory. When I was about thirty
I changed jobs to cleaning in a factory. It was night work and the pay was
better so I was even able to save a little but the firm went bust and I was on
the dole. I got another cleaning job but it was only part time and poorly paid.
It was during this time I met Bob Murdock. We seemed to hit it off and
eventually I moved in with him. All seemed fine for about four years but then
our relationship seemed to die. He went out by himself a lot or worked late. I
suspected he had another woman and I was right. One weekend she came to the
house with a car load of gear. Bob introduced her a Sandra and told me she was
taking my place. I could either leave or stay in the spare bedroom until I found
somewhere else. Needless to say, it came as a great shock. I had suspected
another woman but I didn't expect to be pushed aside in such a brutal way. My
part time job was insufficient to afford a room so I had to stay and at times
watch them kissing and fondling together. I looked for other work but I've no
qualifications and only limited skills and with other firms closing the number
of opportunities were few and always there were many applicants."

"One Thursday afternoon I was in the kitchen when Bob came in and we sat and had
a cuppa together. Sandra came in and was furious with him and accused him of
making up to me. Next day I had a job interview. I knew I wouldn't get it but I
had to go through the motions to keep the job centre happy. When I returned I
found my stuff in a couple of suitcases and a few plastic bags outside the door
with a note telling me to 'piss off'. The locks had been changed so I couldn't
get in the house. I couldn't carry the cases and bags so I just put them in the
garden shed and took the few items I could carry."

"I had no idea where to go or who to ask for help. I wandered into the park. It
was a fine day. I just sat on a bench an sobbed. No one came to help until an
old man, a tramp, came and sat beside me. 'You on the street too?' he asked. I
suppose so I replied. He gave me a swig from his bottle and sort of took me
under his wing. At night he showed me where to find shelter and where to
scrounge food. I met others like him. Sometimes I slept in squats, others under
bridges. I became more and more addicted to drink. It was the only way to
relieve some of my suffering. It blotted the horror of the situation from my
mind. Occasionally I would be picked up by the police and taken to a hostel,
more often they just moved me on. It wasn't too bad during the summer but now
with the weather becoming colder it gets more and more difficult to find a dry
place to sleep let alone a place that had some warmth. I heard one of the men
talking about going into the country and finding a barn to sleep in so I set off
but only got as far as the tunnel last night." She finished her story. Tears
rolled down her face.

John turned her head towards him, looked into her blue eyes and said, "Paula,
after hearing your story I can understand your mistrust for men but not all men
are the same. I know you do not trust me. Why would you? A stranger who took you
in for the night and then pasted your backside with a slipper. But you cannot go
through the rest of your life drinking yourself blotto just to obliviate the
need to trust. You have to trust someone, you especially have to trust yourself.
You've had a really bad experience but put it down to experience. Leave it
behind you and climb out of the cesspit you have gotten yourself into. Sorry
that sounds like a sermon. Come help me in the kitchen until lunch."

They worked together cleaning the kitchen. John really wouldn't have done it but
it seemed to lift Paula's spirits just to be working and the smell wafting from
the bread machine made her feel at hungry but at the same time she felt at home.
He noticed she eyed the sherry bottle a few times but didn't touch it. Working
helped distract Paula from the turmoil in her mind. Her head ached. She felt she
needed another shot of drink but every time she sat down she was reminded of the
consequences. She thought about staying. What would it be like? Would he really
cane her if she touched alcohol? Probably. Would he be kind to her? Would she be
able to stay? Would he throw her out when he'd had enough of her or found
another? Too many questions that no one could answer.

Lunch consisted of soup from a tin and slices from the freshly made loaf. John
gave Paula the lions share to give her something inside if she went on her way.
She hadn't given any indication of what she would do. It seemed she couldn't
make up her mind. Lunch over, he lowered her clothes from the ceiling rack .
They were dry. She dressed in front of him.

"Paula, I am going to walk to the village post office. I will be gone about half
an hour. It is still raining outside but if you want to leave then you are free
to do so. Take the rest of the loaf and there is a block of cheese in the
fridge. If you go then I wish you luck and hope you find someone, somewhere,
that will look after you and take care of you. If you are here when I return,
then I will take it that you have decided to stay and accept the conditions I
set." John pulled the girl to him and kissed her forehead. The kiss lasted
longer than a normal good-bye kiss. "Good luck be with you."

Paula was gone when he returned. So was the bread, cheese and the half bottle of
sherry. He was disappointed. She had only been with him a few hours and yet
something seemed to have been snuffed out of his life. He debated whether or not
to look for her but he couldn't do that. He had given his word to allow her to
leave. It was her choice. Still he worried over how she was doing.

Chapter 4 Nightmare in the park.

It was still lightly raining as Paula made her way back to park. The bandstand
would provide a little shelter. Passing under the tunnel she noted her cardboard
was still lying in an untidy heap. Perhaps I will need that tonight she thought.

Walking across the sodden grass to the bandstand with the unseasonably cold wind
gusting around her wet face, she began to doubt the wisdom of her decision to
leave. It was warm in the old pub. The bed was clean and there was plenty of
food. But there was no booze to drown her sorrows - or at least there was none
she dared touch. As soon as she sat on the bench, her arse reminded her once
again of the previous night. Sitting on the lee side of the stand she stared
almost unseeingly across the almost empty park. Only a lone woman dog walker
braved the cold wind and the rain. As the cold began to get through to her bones
Paula once again, tried to make sense of her decision to leave. The light began
to fade. Suddenly she was startled by slurred words, "Whatcha do'in, Paulie?" It
was Sam, one of the wino's she vaguely knew.

Paula didn't like the big, powerful, uncouth man. She cringed in the corner.
"Nuth'n"

"Got anyth'n in the bag?"

She handed over the bottle of sherry. It might please him enough to let her
alone, she thought.

"What else?"

Passing over the bread and cheese she watched as he ate ravenously, alternately
swigging from the bottle . He didn't leave her a crumb.

"C'mon 'ere. Yer looks cold and I got somethin' that'll warm yer up." The
aggressive man slid himself alongside the defenseless woman. She was really
afraid now. He had his left arm around her. She couldn't escape. His right hand
started to slide inside her coat.

"Nooo!" she screamed but her words were lost in the wind and dark twilight. "No,
let me go!" She punched his chest but to no effect. His hand fumbled with her
coat buttons but drunk and one handed he couldn't undo them. He ripped the coat
open. She smelled his foul breath. Yesterday she might not have noticed but
today, after a bath she smelt clean against his unwashed body.

"Yer smell nice. Where d'ya spend last night?"

"In the hostel," she lied.

Sam accepted her word but continued with his hand's journey. He ripped open her
shirt and thrust his hand inside. Her tits felt warm. He squeezed them and made
her cry out. Leaving them open and exposed to the cold air he began to work on
the zip to her flies. Paula struggles but his grip around her waist was
vice-like. Sam opened her trousers, felt inside and then forced a finger up her
cunt. It was painful and humiliating. Paula cried out but a hard slap to her
face silenced her. "I'm goin' to fuck yer whether yer like it or not," growled
Sam.

Sam pulled her lengthwise along the bench and pulled her trousers and knickers
down to her knees. Paula watched in the dim light as Sam opened his flies and
produced a semi-hard prick. He came closer to her, showing off his tool. Holding
it close to her face he grinned, "This will keep us both warm t'night."

"Nooo, you musn't...." Once again a slap to the face silenced her.

"Yer, smell ter nice, Paulie. I t'ink we c'n cure that." He aimed his cock at
her breast and let forth a stream of acrid piss. Waving his cock he managed to
spray Paula's face and most of her body before the stream finally spluttered to
a halt. Paula felt sick. Nauseated. Why did she leave the pub? She asked herself
the question again and again. Anything would be better than this.

Sam rubbed his cock until it was fairly hard and the moved near to Paula's legs
ready to make his entry into her cunt. Sensing it was now or never, Paula drew
her knees to her chest . Sam thought she was giving in and giving him an
opportunity to remove her trousers from the lower part of her legs. He stood in
front of her ready to grab the trouser legs. Instead, Paula lashed out with all
the force she could muster and hit his cock and balls with both feet. She
continued to lash out with both feet. The cry of pain that emanated from Sam's
lips should have awaken the dead from every cemetery within a three mile radius.
He staggered back, lost his balance and fell backwards clutching his groin.

Paula quickly got to her feet, pulled her trousers up and ran across the wet
grass as fast as she could. She didn't look back. Sam's moaning became lost in
the wind. She was no athlete but knew she could out run that lumbering brute.
But where should she go? John wouldn't take her back in again. At first she just
wandered aimlessly in the dark. The rain now was soaking her. Her tears added to
the wetness. She didn't care. It would help to cleanse her body of the piss. She
hardly noticed the cold until her shivering became so uncontrolled that she
could hardly stand. Eventually her meandering took her to the tunnel and the
random heap of cardboard. Home for the night? Or should she carry on to John's
house? No, he wouldn't never take her back in this state, not after she left
with the sherry. He seemed so very anti booze. Paula covered herself with the
card, but still shivering from the wet and cold and from fear Sam might decide
to come this way to find her, she couldn't get to sleep.

A woman and a dog passed through the tunnel. Inquisitively the dog nuzzled the
card and then licked Paula's face until the owner called it away and carried on.

*****

John felt more alone that evening than he had all the time he had lived there by
himself. He should get out more, he thought to himself. Perhaps, I'll get a beer
at the Speckled Hen. It was the pub at the other end of the village, one that
had succumbed to the overtures of a brewery chain and had remained in business.

"Evening Major." The landlord greeted his customer with a smile, "Don't often
see you in here."

"Too much to do to get the place to rights," John replied. "Just a half of
shandy to wash the dust away please George." John chose a quiet corner and
sipped his drink. If anything he felt more lonely inside the pub with others
around than he did at home by himself. Half an hour later he left for home.

"Evening Miriam." John greeting the woman with the dog as they passed under one
of the village street lights. "Not a very nice night again."

"Evening Major. No, we could certainly do with some of the summer warmth back
again. I pity that poor woman sleeping in the tunnel. She'll be very stiff and
cold by the morning I'll be bound. Still I suppose she used to it. Not very nice
though for those of us who have to use the subway." Miriam continued on her way.
John hurried down the road to the tunnel.

John viewed the shaking heap of cardboard with some trepidation. Hearing the
sobbing from within he knew it was Paula.

"Well, well Paula, we seem destined to meet this way."

"Go away, you don't want to see me like this. It was awful."

Surprised the words were not more slurred as he expected from someone who had
demolished half a bottle of sherry, John bent down and lifted some of the card
away from her face. A smell that could only be piss assailed his nostrils.
Noticing her bruised face he asked, "My God, Paula, what happened?"

"It was awful," was all she would say before she added, "Go home and let me die
in peace."

"Get up!" It was his major's commanding voice again. Paula stirred but didn't
find the strength to do more than sit. John lifted her to her feet and then
hoisted her to his shoulders in a fireman's hold. She wasn't too heavy so he was
able to carry her back to the house without too much difficulty. Along the way
she repeatedly told him, "Leave me I'm not worth it."

As on the previous night he removed her clothes in the kitchen noting how torn
they were. He could only imagine what must have happened in the short space of
time since she left his house.

"John, let me go. I just want to die and get some peace."

"No, you are not going anywhere except in the bath and then to bed. Same as last
night. He lead the sobbing woman upstairs to the bathroom. Adding more Babybath
this time he left her to soak while he started the washing machine going. He
hoped the smell would dissipate from the kitchen by morning.

Returning to the bath with mugs of hot chocolate, he was greeted with, "John?
Please.... I didn't drink the sherry. Please believe me. Please."

"Paula, if you had drunk that amount of sherry you wouldn't be able to talk the
way you are. Yes, I believe you and I won't punish you for taking it. Whatever
happened out there, you can tell me when you are ready. Or do you want me to get
the police involved?" When Paula said, "No," he continued, "Now get the
chocolate inside you. Then we'll get you to bed. Are you hungry? Did you eat the
bread and cheese?" Paula shook her head, no. "Right then I'll open another tin
of soup and bring it up when we've got you into bed."

********

For the second night running Paula found herself naked in a warm bed alongside
and equally naked man. John put his arm around her and drew her close to his
body. Kissing her forehead he whispered, "Last night I promised I would not fuck
you. I make no such promise tonight but I won't do anything you don't allow me
to do. For now just relax and rest. Get some sleep and try to recover from
whatever ordeal you have been through."

*******

"NOOOOO!!!" The scream and a flurry of flailing arms and fists that assailed his
chest instantly woke him. "NNNNOOOO!!! SAM YOU MUSTN'T ....."

John flipped on the light. "Hush, hush, its alright Paula. Calm down now. You
were dreaming." Seeing her sweat covered body lying there he knew it was more
than a dream, it was a nightmare. She was reliving the events of the previous
evening. John cuddled her close, speaking soothing words to quieten her.
Gradually Paula's breathing returned to normal and she allowed herself to relax
in his arms. "Tell me what happened Paula." The words were spoken quietly but
with authority. Somehow Paula felt compelled to answer and slowly, hesitantly,
related the events from the time she left his house. She was sobbing again as
she finished her story.

John fetched a flannel from the bathroom and wiped her face and the sweat from
her body. For a while they just lay there holding each other. Not talking. Not
sleeping, just thinking. After a while John turned off the light and they
snuggled down in the bed until the blankets came up to their chins. Still
clasped tightly together, they drifted off to sleep. Paula slept erratically.
She woke, peered at the clock. 5.07. She had to pee. John felt her move and
leave the bed. Was she looking for booze? He was relieved when he heard her
tinkling in the toilet.

Returning to the bed and finding John awake, she murmured "Sorry," and slid
herself tightly alongside him. His arms enfolded her and they rolled over, she
ending on top of him their bodies in close contact. John tentatively kissed her
lips, then again more firmly, Paula responded not really knowing why but carried
along by the passion of the moment and the relief that followed the ending of
the nightmare. She kissed him again and again. Her movements ground their bodies
together. Inevitably his cock became fully erect and rock hard.

"Do you realise the effect you are having on me?" John enquired, "Can you feel
it?"

"Yes," and after a pause she added, "And I want it."

"You don't have to you know. After last night I would understand."

"I want it," she repeated, raising her body a little and placing the head of his
cock at the opening of her cunt. Slowly she pushed down until he was fully
embedded within her. It had been a long while since she had been filled in this
way. She savoured the moment and then slowly began to thrust up and down on his
rampant manhood. Gradually she built up the tempo and the strokes increased in
rapidity. Groans of pleasure came from her lips. John assisted by placing his
hands under her tits and helping with the upstrokes. It wasn't long though,
before he was ready to climax. Stopping her, he pointed out that she was
unprotected. "Don't worry." She whispered, "I had unprotected sex with Bob for
four years without any result. He got his new love pregnant within a month."
Moments later he erupted within her womb.

*********

They didn't lie there long. Both were naturally early risers and by seven they
sat at the breakfast table listening to the news on local radio.

'......last night a homeless man, Sam Briggs, was assaulted in a local park. He
is now recovering in hospital. Two youths have been arrested and are being
questioned about the incident.'

"We have to let the police know, Paula. We cannot let those two boys go to jail
for something they didn't do."

"But I don't want to go through all that again. I don't want the questioning. I
don't...."

"Think of those kids Paula. What they are going through."

"Maybe they attacked him afterwards?"

"Look, Peter Chapman is an inspector and a friend of mine, I'll phone him and
see what I can find out." John phoned his home number. "Morning Peter, Major
Padham here. Look I may be able to help you and you can return the favour. John
outlined the news report and outlined what happened to Paula. He pointed out
there would probably still be evidence at the bandstand, such as her torn bra,
buttons from her shirt and coat. There might also be skin from the scratches on
Paula's breasts under Sam Briggs' finger nails. I also have the urine
impregnated shirt. It was too torn to put through the washer so I stuffed in a
plastic bag and put it in the wheelie but can remove it."

"Well, I'm not actually on that case but I will pass the info on and get people
out to check the site. I presume the return favour you want is to keep you out
of it?"

"Paula doesn't want to press charges. She's been through enough already."

"No promises on that but I will do what I can. No one can force her to press
charges. Look, I'll talk to who ever's in charge of the case and get someone out
to take a statement. It will have to be a WPC trained in rape cases. I'll get
back to you. Thanks."

An hour later the phone rang again. "Peter here. Briggs' injuries are consistent
with Paula's description of what she did. They have freed the youths. Forensic
have taken scrapings from under his finger nails and will want the shirt for DNA
testing. I expect Briggs will confess when we question him but without Paula
preferring charges, we won't be able to hold him. Sergeant June Bealings will be
round to see you around 10 o'clock. We have a couple of officers arriving at the
site at this moment to make a search. Everything is very wet out there so some
evidence may have been washed away."

Sergeant June Bealings arrived at the appointed time and questioned and took
statements from both of them individually and then together. Paula was
embarrassed at first. The only clothes she had to wear were from my wardrobe and
much too big for her. June was obviously experienced at her job and went through
the whole process with tack and consideration. She asked to take photographs of
the bruising to Paula's face. Overnight the purple colouring had increased
dramatically. She produced a Polaroid camera and took four pictures of the face
and two of the chest scratches. We should really have them taken by a proper
photographer with the police surgeon present but we can say you declined to
attend the station.

Paula emphasised once again that she didn't want to go to court. June
surprisingly said, "Officially I must try and get you to press charges but off
the record, it could give you a lot of grief and he still might get away with
it. I believe it happened as you said but a lawyer would try and make out you
were willing, that you could have left as soon as he arrived but didn't, you
willingly gave him the food and drink, that you wanted to have sex with him. It
would be very harrowing for you to prove otherwise. So while I and others will
officially ask you to reconsider pressing charges, my unofficial advise is,
don't. But I never said that!"

An hour an a half later she left taking the smelly shirt with her.

Chapter 5. Temptation

"Miriam? Major here. Look, I picked up that woman from under the tunnel last
night..... Yes, she was smelly but after a bath there was a human being
underneath. The point is, she has almost nothing to wear. Most of what she had
on was torn or so filthy it won't wash clean. My clothes are obviously too big
and not really the right style. ..... How big? Well she's probably an inch
taller than you and a bit slimmer.......Yes, yes, that it what I was wondering.
Can I come round and pick the bags up?........ You will? You're sure it's no
trouble? .....You're off to the shops anyway. Thanks then. See you shortly."

John turned to Paula. "That was the woman with the dog who found you in the
tunnel last night. She keeps the church jumble sale stuff and is going to bring
the bags of clothing round for you to pick through. Once we can get you into
something half respectable we can go into Marks and Spencers or somewhere else
in Fordwich and buy some decent things."

"You don't have to go to that expense John. I am quite used to going to the
charity shops for things. Actually you often find things there you cannot buy in
a clothing store, and at a tiny fraction of the price. Look, last night we were
an item but for how long. I don't know how long I can keep off the booze even
with the threat of painful punishment. For now, it is best to take one day at a
time. You've done a lot for me and I am grateful but our lives are worlds apart.
I am an untrained, jobless, homeless woman. You are fifteen years older,
probably wealthy and upper class. Will our worlds come together or will they
blow us and our lives apart? Take one day at a time......"

The door bell interrupted her words. "Come in Miriam. I'll get the other bags."
John dumped the dustbin liners on the kitchen floor and introduced Paula and
Miriam.

"Well you certainly smell better than when we last met," Miriam bluntly pointed
out, "And I can see why the Major wanted some clothing for you but my God, did
he do that to your face?"

Paula shook her head as John butted in, "That's one of the reasons she was under
the tunnel."

"Ooooh, tell me more. Sounds like a juicy story," Miriam chortled.

"Miriam, believe me, it is a story that is best not told. Thanks for the
clothes. We'll sort through them so she has something to wear until her face
heals enough to go into town without too many heads to making 180 degree turns."

"One of these days then, Major. Good luck to you Paula, hope you find something
you can use. Don't worry about paying for them. I'm sure church funds can stand
it." She shook Paula's hand and turned to leave. "I'll pick up the bags you
don't need on my way back, then I can put them in the back of the garage before
I put the car away. 'Bout a couple of hours. That give you enough time to sort
through?"

Paula and John sorted the piles of clothing and found quite a few items that
would suit. The main shortage now was underwear and shoes. She changed into a
check shirt, fawn trousers and a colourful woolen sweater. Paula began to feel
'normal' again whatever that meant.

Miriam returned in the early afternoon and when John asked Paula to make tea for
them all, Miriam quipped in her forthright manner, "Training her to be a
housemaid already I see."

"Just making her feel at home Miriam, that's all." They laughed.

"I see you found something suitable," Miriam observed as she took in Paula's new
clothes. "Find anything else?" John explained the problem of underwear which
provoked an immediate retort, "I don't suppose you wanted to find any Major!"
Paula blushed but John came back with, "I've lost the pleasure of taking them
off." When told of the shoe problem Miriam immediately removed one of hers and
made Paula try it on. It was a size too large. "Pity, but I'll see Emma in the
morning. She's the shoe lady, she always runs the shoe stall at the jumbles."
All this kindness became too much for Paula. Tears welled in her eyes and ran
down her bruised cheeks. Wiping them away with kitchen tissue, she apologised
and thanked her for all her kindness but Miriam would not hear of it. "It's like
this, love, I help you one day, you help somebody the next and somebody helps me
the day after. It goes in circles. We get what we give."

Over tea they made small talk and Miriam's quirky humour had them laughing
steadily. It was the first time for months Paula had been able to laugh. She
enquired about the dog, but was told he was indoors. Miriam didn't like taking
him in town and the dog didn't like all the people and waiting outside shops.
She promised to call by with him when she was out walking.

Tears again flowed from Paula's eyes after Miriam had left. "Everyone is just
too kind," she sobbed. "There has to be bad somewhere. Apart from you, Miriam is
the first person to talk to me like a human being for months."

"Miriam's a gossip but she means well and is good hearted. Everyone in the
village will now know we are living together. I can visualize a headline in the
unofficial parish newsletter, 'The Major takes in a street urchin' or something
similar."

"Is that what I am? A street urchin?"

"No dear, but that's what you will be by the time the gossip had got from one
end of the High Street to the other!" He gave her a hug and a kiss.

The next few days were fairly uneventful. They made love like honeymoon couples.
There was enough food in the freezer to last a while; he made fresh bread as
required; milk was delivered but by the end of the week it was necessary for him
to go into town. He wanted Paula to go with him but her face still showed signs
of bruising. Much fainter now but still visible. Miriam called a couple of times
and brought Max, the dog for Paula to cuddle and stroke.

*******

For the next six weeks they lived together as a couple. The villagers began to
accept Paula and speak with her as they met. Miriam often popped in for a chat
and when the weather was nice, Paula walked the dog with her. On the surface all
seemed to be going well but the Major knew there were times when Paula
desperately wanted a drink. She became irritable and her hand would shake.
During these periods John would stay by her and use his diplomatic skills or his
commanding authority to prevent Paula regressing. All liquor was now stored in
the locked cellar although the key was fairly accessible.

It was during one of her depressed periods that John had to attend another of
the charity committee meetings. He debated whether to leave her but in the end
decided she wasn't a prisoner, she had to be given the chance to prove how
strong she was or wasn't, to resist the temptation. He'd left her alone in the
house on a number of occasions but this evening he felt was different.

Paula would have resisted but Miriam came by and was invited to have a cup of
tea. "I think I would rather have a nice glass of wine, Paula dear."

"It's locked in the cellar."

"Well, let us find the key and get a bottle. I'm sure the Major won't mind. Its
been a while since I've had a glass of wine with him. Since before you came in
fact."

"I mustn't, Miriam, I mustn't....."

"Oh go on Paula, a glass of wine won't hurt you. Now where's the key?" Miriam
wouldn't normally have pushed like this but Paula's manner gave the impression
she was hiding something and there was more behind her refusal than met the eye.
A juicy piece of gossip perhaps.

The key, as always, was on a ledge under the stairs. Paula found it. Her hands
shook as she opened the trap door. "Miriam, we shouldn't do this."

"You can blame me then," Miriam laughed. Miriam went down the steps and selected
a bottle of white wine. Paula's eyes glazed over as Miriam showed her the label
as if to get her approval for the choice. Paula just nodded. Her hands shook too
much to uncork the bottle and Paula had to do it for her. At the back of Paula's
mind came the words, 'Booze means pain.'

"I mustn't. I mustn't have it." Paula repeated the words several times but
Miriam swept them aside. "Nonsense, a glass or two of wine never did anyone any
harm. Doctors say it is good for you."

Once the wine was set before her and she had tasted a sip, Paula's inhibitions
left and she was soon on her second glass.

Chapter 6. Disciplined

Luckily the Major chaired the meeting that evening and was able to curtail any
lengthy discussions and sidetracking by Mrs. Bradley so the meeting finished
nearly an hour earlier than normal. He made his apologies and didn't stay for
tea afterwards. Arriving at the old pub, he entered quietly by the kitchen door
and hearing voices in the lounge he knew that Paula was not alone. He breathed a
sign of relief but then saw the corkscrew and cork on the counter. "Oh God, no,"
he breathed. Knowing Miriam's penchant for white wine and recognising her voice
he had some inkling of what happened. Perhaps it was only Miriam doing the
drinking? He doubted it. Once Paula smelled the alcohol, she wouldn't be able to
resist especially if Miriam's more forceful personality pressed her.

"What's going on?" John's voice cut through the conversation. It was quiet in
tone but had a steely edge to it. "You disappointed me Paula. You know you
mustn't drink. You know why. You know what will happen to you."

"Please, John, no. I couldn't help it. I tried but I couldn't. Please John.
Please." Tears flowed from her eyes.

"You know what I have to do and why I have to do it. Go upstairs and get ready."

Miriam started to apologise. "It was all my fault Major. I didn't think you
would mind. She kept saying she mustn't have any but I insisted. I didn't see
anything wrong with a glass or two of wine. You and I have drunk a bottle
together many times and she's hardly had two glasses......."

John cut in, "Miriam, you weren't to know but in future if a person says no,
then don't force her. You have now undone all the work I have done with Paula
since she has been here. In fact it is one of the reasons she is here. I am not
blaming you. You didn't know and still don't know, the whole story. You may
guess some of it but your guess could be very wide of the mark so I suggest you
don't try and spread this around the village." His tone was icy.

Miriam flinched and felt like a naughty schoolgirl brought before the headmaster
again. She tried to apologise again insisting that she had pressured Paula but
John just dismissed it saying, "You weren't to know. Please take the rest of the
wine and leave me to deal with Paula." Seeing Miriam was upset too, he added,
"Look, why not call round tomorrow afternoon and perhaps we can talk about it
then. I must see to Paula now."

Miriam left. John went to Paula. "I am sorry I am going to have to do this Paula
but I have to. If I don't then there will be a next time and then another until
you are back on the streets in a drunken stupor."

"Please John, don't. I won't do it again. I promise." She pleaded and pleaded
but John just help up his hand to silence her.

"Paula dear, I have to do this. I know it was mainly Miriam's fault but you were
weak and let her lead you. You must learn to exert yourself more and not be
pushed around. You knew it was wrong. You knew I wouldn't approve or allow it.
Didn't you remember the pain from last time?"

"Yes, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I tried John, I really tried."

"I know you tried dear. I know it is hard for you. You have done well so far but
now I think I need to reinforce the message I gave you when you first came here,
'booze means pain'. Now undress, put your dressing gown on and we'll go to the
cellar and get this over with."

Although she knew the answer, once more she pleaded, "John can't you forgive me
just once?"

John didn't have to answer. Paula shakingly undressed while John went to the
wardrobe. Seeing him remove his polished leather belt from his dress army
uniform, Paula cried out with real alarm, "No John, not the belt. Not the belt I
couldn't take the pain of that."

John put his arms around her, "You can and you will." He too undressed and put
on his gown. Paula fleetingly thought she could run away but immediately
recognised the impossibility. Even if she could dress and get out of the door
before he caught her, where would she go? Back on the streets? And if she tried
to run he would consider her even weaker and might thrash her harder. The only
real option was to submit. She wouldn't be able to persuade him not to punish
her. He kept his word. He had kept his word and looked after her. He cared for
her. She thought he loved her but he hadn't said those words to her.

"Come now Paula, let's get it over with. I don't want to do this any more than
you want to receive it but it has to be done. Not everything in this life is
pleasant, unfortunately." John hastened her to the cellar, closing the hatch
behind them. Pulling one of the dusty old beer barrels still on its stand away
from the wall, John covered it with a cloth. "Lay over the barrel Paula. I am
going to tie your wrists and ankles to the stand so that you cannot move. This
for your safety. I do not want to hit you in the wrong place because you moved
at the wrong time."

Seeing her spread-eagled across the barrel John remarked how sexy she was in
that position, "If I didn't have to deliver your punishment I would love fuck
you like that. See how you have stimulated me already." John opened his dressing
gown so she could see his hardness.

"Don't torment me John, please!. Just get it over with." She was crying now.
John felt so sorry for her but his army training had instilled in him the need
to do his duty.

"Yes, let's get it over with." He wrapped the buckle end of the belt around his
wrist leaving a free end of about eighteen inches. Swinging the belt in a large
arc he brought it down with a loud 'CRACK' on Paula's unprotected arse. She let
forth a tremendous scream. "My God," he thought, "It sounds as if I am killing
her." The stripe across both cheeks was a vivid red.

Almost mechanically he lifted his arm again and brought the belt down. Another
howl of pain. "No more, no more please, please, please!" she shrieked.

John was very tempted to stop there but his analytical mind said that she must
receive sufficient punishment this time to deter her for a very long time
otherwise he would have to repeat the thrashing in only a week or two. Again and
again he brought the belt down until after eight strokes the whole of her
buttock area from the base of the spine to the crease at the top of her thighs
was one huge blotch of red and purple. Paula was howling, screaming and sobbing.
She called him a perverted sadist all the other names she could think of. John
just sat by her side, put his arm across her back and spoke quietly until she
had calmed down a little. When her screaming and wailing had reduced to heavy
sobbing, John said, "I am going to keep you like this for a further five minutes
until you have really calmed down. Your punishment will then be over and I will
do all I can to help you recover and to ease the pain."

The pain was still dreadful when the five minutes was up and he released her
hands. "Lie still until I untie your feet and then I will help you up."

"I don't need your help, you cruel bastard," Paula shouted at him as he tried to
help her from the barrel. But she did need him. She could hardly stand on her
feet. John pressed her naked form close to his body while she tried fairly
unsuccessfully to hammer his back with her fists. Irrationally in the
circumstances she noticed that although he held her, his prick was against her
belly, it wasn't hard any longer. Beating her hadn't stimulated him. Quite the
reverse.

"Calm down Paula, the worst part is over, I am so sorry I had to do it but I
still believe it is the best way to stop you becoming a drunkie for the rest of
your life. Now let's get you upstairs and see if we can soothe away some of the
soreness."

Paula very gingerly touched her tormented arse then looked at her hands as if to
check there was no blood before painfully climbing the stairs to the bedroom.
"Lie face down and I will put some cold compresses on your bum to take some of
the fire away and then I'll massage some soothing cream on." John went to the
bathroom and soaked some towels in cold water and gently laid them over the
fiery redness. He repeated this operation several times before applying cold
cream. By now Paula had almost stopped sobbing although her tortured bum was
still extremely painful. Even the weight of the bedclothes seemed intolerable to
her. John slid down beside her trying with his body to raise the sheets
slightly.

"Don't be afraid to wake me any time in the night to apply more towels or
cream," John instructed. Neither of them slept well until just before dawn the
pain had eased somewhat and they both drifted off.

It was 6.30 when Paula next awoke. This in turn woke John. "How are you
darling?" he asked.

"Sore, of course. Whatcha think?" She moved over worked her way on top of him.
"Remember what we did after you spanked me the first time?"

"How could I forget! Would you like to try it again?" She did. Sliding herself
on to his erect pole, she gently moved her body up and down. The movement of her
buttock muscles caused stabs of pain to run through her whole body but she
didn't care. The fire in her arse had warmed her cunt and she needed fucking.
She needed to feel his cock inside her even if she couldn't do it at full rut.
Still at the gentle pace it wasn't long before he came but he still kept
sufficiently hard for Paula to continue a few minutes longer to achieve her
orgasm.

Later over breakfast they discussed her punishment. Paula, understandably,
wanted alternatives if she lapsed again. The belt was awful and the cane just
too terrible to contemplate. John said he never wanted to use either on her ever
again but didn't waver from his resolve to do so if the need arose. This upset
Paula considerably. She tried to convince him there were other ways such as
Alcoholics Anonymous but he considered them namby-pamby and ineffective. As the
discussion turned to acrimonious argument, Paula became very angry, calling John
a sadist just wanting to see her scarred like the Indian woman in the story.
Although John quietly tried to counter her argument, for the rest of the morning
there was a invisible barrier between them. Things improved a little over lunch.
Paula apologised but didn't know how she would react if ever the temptation to
drink over came her.

Miriam came round in the afternoon to apologise for her part in getting Paula to
drink and discretely tried to find out what went on after she left last night.
She had some idea because Paula sat down only with great difficulty but all she
got out of the girl was, "It is a private matter."

Chapter 7. Abducted

Temptation came only a fortnight later. One evening a party of John's army
friends and their wives came round for drinks and nibbles. Although she helped
serve the alcohol under John's watchful eye, she only partook of soft drinks. It
was as though she was being tested and was coming out on top. By 11.30 all the
guests had left and John went round clearing away all the half empty bottles and
locking up any that were worth keeping away. All the dregs were poured down the
sink. Paula washed up the glasses. They both knew this was to reduce the chances
of Paula remitting whilst John was away in London the following day.

Alone in the house, Paula started vacuuming and tidying the room after the
previous evening's party. The smell of alcohol was still in the air but it was
too cold to open the windows. Moving a chair she found a half-full bottle of
wine tucked between the chair and the wall. They had missed that last night.
Almost without thinking she picked up the open bottle and took a swig. Instantly
she realised what she had done. She remembered the story where the girl had only
smelled the fumes and had suffered horrendous punishment. John wouldn't be back
for a while, he would never know. The fumes, the taste in her mouth all tempted
her. Another swig, then another. Suddenly realising what she had done, she
screamed, "NO!" Immediately she took the bottle and emptied it down the sink.
Too late. She knew she couldn't hide the fact from John, she knew what his
reaction would be. No, she couldn't take another thrashing. She had to leave.

Crying she gathered a few clothes and what little money she could find. A few
pence over £150. That would not last long but at least now she looked
respectable and might be able to get a job.

It was a  tremendous wrench. One part of Paula's mind said, "Stay, you have a
home, you have someone you love and who cares for you. Don't give it all up for
a few mouthfuls of wine and a few strokes of the belt. Or maybe the cane." But
the thought of the pain from either came to her more strongly. It was one thing
to have the force of John's dogmatic personality making one do it, quite another
to willingly wait for his return to punish her. The Indian girl didn't have the
choice. She did. John wouldn't be back until teatime at the earliest. Maybe it
would be late evening before he wormed the truth from her but she knew he
certainly would suspect something was up. Paula knew she could hide her feelings
from him and eventually would confess. And she knew what would follow.

Although she didn't feel like eating, she made some sandwiches knowing it would
be a long while before she might eat again, certainly it wouldn't be fresh,
homemade bread. Over lunch she wavered to and fro and whether to stay or go. In
the end the thought of pain of punishment won. Leaving a short note, she left
the house.

Walking as far as the slip road to the A41 she quickly hitched a lift in a
delivery van to Ternbury 25 miles away. Hitch-hiking was a risk for a woman on
her own but the young van driver did nothing other than chat. He dropped her at
a firm in the town centre and carried on with his deliveries. There are other
good men in the world, Paula thought. They are not all like Sam Briggs. Maybe
it's a good sign for a new start she said to herself.

Making her way to the YWCA she was able to get a room and spent the evening
alone pondering on her decision to leave John and what he would do when he found
the note.

*********

Arriving home around 6 p.m., John called out, "Hi Paula, I'm back." Silence. The
house seemed deathly quiet. He sensed something was wrong and his suspicions
were confirmed when he saw the note leaning against a wine bottle in the
kitchen.

Dearest John,

I shall be gone when you read this. I found an opened bottle of wine in the
lounge stuck between the chair and the wall and took a drink of it and then
another before I really realised what I was doing. Although I immediately poured
the rest down the sink, I felt so guilty I would have had to have confess it to
you. But I could not face another thrashing with the belt or even worse to
receive the cane. It all seems so unfair. You and your friends were drinking
last night, some of them had more than they should have but I wasn't allowed a
sip. Yet when you know of my having even a small quantity, it would mean a spell
over the barrel. Much as I love you, I cannot subject myself to such pain again
even if you are morally right. I must therefore leave you and your house.

I have taken £150 from the tins in the kitchen and bedroom. If and when I get a
job I will repay the money. Please treat it as a loan. I wouldn't steal from
you. Please forgive me and try to forget what I have done. I know I have
disappointed you and have let you down.

I love you still, Paula. XXXXXX

John read the note with disbelief. Had he been such a tyrant? He thought he was
doing the best for her and thought she approved if reluctantly. Now she was
gone. Where? He phoned Miriam to see if she knew anything. Nothing. In the dark
he walked to the tunnel. Nothing. On to the park. Nothing. Returning home
despondent he phoned Peter Chapman to ask if his people could keep a look out
for her. Getting out the car he drove into Fordwich and looked for her there.
Nothing. There seemed nothing more he could do that day. On the following days
he spent time walking around the town and asking the homeless men sitting on the
public benches but none had seen her. She must have moved out of the area. He
went to Ternbury a few times but their paths didn't cross. All he could hope for
now was that she found job and would contact him to repay the money. He didn't
want it off course, he only wanted her. Wanted her so badly and now he had lost
her, was willing to overlook her lapse. Perhaps he was being unfair.

*********

Paula was running out of money. She spent a good deal of time in the job centre
filling out application forms even for quite menial jobs but with not having
worked for some time and have no permanent address she never even got one
interview. Quite by accident she managed to obtain a few temporary jobs working
as a waitress in the evening. They were poorly paid but it did go towards paying
for the room and she got a meal as one of the perks of the jobs.

After three weeks the money ran out and she found herself on the streets. By now
it was almost Christmas. Party season when everyone else seemed to be enjoying
themselves and here she was, alone, depressed and penniless. On a Friday evening
a few days before Christmas day, she was walking the streets late at night. All
around were parties of laughing revelers. An ambulance came by, blue lights
flashing, sirens blaring. Paula was shivering cold and very hungry. Following
the ambulance towards the hospital, she thought at least it would be warm
inside.

Two more ambulances arrived at the hospital just as she did and in the confusion
she mixed with the milling crowds, and passed by the watchful receptionist.
Taking a seat with the patients and their friends she tried to make herself as
inconspicuous as possible. It was warm. She dozed. A nurse asked if she was
okay. Paula said she was waiting for a friend to be seen to. A lad in his
twenties went to the sandwich machine and then sat next to her. The sight of the
food reminded her she had not eaten since the previous day. Plucking up her
courage she asked the lad if he would let her have one of the sandwiches as she
hadn't eaten that day. Unfortunately the boy's action was not what she expected.
He sniffed and looked down at her then got up and walked to the receptionist.
Moments later a security guard appeared and lead her away.

Explaining she only wanted somewhere warm to stay and had only asked for a piece
of bread because she was so hungry, the security guard took pity on her. "Look,"
he said, "It's more than my job's worth to allow you to stay here, but I can
take you to my office for questioning. Come with me."

The office was small, and equipped with numerous monitors. "Sit there." Opening
his lunch box he took out a pork pie, a chocolate bar and an apple. "Eat these.
If anyone comes in, I pretend to interrogate you, otherwise you can enjoy your
meal in peace. I know what it is like to be out of work for a long time," the
kindly fellow added. Taking her name and a few details he let her eat. "Sorry,
that's all I brought. I'll have a breakfast when I get home." Paula thanked him
profusely and when she had finished, the guard apologised again but said he
would have to see her out of the building. "Regulations," he muttered.

Paula wandered aimlessly along not knowing where she went. Not caring either.
Anywhere or nowhere it didn't matter. A car hooted as it passed, stopped and
reversed back to her. A lad got out. "Get in," he ordered.

"No, I don't need a lift," Paula answered.

"I waa ssn't off ffer rring you one, I told you to get in." The lad's slurred
speech indicated he had been drinking.

"No," Paula screamed. A punch hit her stomach. The rear door of the car opened
and she was pushed inside. Immediately the driver revved the engine and the car
raced off. By the smell, all three occupants had been drinking. The boy
alongside her pulled her close, "We were looking for a chick to fuck but it
looks as if we've got and old hen instead. Still she'll have holes in the right
places." Paula pulled away when he tried to kiss her and was rewarded with a
hard slap across her cheeks. She didn't pull away the second time and could
taste the beer on his lips. It disgusted her but she remained quiet. "Where'll
we take her boys?" the driver asked. He too was obviously drunk as the car was
veering from one side of the road to the other. "What about the old house on the
new estate Beatie's are putting up?" his front seat passenger asked. "Yeah, Rod,
you work over there, how about it?"

Paula realised Rod was her backseat companion. "Yeah, should be okay unless one
of the other lads has taken a girl there. It'll be locked because they have a
site office downstairs but the upstairs window catch is bust and it's easy
enough to get in."

"I must keep a note of what they are saying and be able to describe them later,"
Paula thought to herself and remembering the Sam Briggs affair.

It wasn't long before they turned off on to an unmade road and then stopped in
front of an isolated house. To her right was a floodlit compound with various
bits of earth moving equipment. Some of the light reflected to the building but
otherwise it was in darkness. Rod got out and shimmied up a down pipe to the
window, prised it up and entered. Moments later the front door opened and the
other two boys dragged Paula inside.

"Please don't do this," she pleaded but again it was answered with a blow across
the face.

"Yer can do this the hard way or yer can do it the easy way. I don't give a
shit. We are all goin' to fuck yer in any way we want and if you don't like it
then you'll just get hurt until yer get it anyway. We wanted a young chick so
were having to make do with an old bag. We're not pleased with that so don't
think we'll worry overmuch if yer don't look so nice in the morning." The driver
turned to the passenger, "Bring the beer with yer, this may be thirsty work." In
the weak floodlights Paula saw him heft a dozen cans in his arms.

Driver flipped on his lighter which showed them the direction for the stairs
that lead to a bedroom. Only a dirty mattress and a pile of blankets remained.
"Help me cover the window with a blanket, Rod said to the driver, "Then we can
put the light on." If anything Rod seemed the least inebriated and did most of
the work in hooking the blanket of what remained of the curtain rail. It more or
less covered the window area so they turned the light on.

For the first time Paula could see her captors clearly. All were around 20 years
old with very short hair, Rod's head was shaved. All wore jeans and open necked
shirts and leather jackets. "Undress," the driver ordered and when Paula
hesitated and pleaded the passenger produced a flick knife. "Undress or we'll
cut 'em off and probably you as well."

Paula shivered in the cold which also made her nipples stiff much to the delight
of the boys who assumed she was getting hot for them. Rod squeezed her breasts
and pulled her nipples while the driver felt her arse and up between her legs.
"Better get yourself ready cunt, we're all going to have you probably twice or
more."

"Kneel," Rod ordered at the same time undoing his flies and producing an erect
cock. Paula's face was now level with his manhood and she sensed the next order
before it came. "Suck me off." She knew better than to refuse. At least these
boys are reasonably clean, she thought, unlike Sam who really was a dirty old
man. Opening her mouth she took the proffered cock and began to gently suck
without putting it too far inside. This wasn't good enough for Rod. Grabbing her
hair he pulled her forward until his cock head reached the back of her throat.
Then, grabbing both ears he pulled Paula back and forth on his weapon. The other
two opened cans of beer and waited for Rod to finish. He was not long in coming.
Obviously the feels he copped during the ride to the house had stimulated him
already. Paula retched. Seeing an unopened paint tin nearby she spat the goo
into it. If I survive this, maybe they can DNA test it. It was again one of the
things she learned of during the Sam Briggs affair.

"My turn," the driver laughed, "Git down on the mattress," but before Paula
could comply, a kick under her breasts sent her sprawling. In a flash the driver
was on top of her forcing her legs apart. There were no preliminaries. His cock
went in and he pushed to the hilt. Slam, bang, slam, bang. Deep hard thrusts
with no thought for the victim. The driver liked his pleasures hard, if he hurt
the girl, so what? Paula had begun writhing in agony and started screaming. A
kick to the face from the passenger nearly caused her to pass out but it
silenced her. Rod bent down and grabbed both her tits and held her tight to keep
her reasonably still while the driver carried on with his relentless pounding.
Again the fucking was short lived and he spewed his seed right into her.

"Now me," passenger said, "I'm going to have you like a dog, "Turn over and on
all fours." Assisted by various kicks and punches, Paula was made to assume the
dog position. Passenger entered easily from the lubrication of driver's sperm
and her own fluids that were now just beginning to flow although the pain for
the blows to her body made it anything but enjoyable. Soon her vagina was again
flooded with spunk. Passenger pulled out and Paula collapsed to the mattress.

"It's no good you thinking you are just going to lie there," Rod grinned, He
threw his now empty beer can into the corner. "On your back slut." Once in
position he had the other two pull her legs back so they were alongside her ears
but wide apart. Her vagina was again wide open. His cock had once again reached
full erection and her was ready to give her cunt another pounding. He did this
for a while and then instructed his mates to hold her very tight, he was going
to give her arsehole a good reaming. "Her cunt is too sloppy now," he commented.

A scream came from Paula lips as the virgin hole was violated and just as
quickly silenced by driver's knee being jammed into her mouth. The only
lubrication was from the sperm remaining on his cock when it was taken from her
vagina so entering her was not only painful it was difficult. Nevertheless Rod
forced his way in and began humping without mercy. All Paula could do was lie
there and take it. The two boys held her tight while the third screwed her. The
pain was incredible and several times she felt close to passing out but always
consciousness returned before she finally succumbed. Rod eventually deposited
his load in her bowels and withdrew. All the boys drank another beer. Paula lay
on the mattress sobbing. "We haven't finished with yer yet slut. Just got a bit
thirsty. That's all."

Passenger cackled, "I'm getting hard enough for another go. Think I'll do her
arse as well but doggie style like last time. Paula was in so much pain that she
couldn't hold the position. She doubled up after another kick to the ribs.
Unfortunately Rod had her arm bent behind her back at the time and there was an
audible crack as the blow caused her to swing sideways. Her arm was broken.

Suddenly the quiet of the outside was shattered by the wail of sirens. Even in
their now very drunken state the boys recognised the police were arriving.
Pulling up their jeans they dashed for the door and into the car. The chase was
short. Driver was in no fit state to drive at all let alone control the car at
high speeds. They didn't make the first corner before hitting a brick wall and
turning the car over.

The police found Paula and called an ambulance. She looked a very sorry sight.
Her face was distorted and swollen from the beatings. She had multiple bruising
to the body, three broken ribs and a broken arm. She passed out in the ambulance
and returned to consciousness at intervals while the doctor's at the hospital
where she had so recently been sent away, worked to repair some of the damage
and ease the pain.

Driver was killed. The other two suffered major injuries and were being treated
in the same hospital but under police guard.

Sometime on the Saturday morning Paula fully wakened for the first time. A nurse
and policewoman were at her bedside. She tried to talk but words came painfully.
Nurse assured her she was going to be alright and to lie still and rest. Paula
felt very tired, very sore and very weak.

Chapter 8. Reunited

Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr. "Whose that ringing the doorbell at this hour on
a Monday morning," grumbled John. He hadn't even shaved yet.

"Major, what was Paula's other name?" Miriam sounded excited.

"Simkins. Why"

"Have you seen today's East Anglian?"

The story of Paula's rape had made the front page together with a photo of her
sitting in the hospital bed showing her gruesome injuries. "Oh my God. It's her.
I must go to see her."

In record time John drove to the hospital and enquired of the receptionist for
Paula. She is not to have visitors, police orders. This in fact was to try and
keep the press at bay and disturbance to the minimum until they were able to get
a statement from Paula. "I am Major Padham, she will see me." Despite his best
military manner the girl refused to let him know where Paula was.

"Morning Major." It was Ella a wife of one of his army friends and who had been
at the fateful party. She was a staff nurse at the hospital. "Come into my
office for a moment, Major." They walked down a long corridor and into a small
cluttered office. "I've been trying to phone you for the last half hour ever
since I came on duty and found that it was your Paula that we had here. The
receptionist was right, they are very much restricting visitors. Paula is very
depressed as well as being very very sore." Ella went to a locker and pulled out
a white overall coat. "Put this on and we may get pass the first sentries!" She
found a teaching stethoscope and hung round his neck. "This way doctor if you
please."

Nobody took any notice of a staff nurse and a doctor walking to Paula's room.
She was being kept in a room of her own with a policewoman constantly at her
bedside. A young nurse popped in regularly and was there when Ella and John
arrived. "Everything seems fine, Staff but she's still not talking much," she
told Ella as she left.

The policewoman looked up but didn't suspect anything. "Morning," She whispered.
John was only half prepared for the sight that met his eyes. The swollen cheeks,
the livid colour, the bandages and the plaster. "Oh Paula my dear, what did
those maniacs do to you?"

Partially opening her eyes, Paula murmured, "John, is that really you? Oh John,
I'm sorry. I really am sorry."

"Shush, Paula, it will be alright now. Just worry about getting better and then
I can take you home."

By this time the policewoman perceived that John wasn't a real doctor. "Who are
you?" she asked, "And what is your business here?"

"Major John Padham. Paula and I lived together until a few weeks ago when we had
a disagreement. I have searched for her ever since. And now may I ask who you
are?"

"WPC Stephanie Wallis. I have been waiting to try and get a statement to piece
together what happened to her but she has refused to say anything very much."

Ella cut in, "It might help her to get over it quicker if she would talk about
it instead of bottling it up inside. She may talk to you."

John took her good hand in his. "Paula, dear, would you like to tell me what has
happened to you since you left my house?" John realised they would have to go
slowly so he tried starting way back before the incident. Stephanie recorded it
and John slowly and skillfully wormed the details from her. Diplomacy and
interrogation had been his main job in the military. Ella left. She had work to
do. Stephanie stayed even though her relief came. She, like Paula were crying
before the end of the story. John had misty eyes although no tears came. It was
one of the saddest stories of cruelty he'd heard of including some from the
India / Pakistan war atrocities. Puzzled by why the police had turned up at that
time, Stephanie told him, "The site was patrolled at intervals by a security
firm. The security man saw light coming around the blanket and when he
investigated heard a woman scream before it was stifled. He called the police
because no one should have been in the building and he didn't want to get
involved in any rough stuff. They arrived and .... well you know the rest.
Thanks for your help Major. I'd better report back now. I'll let my relief sit
here now while I have another cry."

Paula spent Christmas in the hospital but John visited every day. He was able to
take her home before New Year but she needed months of care and physiotherapy
before she fully recovered.

John listened to her reasoning about why she left and agreed she could partake
of a glass or two of alcohol as and when she wished and if she looked like
becoming an addict he would find other alternatives to punishment. It might work
in India but it had had a disastrous effect here. Paula pointed out that since
leaving the old pub, she hadn't touched any drink. If she could refrain from it
under such difficult circumstances she could when John was around or even when
he was away on business. John's kill or cure method very nearly did kill her.



Finis

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