Over dinner Pilar recounted several entertaining encounters with other people, including one girl Pilar referred to as the 'North Carolina slut', a girl of their acquaintance who, not yet out of her twenties, had had several husbands, a series of children by different men, and a string of d/s relationships. Pilar and Aidan had played with her; Aidan admitted she was cute, but both had ultimately wearied of her compulsion to go behind everyone's back and play fast and loose with the rules of sexual etiquette. This girl had a blog, which recounted in detail her long affair with an older man who subjected her to severe whippings and eventually introduced her to his long-suffering wife, who was obliged to engage with the 'NC slut' even though, reading between the lines, it was clear she had no desire to do so. I rather think that Pilar intended the 'NC slut' to function as a warning to Beth as to the proper behaviour expected of a submissive girl engaged in relationships with multiple partners. Being used by many is not incompatible with being an honourable person; the general rules of civilised behaviour apply no less to the kinky.
Back at the house, Aidan took charge. He was in the mood to take full advantage of Beth's status as an owned girl lent to him and Pilar for the duration of her stay. He ordered Beth to strip. Pilar watched as he put Beth up against the wall, hands up, back arched, bottom presented outwards.
'Don't move,' he said. 'I'm going to give you a thrashing.'
Beth looked a little apprehensive. Of course she'd been thrashed before, sometimes with a vigour that made me wince. But she didn't know Aidan as she knew Matthew, didn't know what he was capable of.
She was about to find out. Aidan took off his belt and bent it double. Measuring the distance carefully, he lashed the belt across Beth's rump. She squealed. Aidan raised his arm and lashed her again, accurately across the centre of her behind. Beth hopped from one foot to the other.
'Keep still,' said Aidan.
'But it hurts,' Beth whined.
'Of course it hurts,' Aidan said, and struck her again. There were red welts already across her white bottom. Aidan beat her with a steady rhythm, Beth doing her best to keep her position, even though the belt stung her severely. Perhaps she hadn't suspected Aidan was capable of handing out such strict discipline. In New York he'd been nice to her, using her for his pleasure but not in any aggressive way. Now he seemed determined to impose his will, to indulge his desire for physical domination to the full. The thrashing went on for a long time. Beth bore it bravely; that was, after all, what she had been trained to do. But the tears were welling up as her bottom took on a darker and darker shade of pink. Beth glanced aside at Pilar, who sat impassively watching. She must have wondered if Pilar derived a special pleasure from this. Did she get a thrill from seeing a pretty and submissive girl given a real going-over? Or was she simply submissive to her husband, content that he should have his way?
As the belt continued to lash against Beth's bruised and battered bottom, she glanced once more at Pilar, perhaps hoping that she might intercede and call a halt. Beth was just about at the limit of her tolerance. She is a girl who gets pleasure from pain, if administered by an authoritative man, in the right manner at the right time. And Aidan was nothing if not a figure of authority. But even so, she had her limits, and they were fast approaching.
At last Pilar spoke. 'Poor Beth,' she said. 'Say thank you to the nice man for your spanking.'
'Thank you, sir,' Beth said, choking back a sob.
Pilar took Beth up to the bedroom and gently spread some arnica cream on her burning behind. Then she slid her hand between Beth's legs, while Aidan watched. Beth was very wet, proof that she had enjoyed her beating. Pilar manipulated her, finger-fucking her and licking her clit while Aidan knelt over her and fed Beth his cock. Shortly after Beth came with a loud cry, Aidan ejaculated on her face. I don't know if Pilar herself got an orgasm before they all fell asleep.
The next day was Sunday. Aidan and Pilar took Beth out to brunch. She was in a sundress, with, I remember her telling me, no knickers once again. Since the dress was quite short, she was in some trepidation that a gust of wind might reveal her secret, but of course that was the point; Pilar enjoyed keeping Beth on her toes, uncertain of what shameful sexual act might come next.
When they got back to the house, Pilar took charge. 'You have a very pleasing voice, Beth,' she said.
Beth beamed with pleasure.
'I should so like you to read to us.' Pilar went and found a book of poetry, by the English Romantics, I believe. She handed Beth the book and told her to take off her dress and bra. Beth sat naked on a piano stool opposite Aidan and Pilar.
'Don't cross your legs, Beth,' Pilar said. 'Keep them open for us.'
Beth began to read. It makes an appealing image in my mind's eye as I think of it now, the naked young girl, reading earnestly to the couple who were acting as proxy for Matthew and me, her owners.
After the reading, there was another swim, naked of course. The bruises on Beth's bottom from her beating the night before were plainly visible. After the swim there was a further visit to the hot tub, in which both Pilar and Aidan made free with Beth, touching her as they wished, and having her touch them too. After that they all had a little sleep; then it was time for dinner. Pilar told Beth they would dine at home again, and that she, Beth, would be naked except for the high heels that Pilar had bought for her. While Beth was upstairs putting on her make-up, Pilar came into the room.
'I have a little something extra for you this evening,' she said. From a drawer she produced a large silicone butt-plug and a tube of lubricant. Pilar made Beth lie across her lap, face down, while she worked some lube up inside Beth's bottom. I have no doubt Beth found this extremely humiliating. Matthew had used her anally from time to time, and I remember pushing my finger up inside her bottom one afternoon, curious to see how she would respond (she had blushed a deep shade of red). But I don't recall that she had ever had to submit to a butt-plug. When Beth was sufficiently lubricated, Pilar slowly pushed the plug up inside her. It was, as I say, a large one; 'eye-wateringly large', as Beth told me later. She wasn't used to it; she found it intrusive, even uncomfortable, but Pilar seemed none too concerned about this, wishing only to have a little submissive girl under her thumb. And perhaps she saw it as revenge for the humiliation Pilar had herself endured when Aidan had made her wear a plug in Beth's presence in New York.
Before she went back downstairs to attend to dinner, Pilar decorated Beth's body a little more. She brushed blusher onto her nipples, turning them a lovely deep pink, and then carefully painted the lips of her sex with lipstick. Beth protested that this made her look like a whore.
Pilar laughed. 'You're not a whore. We aren't paying you!'
At dinner, Beth sat between Aidan and Pilar. They gave her their full attention, constantly plying her with questions, largely of a highly personal, sexual nature ('when did Matthew last fuck you? In which orifice?'), designed to emphasise her status, as an object of sexual curiosity, and as a plaything. At one point, just before dessert was served, Pilar told Beth to crawl under the table and suck Aidan's cock. This she did, enthusiastically, until ice cream was served.
Beth liked men. She knew she was sexually fascinating to them, and she played up to it. And she prided herself on her bedroom skills, her ability to come on command, her ability to bring a man to orgasm with her lips and tongue, her ability to excite them with the prospect of sexually dominating her. After dinner, Pilar, who had now firmly assumed the role of master of ceremonies, orchestrating Beth's actions largely to give Aidan pleasure, took Beth upstairs to the bedroom.
'It's a pity he's not allowed to fuck you, dear,' Pilar told Beth. 'I'd so much like to see his nice big cock rammed into your tight little cunt until you beg for mercy. We'll have to do something else instead.'
While Aidan watched, Beth was tied down on the bed, her wrists and ankles pinioned to the bed posts. From a drawer Pilar took a large pink dildo. She pushed it up inside Beth's cunt. Now the girl was penetrated fron
t and back, the butt-plug still lodged firmly in place. Pilar also produced a pair of steel nipple clamps. These were clipped onto Beth's painted nipples. Then Pilar pushed a vibrator against Beth's clit and switched on. It took Beth about a minute to come. Pilar switched off the machine. She went over to where Aidan sat watching. She went down on her knees, took out his cock and sucked it for several minutes while Beth watched from the bed.
Pilar stood up. 'Wouldn't you like that cock in you? But you can't have it. I'm going to have it when I'm ready, or when Aidan is ready. Until then, I'm going to make you come and come and come.'
Which is exactly what she did? Poor Beth (I say 'poor Beth'; perhaps some of my readers might be wishing themselves in her position?) was forced into one orgasm after another by Pilar's relentless vibrator. At last Pilar took pity, after Beth had come perhaps seven or eight times. She got on the bed and knelt over Beth, facing her feet, her hips just above Beth's face. Aidan knelt behind Pilar and pushed his cock into her. Beth's face was almost touching Aidan's groin.
'Lick his balls while he fucks me, little slut,' Pilar said. 'If you don't do it good he'll take his belt to you again.'
Beth lifted up her head and began to lick and suck Aidan's balls as his cock went in and out of Pilar. Just before he came he pulled out and spilled his semen onto Beth's face. Pilar turned round as Aidan got off, positioning herself right above Beth's face.
'Now lick me till I come,' she told Beth.
At last the three were exhausted. The next morning Beth was due to return from her all too short visit. Pilar would drive her to the airport. But before they left, there was time for one last ritual act of domination. Beth had her bags packed and was dressed for the journey, in jeans and a shirt. Pilar sat in a large armchair in the main room.
'Come here,' she said to Beth.
Beth approached rather nervously.
'Stand there,' Pilar said, pointing to a spot just in front of her.
Beth inched towards her. Pilar leaned forward and undid the button at the waist of Beth's jeans. Then she unzipped them and pulled them down to her knees. Underneath Beth wore a small pair of cotton knickers. These too were pulled down.
'Over my knee,' said Pilar, in a voice that could not be denied.
Beth bent over Pilar's knee. Beside her, Pilar had a hairbrush. She picked it up and began to spank Beth, the wooden side downwards. I don't know if you have ever been spanked by a hairbrush. It looks like an innocuous object. But I can assure you that properly wielded it can deliver quite an impact. Pilar's was a large, heavy brush, and she wielded it with determination. This was her last chance to give Beth something to remember her by. Beth's bottom still showed the bruises she had received from Aidan's spanking with his belt, and indeed she was still tender. As Pilar brought the brush down on her, over and over again, with firm, even severe, strokes, Beth wriggled about and made little noises of protest, noises which, of course, fell on deaf ears.
At last Pilar set the brush down. She stroked Beth's smarting behind.
'You've been a good girl,' she said. 'We shall give your owners a glowing report.'
'Thank you,' said Beth, getting to her feet and rubbing her bottom. 'I've had a lovely time.'
During the time that Beth had been away, Matthew had monitored her closely. There had been frequent phone calls. I had the impression Matthew was anxious. I don't know if he seriously thought that Pilar and Aidan would try to alienate Beth's affections away from us; they never showed the slightest inclination to do such a thing, in my view. But Matthew's behaviour was not entirely the product of a rational assessment of the facts. He simply wasn't at ease with Beth seeing other men.
It was shortly before Beth went on her visit that Matthew had conceived of a rather strange project. He told me that he wanted to 'revirginalise' her. His theory was that Beth's sexual development had gone wrong somewhere, which was why she always chose unsuitable men (apart from him, of course). What he thought was that if he could take her back to the beginning, before she became a sexual being at all, he could then control her future development. To this end he decided to stop having sex with her; that is to say, for the time being he wouldn't fuck her any more, though occasionally he made her perform other kinds of sexual service, a hand-job or sometimes a blow-job. Quite why such acts would not sully her 'virgin' status was not quite clear to me, but perhaps other people (and not only Bill Clinton) are better able than I to make a rigid distinction between 'having sex' (i.e. intercourse), and performing sexual acts.
So this 'explains' why there was to be no fucking when Beth went to New Orleans, and there was to be no fucking with boyfriends either. Beth was to be kept pure and virginal, presumably until such time as Matthew decided to 'deflower' her. Unfortunately, Matthew's powers of self-discipline were not strong enough to maintain the programme in its full rigour. On her return from New Orleans he felt the need to reclaim her. The first night, he took her in the bedroom. I followed, largely out of curiosity. He stripped her of her clothes and more or less threw her onto the bed. She looked a little scared as she watched him undress. I saw how hard his cock was. He got on top of her and rammed himself into her, without the least bit of foreplay. Beth grunted as he furiously pounded his cock into her. At one point she turned her head towards me, as if to say, what's going on, why is he doing this? She didn't look as if she was enjoying it much, but Matthew cared not a jot for that.
Matthew came in her with a groan and rolled away. Beth lay on the bed, looking rather bedraggled. Then Matthew got up. Before he went to the bathroom he told Beth she was to sleep on the floor, in the corner of the room. I went to find her a blanket and some kind of mattress for her to sleep on. I felt sorry for her; he was treating her as if she had done something wrong, which of course she had not.
The 'revirginalisation' programme continued as if nothing had happened. The following week Beth was somewhat grudgingly allowed another date with Gavin, with the proviso that intercourse still was forbidden. But things were soon to unravel.
Chapter Ten
I have reached the point in this memoir where I need to bring about some sort of closure, partly because every story needs a beginning, a middle and an end, and partly for my own reasons. I need, as far as I am able, to make sense of what happened with Beth. It's all over now, and yet, at the same time, there is resonance. I am not quite the same person I was before Beth came into my life.
After Beth's visit to New Orleans, things changed. Matthew seemed to resent her need for other people, especially other men, and at the same time Beth began to challenge him more. She's the kind of person who can never let anything be. Any supposed slight, any failing on someone else's part, any lessening of the level of attention she felt was her due, would be argued over, constantly, endlessly. Her blog, of course, was the perfect platform on which she could bemoan the wrongs done to her, and remind readers of her own blameless conduct.
Perhaps I sound harsh and uncharitable. Why on earth should I have hitched myself to Beth's wagon if I felt this way about her? But of course I didn't feel like that at the beginning. And not all the time, even at the end. She has great qualities. She's very attractive, physically. She can be charming, and funny, and cute. And she's a smart girl; always a major plus point for me. I don't say all the faults were on her side; probably, we were simply incompatible. But what I could never forget was the fact that she was being fucked by my husband. We all thought we were very modern and broad-minded and adventurous, and compared to the narrow and rigid sex lives lived by most people, we were. But the jealousy never quite went away. And as time went on, and Matthew seemed to develop what I can only call an obsession with Beth, I found it harder and harder to live in the way we were trying to live.
I could see that Matthew was struggling too. Having as he thought established total control over Beth at an early stage; he could now see her slipping away from him. The enthusiasm with which she flew off to New Orleans hurt him, and his constant stream of phone calls to Beth while sh
e was away, checking up on her, was indicative of his unease. When she got back she was eager to pursue her relationship with Gavin. When she announced that she had a date with him, Matthew tried to talk to her about taking it slowly, about being sure before things went too far. But I think Beth sensed what the real problem was, that Matthew was trying to prevent her having sex with Gavin. Being the sort of girl she was, nothing was more likely to fill Beth with a burning desire to fuck Gavin as soon as she could, than the knowledge that Matthew was trying to prevent it. Yes, in theory she was still owned by Matthew (and by me, though by now I was a nominal proprietor only). But she no longer saw that as an insuperable obstacle. If necessary, she would simply ignore Matthew's rules.
Inevitably, this led to a blazing row. Matthew permitted her to go on a date, but made it clear once more that there should be no intercourse. The next night after her date, Beth came to our apartment. We sat around our kitchen table and Matthew proceeded with what amounted to a formal interrogation. Where had they gone to dinner? What had they talked about? What happened after dinner? Where did they go? And then we got to the crux of the matter.
The Owned Girl Page 14
