At the time it struck me, that the easiest way to avoid using the conventional words was to go back to a time when people were much more polite and coy, before the internet, or the telephone and when letter writing was the most likely way you would get a story off your chest.
Of course typically me, I wrote a draft, meant to go back and fix it up and see if I could make it worth entering and as per usual, I forgot all about it. Anyway, it has been sitting on my computer doing nothing for the last couple of months so I figured why not post it here, just for the craic. Enjoy (or if it bores you click the X button on the top right hand corner!)
My dearest Ann,
I have just witnessed the most frightful scene. It was so
terribly shocking that I just had to tell someone about it, I do hope you won’t
object.
I was walking in the New Forest, wandering off the paths. I
could hear some muffled mewls and I was certain it was baby animal abandoned
by its mother so I went to investigate.
A picnic rug was laid out upon the carpet of golden autumn
leaves. Atop the blanket were a handsome gentleman and a comely maiden. The
maiden was mewling because (oh I can’t believe I’m going to relate this, it
really is most shocking) said gentleman had his hand under his lady’s skirts.
I remained hidden behind some trees and watched the entire
proceedings. The gentleman removed the lady’s entire clothing, yes all. He seemed to be terribly angry at
her about something and she was quite distressed as he removed her
under-garments I heard her clearly say:
“Oh no sir, I beg your indulgence, please not those.”
Hateful beast that he was, he ignored her pleas. Once bare,
he stood her before him and scolded her so frightfully that the poor thing
began to cry. He said that it was no matter if she was totally undressed as she
had entirely lost her virtue last evening. He then tied her to a narrow tree
trunk, and I declare he whipped her. Yes whipped her, using a twig from a tree.
My, did she squeal in protest. I was becoming quite undone in my hidey-hole. I
felt flutterings and tremblings that were quite foreign to me and had to cover
my mouth lest a sound escape my lips.
When he was satisfied, I thought he would surely release her
and let her find some comfort in her clothing at least but this was not to be.
He stood back and stared at the effects of his handiwork. Her youthful mounds
were striped and crisscrossed with angry welts and she was sobbing mercilessly.
I declare, he must have been overcome with grief at his
harsh treatment of her as he proceeded to rub the wounds gently, as if trying
to soothe her. Her sobs finally began to subside as he continued his
ministrations. He seemed to lose focus as somehow his hand was no longer soothing
her scorch marks. Rather he seemed to find some cause for concern between her
legs as he started rubbing there and even going so far as to probe her with his
fingers. They seemed to disappear there, into her aperture. He was starting to
make strange groaning sounds also; he moved his fingers to his mouth whereupon
he sucked them before returning to the source of the affliction. He began to
kiss the marks quite tenderly. The lady parted her legs quite wide and I could
see those parts you should never look upon. A brown mane afforded her some
little protection from his and my gaze. She too was groaning and writhing.
Then, (and this really is quite scandalous) he removed his breeches.
I assure you I have never seen such a sight. There seemed to
be attached to his person this frightening growth coming away from the centre
of his body, surrounded by hair. It was quite incredible, fearsome yet
fascinating. Then he attacked the lady with this baton causing her considerably
more discomfort if the sounds she was making are an indication. She thrashed
her hips about but he seemed to meet her every time, thrashing her with his
weapon. You must remember she was still tied. Then as suddenly as it began,
both screamed and he fell atop her.
Even as I relate the events it has the most terrible effects
on my nerves, my hand trembles, my breathing becomes laboured and I feel this
most alarming sensation in my skirts. Most shocking indeed.
Yours affectionately,
Elizabeth
I love this! And it was kind of hot… :) Fantastic attention to detail Tara….it's lovely. I think 'thrashing her with his weapon' is my favorite piece. No wait, the baton. Maybe I'll try to use that description too…
ReplyDeleteNow get to work!
Thanks Natasha...
DeleteWill you whip me if I don't get to work...please ??? ;)
See, this is where it all falls apart. Can't punish someone who likes a spanking with a spanking… ;)
DeleteLMAO, this is a problem!
DeleteHilarious and brilliantly thought out - you should have entered! I did and the contest was lots of fun :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Christina,
DeleteI meant to enter, I just got caught up in my final edits for Mastering Maeve and forgot all about it. And to tell the truth, short stories are not my forte as I need far too many words with my tendancy to be verbose.
LOL, so cute! You tell such a good story even without using dirty words. Although aperture sounds quite dirtier than some other words to me for some reason. I don't know why. I also liked that he had a baton. Cracked me up! You have such a gift :)
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks Casey.
DeleteI know what you mean about aperture...often the more coy words seem naughtier, maybe it's because we give our imagination free reign.