The English adventures of Delia continue. The subject is adult oriented. Read it forward only if you are 18 years old or more.
The woman was pacing nervously the room in the crepuscular evening light. She was shuffling her soft slippers on the ancient parquet flooring as if she wanted to polish it and make it shine. Matt was seated in the armchair where she had ordered him to take place with his ship on his lap, unresolved to handle it.
«A transgression is a transgression.»
Said the woman, moving from the nightstand to the foot of the bed, for the third time. Once she reached the ottoman placed there, she patted her little foot on the floor and turned to walk again to the bed head.
«On the other side, I am the lawmaker, therefore I can’t be subject to my own rules. Right?»
At those words, she raised her head proudly.
«Yet…» And she moved again towards the ottoman.
As for Matt, he was even more messed up than his mistress. His Lady had never shown herself to anyone in her loungewear, probably not even to her maids. The Lady had always received him in her black horse riding attire. Most of the times, she personally reached him at the stables or in the fields and she had never asked him to join her in her private apartments. Only once, Matt had caught her in her evening dress. She was reading a book, seated close to the balustrade of the main balcony, so distant and haughty.
In that moment, though, she was pacing in front of him in a brocade dressing gown which was opened above a thin white linen nightgown. Her shiny hair was tangled in a long, loose braid, which started at the back of her head, moved on her shoulder and then ended at the height of the Lady’s breast, free to move under the wide nightgown. Her naked feet quivered inside the black felt slippers. She was all beautiful to Matt, who could not stop thinking about that morning when he had taken her on the riverbank. Until she asked him to reach her in her rooms, he wasn’t sure, but now her clothes and her behaviour made him think her relationship had changed forever. What she wanted from him, though? That nervous pacing the floor was maybe the prelude to a new game?
«I am the judge…»
«Milady, what is that is tormenting you?»
Shouted the woman looking at the ceiling, and she stopped her furious walking.
«Do you ask what torments me? The lack of respect, of discipline! The sloppiness, the… the filth!»
«Are you referring to me, my magnanimous Lady?»
The woman’s eyes inspected the guy’s face sharply, but only for a moment. Soon something diverted her attention.
«No Matt, – said the woman, even if she seemed unsure about the fact the young man had done nothing to be ashamed of, that day – No, Matt. Today I have no time for your slip-ups. The real issue is that… – she looked at her feet for inspiration – I failed.»
«Did you fail? How?»
«I failed to my duties, Matt. This morning, I… this morning I failed to all my duties and I wasted my time until afternoon was over. I…»
She seemed to be on the verge of tears.
«Maybe you were busy something better…»
The woman raised up her eyes, flashing poor Matt, who had hoped to get back to that morning activities down to the river.
«Duty comes first!»
«Yes, my Lady.»
«I mus admit, though, that what diverted my attention could be of some importance. If only I could remember what it was.»
If the Lady had looked at Matt’face, instead of pointing her eyes to the ceiling, maybe looking for some inspiration from the little angels painted on the vault, she would have shout to him to close his mouth and set the tone, instead of staying there goggling at her with his jaw wide open. The poor fella’ had his reasons, because to him few things could win over a joyous coitus down the river. Yet, he found a way to spit some words.
«So, you are telling that you don’t know what distracted you this morning?»
«Yes, it’s precisely what I am telling you since you came here! I stood still at the table, watching at all my papers not able to focus on them and when Idol came in the dining room asking for his tea, it was already afternoon.»
Matt’s heart skipped a beat, while shame flooded up with the blood along his neck, his cheeks and his forehead, by now as red as wine.
«Do you have a witness?»
«What sort of barbarian are you? My word doesn’t need a witness! Be sure I would have been glad not having Theresa staring at me all the time, while she was standing behind me, waiting to withdraw the mail of the day and the dirty breakfast tray. I suffered a cramp in my shoulder for the tension of knowing that she was there, witnessing my failure.»
«It is really sad.»
«Oh, don’t tell me. I know I disappointed you so much. I’ve failed myself and all my loyal subjects. The citrus grow could have fallen into chaos!»
The woman covered her face with her hands in shame and threw herself at the knees of her devoted manservant, grasping Matt’s hand, which were still on the whip handle.
«For certain I must be punished. You’ll do it, right? Will you do it for me?»
She said this grasping his hands trembling and looking at him with imploring eyes. Her cheeks were blushing for the shame. Her sweet lips were shaking and here eyes were wet and ready to break into a cry. Matt gulped his saliva. Maybe the girl at the river, that morning, was her, maybe she wasn’t, but currently there was no doubt about what was going to happen. His Lady had been a naughty girl and was now begging him to punish her, using a silly and bad constructed excuse.
«And will you accept your punishment as good girls do?»
«What is this tone of familiarity?»
«You asked me to be punished, after all…»
The woman, who had never appeared to him frailer than this, bit her rosy lips.
«As I said: will you accept your punishment as good girls do?»
She nodded and a couple of hair strands fell away from the soft braid caressing on Matt’s leg. He felt his trousers becoming tighter on the groyne. He tried to move her delicate hands onto that part, but only the whip touched it. The woman looked at it.
«I think a couple of blows will be enough.»
«I can go on all the night long if you want.»
«A couple of blows will be enough. We can’t stay up late. Tomorrow, at an early hour, you should be on the road with me. I need answers.»
«Allright, but if you prefer just a couple blows, you should wet the whip first.» Said him licking his lips, anticipating.
«Better not. If we soak the whip it will leave a scar. A pair of blows with the dry whip, onto the clothes, will be enough.»
She stood up, ready. Matt wasn’t ready at all.
«A pair of what? Onto what?» He threw the whip on the floor in frustration. He had been so dumb thinking that all that dramatic chatting might lead again to some sex with the Lady. He was so frustrated he didn’t even want to argue. But the woman was looking at him, demanding an explanation.
«I can’t beat you with this thing. A whiplash with this and your skin will split open.»
«Oh, be serious. When I beat you, I’ve never hurt you that much.»
«I don’t mean to offend you, milady, but you hurt less than a kitten. If I’d use that thing on you, even in the most delicate way, I’ll hurt you seriously and tomorrow you won’t be able to ride a horse.»
«Oh, I see. But I should be punished.»
«Oh, you will! If you consent, It will be my pleasure to punish you as I like.»
And that said, Matt grasped the woman by her braid and dragged her to lay with her belly on his knees. He felt aroused and frustrated at the same time. Upon remembering his morning, he raised the woman’s dressing gown over her head, discovering the paper-like layer of her nightgown, under which, her bare naked butt was leaping, rebellious to his rude treatment.
«I don’t allow you to touch me. Stop immediat…»
A resonant slap on her butt took her breath away. After a gasp of sheer surprise and shock, the Lady was going to speak again, but a second hard slap silenced her once more. Then, Matt raised up on his feet, sending her rolling on the carpet beside her bed. The punishment had been inflicted.
«I stop here because tomorrow you should be on your saddle .»
Without listening to the hysterical screams of the Lady, Matt O’Sycophant left his mistress private rooms, moving towards his bedroom a lot less satisfied that he had dreamt. The morning after, at the stables, none of the two wanted to chat. When Theresa arrived from the kitchen with the supplies for their journey, she sensed something odd. Matt was harnessing the horses without whistling and the Lady wasn’t doing any remark. She seemed to be completely absorbed into staring at her shiny boots, while her face was going redder by the moment.
They rode for the entire morning and the better part of the afternoon. They dismounted once a to eat something around tea time and stopped a couple of times to check the map, later on. But none of them spoke a word. The sun had gone when a small inn appeared in sight, and Matt pointed it with its hand. The Lady nodded her approval and they reached it. Matt dismounted, offered his help to the Lady, and, it was then, that she looked at him, and before moving towards the hands he was offering, she said: «Thank you.»
The morning after, Matt prepared the horses whistling as usual, but still no one dared to speak for the entire day. On the third day of travel, though, they exchanged their ideas on the weather and the Lady asked Matt about the blossoming of the citrus flowers. When, in the evening, they arrived at the town which was their final destination, the Lady pulled her hood down over her eyes and gestured Matt not to follow her. The man turned his horse and tied it at an inn close by. She nodded and led her animal towards an isolated house at the end of the road, which the locals knew as the house of the wizard Xavier Lex Axenior.