Raped on the Railway

HOW A WIFE WAS THRASHED

Man demands unconditional fidelity from his wife, but does not concede to her the right to demand the same from him. When she forgets herself, she has committed a deadly sin, whose lightest penalty is public contempt; when he does the same, he has only been guilty, of a charming little lapse from duty for which the law has no penalty, at which society smiles discreetly and good-naturedly, and which the wife pardons with tears and caresses if she took it seriously in the first place. And the unfairness of this dual standard is increased by the circumstance that in reality it is not the same whether the husband or the wife is guilty of infidelity: for if the wife sins, she is passive in the matter — led astray by a man, that is, a power independent of her will; she succumbs to a force which is stronger than her powers of resistance; but when the husband sins he is not passive; he sins because he wishes to sin; there are very few Josephs outside of the Bible, and the wife of Potiphar is a rarity; the man takes the initiative in sin, he goes in quest of it, and commits it with concentrated purpose and premeditation, with energy and in spite of the resistance offered to him.

The excitement and revulsion of feeling had been so great, that Brandon felt so hot and stifled that he could scarcely breathe. The first thing he did on entering the bedroom was to lock the door, and then he hastily threw off his dress-suit and boots.

Maud stood in the middle of the room, and gazed at him with a half-terrified expression. “You are not going to kill me?” she asked in frightened tones.

“No, I am not,” he replied, “though you richly deserve it.” He stopped in front of her and looked at her dress. “I suppose your lover paid for that,” he said; “take it off at once.”

She did not obey at once, and he roughly stripped off her dress and all other garments except her stockings and shoes. He then went into his dressing room and returned with a long piece of rope, which he securely fastened round one of her wrists. Then he made her put one arm on each side of the bed-post and fastened both wrists together. She looked at him appealingly, but did not venture to resist. He fetched a handkerchief, and tied it securely over her mouth to prevent her screams being heard. Finally he opened a cupboard, and hesitated for some time whether he should select a riding whip, a Malacca cane, or a leather strap, — for it need not be said that having never anticipated that he would need a birch rod, he had never supplied himself with that valuable adjunct to the happiness of married life. He at last decided upon the leather strap; and having picked it up, he returned to Maud, who was sobbing as loudly as her gagged condition would permit.

“Now, Maud, I am going to flog some of the lust out of you,” said Brandon.

He passed his hand over her smooth, white, firm, well-rounded buttocks. Like most English husbands he had never seen his wife naked, but he had seen many naked models in his studio, and they had never caused any lascivious thoughts in his mind, nor did Maud's charms now, though they would have tempted a saint to break his vow of chastity.

Brandon had nothing on but his shirt and drawers. He rolled his shirt sleeves up to the elbow, and then raising his arm, he brought the strap down smartly on the left cheek of Maud's splendid bottom. It instantly flushed a rosy red, and Maud writhed her beautiful body in pain, and tried to scream, but she was so effectually gagged that only a hoarse groan escaped her. Again the strap rose and fell, and Maud's right buttock blushed as rosily as its sister.

Brandon continued to deal his strokes methodically, and at each blow a broad white band appeared on the pink surface, and then disappeared, and Maud twisted and wriggled her bottom about, and sometimes she would open her legs and show the “spot” for a moment, and then her quivering thighs would close again and shut out the charming spectacle, and her feet would jump off the floor with pain.

Maud's struggles at last caused the handkerchief that gagged her to fall to the ground, and she screamed out, “For mercy's sake undo me. Enough! I'll do nothing bad again.” Her pleadings only made him more determined, and with a swish in the air he again brought the strap down, making her twist about with fear and shame.

“You hussy,” said her husband, “I'll make you drag my name through the mud and get me laughed at. Take that and that,” and then, seizing the whip, in his anger he struck her several smart blows where the strap had already fallen leaving large weals to mark its fierce passage.

Maud was a grandly made woman, and the contortions of her body as she skipped from side to side to avoid the fast-descending blows would have made an anchorite rage with lust. No man can witness the finely modeled arse of a lovely woman plunging about before his eyes without undergoing certain physiological changes, even though that woman brought him serious wrong. We are after all only flesh and blood, as the omniscient Gladstone once said under vastly different circumstances, in the English House of Commons. This scene of domestic correction was once more to prove the truth of that very trite adage.

Brandon became aware that a curious psychological change was being effected in him, and that his feelings towards his erring wife had radically changed. He had resolved that he would never touch her again after she had so cruelly deceived him. He would sue for a divorce, and until that was procured he would never occupy the same bed with her, but before the strap had fallen for the sixth time he began to think how beautiful she was, and to remember how often he had pressed her fair body in those love battles in which each had been the conqueror, and each delighted to be the vanquished. He determined not to give way to these tender thoughts, and only remember her heartlessness and deceit, and four times more did the strap descend upon her bottom, but though it quivered and trembled at each blow, Maud no longer wriggled as she had done, and did not attempt to scream.

He was afraid that she had fainted, and throwing down the strap, he looked anxiously at her face. She had not fainted, in fact her face was suffused with a beautiful blush, and her eyes which glittered strangely, were fixed on some object. He followed their direction, and saw that his tool had come through the opening of his drawers and was standing in all the magnificence of a full erection.

“Poor little woman,” he thought to himself, “how she would like to have that in her belly, and how much I should like to put it there, but I cannot honourably do so now. At all events, I won't beat her any more.”

He removed the handkerchief which gagged her, and expected that the first use she made of her tongue would be to overwhelm him with abuse and recriminations, but to his surprise, as soon as the gag was removed she said:

“Make haste and undo me, darling.”

He quickly unfastened the cord, and she stood upright and faced him. He thought he had never seen her look so lovely. Her body quivered with excitement and her eyes gleamed with lust. Her magnificent breasts rose and fell beneath her panting breath.

“Oh, Robert, how I love you!” she cried.

She sprang towards him and threw her right arm round his neck. She pressed her warm sensuous lips to his, and darted her tongue into his mouth. At the same instant she gripped his tool with her left hand, and threw herself back on the bed. The movement was so sudden and unexpected that he lost his footing and fell with her, and before he had time to think of what she was doing, she had pressed the head of his prick between the gaping lips of her coynte, and thrown her legs round his thighs.

Brandon had determined never to forgive her, but when a man's breast is being pressed by a pair of the largest and softest bubbies in the world, when a pretty woman's tongue is in his mouth, and a charming coynte is eagerly sucking in his hot and burning tool, resolves of that sort do not count for much. Brandon did what any vigorous young man would have done under similar circumstances and putting his arms round her waist, with one powerful lunge, he buried his resentment and the whole of his tool in Maud's heaving belly.

Maud, as we have already said, was a magnificent creature, and though Brandon was furnished with an instrument which would have terrified many a woman, she met every one of his strong lunges with an upheaval of her buttocks which were still burning with the lust created by the beneficent strap, and not until she felt his purse against the lips of her coynte did she cease to press forward. They lay motionless, and as in a swoon, until the warm life-giving fluid bathed their whole being in a flood of ecstatic delight. Then her limbs relaxed, and Brandon withdrew his now limp tool, and rolled off her.

He dreamily watched Maud get out of bed, and go and wash herself, and take off her shoes and stockings which she had still worn when he flogged her.

When she had finished, she came and stood by the side of the bed, and looked down at him roguishly.

“Bob, dear,” she said, “do you forgive me?”

“I suppose I must,” he replied. “I didn't intend to, but you have such taking ways.

She laughed. “You see I can take all you have to give me, and as often as you like. In fact I should like a bit more now if you are ready to give it me, but I suppose you will want tickling up a little before you are ready.”

She put her hand inside the opening of his drawers and laid hold of his tool.

“Oh, this will never do,” she said laughingly. “Why it is all limp like a big worm. Get out of bed at once, sir, and let me put you into the proper condition to present yourself before a lady.

He obeyed her and jumped off the bed.

“First let us have this nasty shirt off,” she said, and her nimble fingers began to undo his collar. “You finish that,” she continued, “whilst I go to the bathroom to fetch some warm water, and remember that when I come back I shall expect to find you stripped, quite stripped. Do you hear, Bob?”

She slipped on a black silk dressing-gown, and taking the candle, left the room.

Poor Brandon felt in a rather difficult position. Not an hour ago he had determined to cast off his wife and never see her again, and yet almost as soon as he had made that resolution, he had rogered her, and he was bound to confess that he had never enjoyed a futter so much in his life.

Indeed, though she had only gone out of the room for a minute, he longed for her to return and conduct him once more to pleasures such as he had never believed mortals could enjoy.

He heard her footsteps returning. “She mustn't find me like this,” he said to himself, and he quickly threw off his shirt and drawers and stood quite naked. “It's all your fault,” he added looking down at the limp tool dangling between his legs; “you can't let a slit come near you but what you must plunge into it headlong, and a nice fool you've made your master look in consequence. I don't know that I can blame you for it though, for you gave me a great deal of pleasure, and, in fact, if you like to begin again I don't think I should scold you. But you don't look fit at present.”

“I haven't been long, have I?” said Maud as she entered the room, “but I was obliged to get some warm water, for with cold I should never have got my dear little friend to put his head up. Ah, I see you have done as I told you. That's right! Now come here and let me see to you,” and she poured some warm water into a basin, and kneeling on the carpet in front of her husband, she washed his tool and dried it with a soft towel.

“Oh, Maud,” cried Brandon, “I don't like to see you doing this.”

“Why not?” she replied. “It worked so well for me just now that I'm sure it deserves a little attention. Look! it's half stiff already. What a nice, tight purse you have, Bob. You know the story of the blind girl who asked if that didn't go in too? Well! I really believed just now that yours was going in. I know I tried my best to get it in.”

“I know you did, darling, and so did I,” replied Brandon. “But I wish for your sake that it was a purse of money.”

“It is better than money, Bob,” said Maud. “I am not going to be extravagant any more except in one respect.

“And what is that?” he asked.

“Why I am going to make you spend — that is the proper word too — all that you have in this purse,” — and she weighed it in her hand — “on me — literally on me.”

“Oh, Maud, you are a duck,” cried Brandon. “I am so sorry I beat you just now.”

“On the contrary I am very glad,” said Maud. “You did not hurt me much, and it is nearly well now. Look,” and she threw off her dressing gown, and stooping down showed her bottom, from which the marks had disappeared, but which was still of a bright pink colour which afforded a pretty contrast to the dazzling white of her back and thighs. “No, I didn't ask you to touch it, sir, and least of all to put your hand between my legs. Besides, you silly boy, didn't you know that there is nothing makes a woman so randy as a good flogging, and nothing so much excites a man as flogging a woman or seeing her flogged? If it had not been for that beating I should never have had the best rogering you have ever given me, and which I think, sir,” she continued mischievously, “you enjoyed quite as much as I did.”

“I have heard about it before,” said Brandon, “but I must say I never believed in it. Besides, a man would be a brute who would flog a woman every time he wanted to get into her, and let her have all the pain whilst he had all the pleasure.”

“Oh, but there's a better way,” said Maud, “by which a man and a girl can halve the pain and double the pleasure.

“And what is that?” he asked.

“Why, though it makes a man stand to see a woman receive a flogging, it gives him a still stronger erection when he gets a few cuts on his own bottom.”

“Well,” said Brandon with a laugh, “I don't think I've had my bottom flogged since I was a schoolboy, but it is but fair that I should be served with the same sauce as I served you, so if you'd like to try the effect of a few cuts on my backside, blaze away little woman, but I warn you that I don't believe in your method.

Maud smiled. “At any rate I shall take precautions,” and she placed two pillows, one on the top of the other in the centre of the bed. “At any rate too you must acknowledge that your present condition is not satisfactory,” and she pointed to his tool which was quite limp. “Now then, Bob dear, put your head against the side of the bed.”

Brandon obeyed, and Maud picked up the strap and brought it down smartly across his buttocks.

“Oh, I say,” ejaculated her husband, “that stings more than I thought it would. I don't like it.”

“Screw your courage up, and don't be afraid. I won't hurt you more than I can help, and won't give you a cut more than is necessary.”

A second time the strap descended, and wielded as it was by Maud's vigorous arm, it made Brandon jump about, and at a third he could not suppress an oath. Maud put her arm round under his belly and felt his tool.

“It doesn't seem to have had any effect as yet,” she said.

“Of course not,” replied her husband testily; “what is the use of hurting me for nothing?”

Maud made no reply but brought the strap down three times more, and again slipped her hand under his belly.

“It is nearly stiff now,” she cried, “a couple more will do it.”

Twice more she brought down the strap, and then quickly skipped out of his way, as Brandon stood upright, faced round with his magnificent engine boldly rearing its huge red head, and tried to grasp her. With a merry laugh she ran quickly round the bed, and with one bound she was lying on it. She had barely time to place her bottom on the pillows, and stretch open her arms and legs before Brandon had thrown himself on the top of her, and had levelled his dart at her love-nest. The mark was easy enough to hit, and in another moment her arms and legs were clasped round him and he was driving into her with long strokes, each of which caused her to give a grunt of pleasure.

The strokes grew shorter but Maud met every heave of his powerful loins unflinchingly, and with her hands grasping the cheeks of his still smarting bottom and her firm white muscular legs crossed over the back of his thighs, she pressed him so tightly that the whole of his enormous engine was buried up to the roots, and still her insatiable coynte was unsatisfied.

“Tell me when you're coming, darling,” she whispered, “and we'll both go off together.”

“Now! Now!” he cried half a minute later, and Maud, letting go his bottom, clasped her long white arms round his back, and met every one of his short sharps digs with a furious wriggle of her bottom.

The two splendid bodies seemed melted into one, so closely were they united. Then a long shivering spasm passed through them, and Brandon rolled off breathless and exhausted, his neck bleeding from a bite which Maud's sharp little teeth had inflicted in the supreme moment.

After resting for a minute or two, he got out of bed and washed himself, and then picking up the candle which had been left burning, he came to the bed and gazed down at Maud. She had not moved since he got off her, and was lying, with her eyes closed in a half swoon of ecstatic pleasure. The two pillows which she had thoughtfully placed to raise her buttocks, gave a graceful curve to her lithe while body. Her arms were thrown above her head, and her thighs were still wide apart. The light of the candle fell on the golden hair under her armpits, on the red nipples, which surmounted her two big, soft breasts, and on the forest which covered her well-developed mount of Venus, beneath which could be seen the half open pink “big lips” of her vulva, still moist with the love stream which Brandon had shot into her.

“If I could only paint her like that, what a splendid picture it would be!” he said to himself. He put his head between her thighs, and gently kissed the place which had given him so much pleasure. She opened her eyes and smiled at him sweetly.

“What! not satisfied yet, you bad boy?” she said. “And kissing my poor little quim in that hypocritical manner after knocking her about and then flooding her. But she is a good fighter, and you will find her ready to meet your champion as often as he can get ready for the battle.”

She got off the bed and limped to the wash-stand, “You have stretched me so much with that big machine of yours that you have made me quite lame,” she said.

“Yes, I was afraid it would hurt you!” said Brandon, “I have never poked you like that since we were married.

“Well, that wasn't my fault,” she replied laughingly. “It was always there ready for you. But you are like all the men. They think that if they give their wives dresses and jewellery that is all we want, and if once a week they give us a hurried grind we ought to be satisfied, and if a man does know how to poke a woman properly-which very few do — he reserves all his talents for his mistress, because he thinks she knows how to do it better.”

“To be sure,” she added, “many wives are also to blame. All they think of is their husband's dinner, whereas if they thought less of his belly and more of what was below it, there would be more happy couples.”

There is no need to describe in detail the rest of this eventful night, suffice it to say that, thanks to the flagellation, and a little skilful aid from Maud's hand and tongue, Brandon was enabled to get off a couple more turns before he fell asleep by his wife's side.

Even this did not complete his performance, for when he woke in the morning his tool was stiff, as is usually the case with a man in good health. Maud was lying on her back fast asleep, and quite naked, and looked so lovely and tempting in the morning light that he would have been unworthy of the name of man if he had not taken advantage of the chance.

He gently pulled apart her big, firm, well-rounded thighs, and then kneeling between them, opened the soft pink lips of her rosy love-cleft with his fingers and inserted the head of his huge tool. Maud was probably awake all the time, but she took care not to open her eyes till he had quietly pushed more than half the big red column into the soft, warm, wet receptacle. Then she pretended to wake with a start. “What, again!” she cried with well feigned surprise. “Well, it's lucky I am a good strong girl, and can take a good deal of grinding, for I do not think there are many women who could stand five assaults in one night from such a huge machine as you have. But if you will take it out, Bob, I will show you a new way which I think will please you, and which not many women, even professionals, can do.”

“You won't trick me if I take it out?” said her husband.

“Of course not, you silly boy! I like it just as much as you do, or perhaps more, but you are very heavy, and your long stroke drive all the breath out of me.

“All right, little woman, I don't want to hurt you, so what do you want me to do?”

“Why, get off- that's it-and now lie flat on your back in the middle of the bed.”

Brandon did as he was told, and lay down as directed, his grand tool-superbly stiff from being interrupted when it was half way to its goal, lying straight against his belly.

Maud's eyes glistened with pleasure as she looked at it. “You are a beauty, my dear,” she said, as she caressed it with her hand, and bent down her pretty face and gave it a little kiss on its big, red, proudly swelling head. “It seems quite a pity to spoil you and make you all limp, but I don't think you much mind that.”

“You'll take all the stiffness out of it quicker than you intended, Maud, if you keep on handling it. Make haste and slip it in, darling, or I shall think you are afraid of it.”

“I'll soon show you whether I am afraid of it, sir,” replied Maud, and she threw one leg over his body and knelt on the bed with one leg each side of him. Then, putting her left hand round behind her thigh, she caught hold of his tool and pulled it up straight. Next, with her right hand she held apart the lips of her sweet rosy cleft, and gently lowered her body till the big head of the great column had disappeared.

“Now remember, Bob,” she said with mock gravity, and holding up her finger, “you are not to move. I daresay you will want to shove it in further, but you must conquer the inclination or you will spoil the game.”

“All right,” he replied. “I will do whatever you want — if I can.” Maud continued to lower her body until about two thirds of his prickle had entered her.

“That will do,” she cried. “If your old pet were not so long I could let it all in, but now it is just right. Do you feel anything darling?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I can feel something tickling the tip of my tool most deliciously.”

“That is my clitty playing round it. Now do you feel anything?”

“Yes; my old man is being squeezed and pressed and sucked as though it were in your mouth. What have you got inside there, Maud?”

A lady who had travelled in Turkey told me that some of the Turks have in their harems women who are called nutcrackers, who can make a man spend by working the muscles of their vulva. She taught me how to do it and I used to practise — only with a candle, of course — but I wasn't sure I could do it, but I never told you anything about it because — I was — afraid — you wouldn't — respect me.

“Respect you, darling!” he replied. “When I think that I have been night after night lying close to the cleverest little coynte in all England and never found out its beauties, I could kick myself. This is heavenly.”

He closed his eyes and seemed lost in ecstasy, whilst Maud knelt astride him apparently motionless, though all the muscles of her vulva were at work squeezing, gripping, sucking, and exciting the pleasant intruder who had ventured into that nest of delight. “Maud! I'm co — co — coming,” he murmured at last.

She, her eyes gleaming with lust, opened her legs, and gave a downward thrust which made all the rest of the great column disappear into her widely gaping, insatiable coynte, and throwing her body upon his, lay motionless with her warm mouth to his, her very being melted in the warm flood of love which was being spurted into her womb.

They lay thus for some minutes, and then his now limp tool slipped out of her cleft, and Maud, with a merry laugh, got off him, though he tried to retain her.

“No, no,” she said, “that is quite enough for the present. I shall have you knocking yourself up, and unable to do anything for a month, and now you have begun so well I hope you will continue.”

“You shall see,” he cried. “Oh, Maud darling, I love you better than ever, and yet last night I felt as though I could have killed you.”

“Well, sir,” she replied with a laugh, “I think you did your best. Five times! And your great thing is fully nine inches long! That makes nearly four feet of tool that you drove with all your might into my poor little belly. You have stretched me so that I shall be hardly able to walk for a day or two. But at any rate I have convinced you of the merits of flagellation.”

“Oh, yes, I acknowledge that,” he said. “It is very efficacious — but I think I like the nut-cracking best. Maud dear,” he whispered confidentially, “you're not too modest, are you dear, to let me see what you did that with?” Maud blushed.

“It's not much good either of us pretending to be modest,” she replied, “when we're both of us stark naked, and making no attempt to hide what we've each got, but I don't intend to let you peep inside my slit all the same.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because you would be obliged to touch it to look inside, and then you would want to put something else besides your finger in.”

“Oh, no, I promise I wouldn't. Besides,” he added dolefully, “you have taken it down so effectually, that I couldn't if I wanted to.”

“Well, I suppose I must, if you insist,” said Maud, and sitting on the edge of the bed, he threw her body back, and opened her thighs as wide as ever they would go.

Brandon came and knelt between her legs, and admired the rich forest of curly golden hair. Then with his fingers he gently opened the big lips, and made a long and careful inspection of the interior. When he had finished, he bestowed a long loving kiss on “the mouth with no teeth,” and rose to his feet.

“You're a sweetly pretty girl, Maud,” he said, “and that isn't the least pretty part about you. But I am as wise as I was before!”

Well, if you've quite done rummaging my secret charms,” said Maud, “we'll have breakfast.”

Thanks to Maud's receptive and nut-cracking capabilities, and Brandon's fine proportioned “lady-killer,” the reconciliation which was the outcome of this night of delirious lust was complete and lasting, but Brandon was absurdly jealous, and always imagined that his wife would some day cease to be satisfied with the amount of rogering he was able to give her, and would seek in the arms of other men to assuage her passions.

In this he wronged her, for though Maud was of a warm, amorous full-blooded nature, and could easily have taken more than her husband gave her; though he thoroughly appreciated her charms and was more liberal of his embraces than ever — she was not lascivious, nor likely to deceive a husband whom she knew did the best he could, merely to gratify sensual passions.

Brandon, however, could not realise this, and partly that he might be always with her and undisturbed by society, he took a house in a small village in Scotland.

There they lived happily some months; indeed Brandon would have been hard to please if he had not been satisfied with the skilful love-making of Maud, who was always ready for his assaults, and was continually devising fresh methods, each of which seemed better than the last to entranced Brandon.

He made sketches in the neighbourhood, and some of these sketches attracted the attention of a riche amateur, who gave him a commission to execute a series of views of Swiss scenery. Brandon was very far from being a rich man, and he found that it would be impossible for him to take Maud with him.

“It will be awfully lonely for me,” said Maud, “and when I think that I shall not feel your big baton between my legs for three or four months, I could cry. But there is no help for it, and I promise you on my word of honour that I will wait for your return and live quite chastely all the time. I will not ask the same of you, for I know what men are, and they have laid down the comfortable theory that a married man may go with as many women as he likes, but a married woman must have no one but her husband. So I expect you will put your big machine into a good many pretty Swiss girls before you come back.

“My dear Maud,” said her husband, “that is a popular delusion about the Swiss girls, they are, as a rule, abominably ugly, but if they were not I should not touch them, for I could never hope to meet one as pretty as you, of as good a poke.”

Whether Brandon kept his word is very doubtful, but he certainly never found any Swiss girl who was to be compared to Maud, and he was heartily glad when his last sketch was finished and he could return home, more especially as he had received a letter from Maud only a day or two before to say that she was very tired of sleeping alone, and that she had laid in a nice stock of birch rods.

Moreover she added that her crackers were in good working order, and able to crack his nut as often as he could put it there.

He was therefore looking forward to a pleasurable time, and had hurried home as fast as he could. But few of his friends even knew he was married, and he had pretended to his friend Lawrence that it was no petticoat business that had brought him to England and was taking him to Scotland.

Therefore when he took his place in the train his mind was still running on Maud, and the woman sitting opposite to him still further excited his sexual passions. He had not had a woman for at least three weeks, but he had committed so many infidelities that one or two more or less did not affect his conscience.

We have already seen what occurred between them until the time the train drew up with a sharp jerk, and had thrown the lady into his arms, and we will now continue the history from the moment at which we left it.