THE CASTLE 04

“I think I have the answer” said an excited Mrs Bottomley to the Girl and Mr Fitch early next day. The Girl - still totally naked, as she was to be for so many long months - stood massaging her sore,  scarlet rear. Her pessimistic guess as to the unlikelihood of her work satisfying the Mistress last night had been very much  correct - about twenty times, and very stingingly, correct!

“We will go to your garden shed, Fitch and inspect the contents. I know what this lice ridden creature needs!”

They all proceeded as directed and Dorothy examined the various containers of pesticides. Finally she uttered a cry of delight.

“Malathion! That’s the stuff! Go and get that tub hanging outside the kitchen - Slave! Bring it over here and RUN. Do you think I’ve all day to be seeing to you, you idle creature?”

As soon as the zinc bath had been brought over to the shed, the panting Girl was directed to fill it with cold water from the free-standing outdoor tap. Dorothy then emptied the contents of the pesticide container into the water and, with a suddenness that took the Girl by surprise, picked her up and dropped that startled armful of naked loveliness into the freezing cold bath. Before the astonished Girl had time to so much as gasp, Mrs Bottomley’s strong arm had pushed her below the surface - head, hair and all. Only when on the point of expiry did she find herself being allowed up for a deep breath of air and then back under she went!

This horrible procedure was repeated time and again until the poor Girl lost count of the times she was almost drowned. At last, the ruthless Mistress was satisfied.

“That should have done it! But you must now have another hosing down  to wash away the chemical before it does you any harm. FITCH!! More hosing!  I’ve got some friends round for coffee in a little while, so take her where she can’t be seen. Give her a good few hours solid treatment - let her have it full force again!  We don’t want her to come to any harm - do we?”

Mrs Bottomley went inside the Castle and prepared to greet a bevy of ladies from the more well-to-do houses in the vicinity. She was so happy to be getting into the good books of local Society!  As she went, she adjusted herself into proper genteel mode, and the flush of exertion after her cleansing and delousing of the Girl faded,  to be replaced by a seemly and ladylike pallor.

The Girl, meanwhile,  was marched around to the other side of the Castle and told to stand facing the delighted Fitch. He attached the hose to the standpipe and turned it full on, directing the jet straight at her middle, aiming straight for that sweet little navel. The Girl gasped as the jet hit her full in the stomach. She folded up in agony. It was like being kicked in the gut by a mule.  She heard the gardener laugh and tell her to straighten up smartish if she knew what was good for her and that sweet little bottom of hers.

Since she kept staggering, no matter how hard she tried not to,  under the impact of the powerful jet, the gardener reluctantly reduced the pressure somewhat. She relaxed a little and felt the water in her face and the stinging in her eyes from the powerful chemical began to go away. Although she had kept them tightly closed when under the water, the horrible stuff had still got into them and given her agonies.

She knew that it was useless to protest or ask for the man to stop.  He had his orders and was clearly enjoying obeying them to the letter. She  concentrated on trying to control her convulsive shivering as the dousing went remorselessly on and on  and on, the jet moving steadily up and down her body.  She was directed to turn around from time to time so that her back might get its share and Mr Fitch have a sight of her bruised, battered, but still firm and shapely,  rump. The gardener began to feel his hand itch as it lusted to fold itself around those succulent mounds!

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“How are you coping with the servant problem, Dorothy” asked Mrs Merridew, the Rector’s wife as she munched greedily on one of Dorothy’s  Garibaldi biscuits .

“Quaite setisfactorily, thenks.”  Dorothy replied, trying without too much success to ape the diction of her betters.    

“I have an excellent cook and a splendid butler and the garden is looking more lovely by the day under the hand of good old Fitch.  Also, I have decided to give work to that filthy beggar girl. One has one’s duty to the less fortunate, does one not, to give them a helping hand?”

There was a murmur of approval from the assembled ladies.

“I hope you have got her out of those stinking rags and given her a good clean down” offered Miss Parradine, the Chief Librarian and County Archivist.

“Oh, yes!  Those revolting stinking clothes have been burnt and I got Fitch to hose her down.  She spent the night sleeping on the lawn. I completed her cleansing with a severe and thorough de-lousing earlier on today and Fitch is giving her the final touches -  a splendid old fellow, that!”

“Can we see this amazing transformation, Mrs Bottomley?” asked Miss Hardiman,  a Magistrate and a very Great Lady indeed, in every sense of the word!

Dorothy hesitated. She gulped nervously and shuffled her feet uneasily. Finally she found her voice.

“Er, well. I haven’t actually got any clothes for her, as yet and I won‘t as long as she works for me. She is as naked as the day she was born. I can’t explain why, but I feel it is  just punishment  for allowing her clothes to become so foul. She must learn to keep her body clean and suffer the indignity of its being open to the gaze of others, no matter how great her shame. She must be made to ponder, at great length,  the error of her ways before she wears clothes again.”

The shocked silence among the good ladies was  palpable.  Then Miss Berriman, a retired headmistress nodded her grey head  sagely - a gleam on her hatchet-like features that any of her former pupils would have recognised with renewed fear, even many years after leaving school!  

“Good for you, Dorothy! Cleanliness is next to godliness.  You have to be cruel to be kind.”

At this, the rest of the ladies indicated their concurrence. Like their hostess, they were to spend many years wondering how they ever were so possessed as to come to go along with such appalling mistreatment of a poor young woman, but they also were being moved by forces beyond their control and the fate of the Girl was sealed. There was to be nobody who would lift a finger to help her or interfere in Mrs Bottomley’s increasingly cruel tyranny in the months ahead.

“We should finish our coffee first, ladies” said Dorothy. “Let Fitch give her a good solid clean down first. I put her in a strong chemical bath and she must have every trace washed off her or she will suffer in years to come.”

She knew this to be nonsense as did her friends.  They chatted away , sipped their coffee and nibbled their biscuits. Each knew  as they conversed in genteel amiability, that a naked girl was being hosed down with icy cold water by an elderly and rather unpleasant man for no better reason than to humiliate her.

“I’m so glad that awful person will no longer be hanging about the town” said Mrs Grimes-Fortescue, a lady of independent means who had kept silent thus far. “It was giving the place a terrible name. We get a fair amount of tourists passing through and patronising the town hostelries during the Summer months, but there was a real dropping off of trade while she was there squatting in the High Street outside the Old Market House. You really are a wonder, reforming her and keeping her away from the town. There was something so threatening about her, somehow.”

The rest of the company murmured in agreement. No one had had the nerve to have the Girl moved on. There had been something about her, not just the off-putting smell, that had caused all to give her  a wide berth, even giving her sufficient to eat and drink from time to time and allowing her to occupy old Mrs Miniver’s shed.

Finally, Mrs Bottomley suggested that they make their way to inspect Mr Fitch’s handiwork and an eager gaggle of ladies were soon gathered round to see the continuing cleansing of the by now shivering and blue with cold Girl.

“How long has Fitch been giving the finishing touches, Dorothy?” asked Mrs Merridew.

“Oh - about three hours, I think.” replied Dorothy. “I think she should be just about done by now. She‘s beginning to look terrible.”

“There can be no lasting good without pain, and plenty of it.” asserted the former headmistress, her eyes gleaming as she watched the freezing water coursing down the Girl’s trembling, shuddering,  but still lovely body.  “Turn around, Girl! Let’s see the rest of you!”

Mrs Bottomley nodded and the Girl obediently complied, feeling a dozen pairs of cold and curious eyes sizing up her nakedness and boring right into her. Despite the cold, she felt her face grow hot with shame as she was closely inspected by a group of middle aged to elderly ladies,  none of whom had ever possessed a fraction  her beauty and had long ago well and truly lost what little charm they once had.

“What have I let myself in for?” she thought despairingly, her courage almost deserting her. Then she pulled herself together again.

“Have you inspected her orifices, Dorothy?” asked the Magistrate. “I think you should, you know. I could assist you. I know what to look for. We  MUST make sure she is free from infection if she is to enter this grand old Castle.”

Unknown to the ladies, the efficient Fitch had already made the poor Girl spread her legs and anal cheeks in order to direct the water into those afore-mentioned secret places, but he was not about to admit to this and the Girl was too scared to say.  She could guess what he would do to her if she did!

“Let her have another couple of hours and we can come back and finish checking on her.” said Dorothy. “It is unpleasant for her, but she must be thoroughly decontaminated. I would never forgive myself if any harm came to her as a result of my negligence.”

“You are being SO good to her - I only hope she is grateful and aware that such kindness is more than she deserves!” said one of the other ladies. The rest agreed enthusiastically. This morning really had been a great success for Dorothy!

The Girl sighed with relief as the ladies departed for  while. She returned to her futile efforts to stop shivering. Hot tears joined the cold water and flowed down her cheeks. This was surely the worst it had got since her arrival and agreement to become a slave. She wondered, once again,  if she would have the strength to continue.

When Mrs Bottomley and the sadistic Magistrate finally did come back, the hose was switched off and her morning’s soaking was over at last. Their disgusting probing examination was soon over but the Girl’s skin crawled with disgust for hours afterwards.

“All clear, Dorothy!” said the perverted Magistrate after poking and gazing for as long as she felt she could get away with. “ And I see your slave is still a virgin! Hardly surprising considering! It would have been a brave man who got anywhere near her, the way she was!

The Girl smiled secretly as she heard this. If only the old fool knew how many horrible men she had needed to fight off to preserve her precious honour! A desperate man has a strong stomach!

“Well, ladies! I suggest we leave the Girl to her duties. Hard labour is to be her lot and Fitch will supervise her.”

“Oh! Can’t we watch her work for a while?” asked the former headmistress. “We need to ensure that Fitch is sufficiently firm. He needs watching, as well! You can‘t have her being allowed to become soft! She must be worked hard and given strict correction,  hard and often, for the sake of her moral fibre!”

Dorothy agreed. She was beginning to have a healthy regard for this  excellent lady. And so the Girl toiled away. At first it was a great relief to feel the warmth return to her body. She had been on the point of succumbing to hypothermia. Her pleasure soon evaporated. Every now and again the loathsome woman would shriek to Dorothy. “See that, my dear?  The Girl is slacking - lazy bitch! Belt, Fitch - BELT!”

When the other ladies finally persuaded the ex headmistress to accompany them back to the Castle, the Girl’s bottom, which the hosing had cooled down, was on fire again.

“Don’t ye fret, my dear” muttered Fitch as the ladies disappeared. He had come to pity the Girl by this time and had no more stomach for chastising her. “I won’t ever hit you again! Not unless the old cow tells me to! But  I can‘t afford to lose this job - not with the debts my cow of a wife has run up!”

“Thank you, Mr Fitch!” replied the grateful Girl.