LADIES IN LEATHER GLOVES

Double Trouble!
The green fields rolled by and Madsen had become hypnotised by the rhythm of the steam engine and was lost in his thoughts. He always felt slightly uncomfortable when he was invited to these Country House 'bashes', financially he could buy and sell most of the people he met at them but there were always people around to remind him that he wasn't 'one of them'. He wasn't a former pupil of Charterhouse or Rugby, nor indeed any of the English Public schools. Madsen's father had been a lowly clerk in the colonial service. His childhood had been spent in Southern Africa, going wherever his father was posted. In view of his father's love of the bottle, the postings had been many and varied. As his father became an embarrassment to his local commissioner, so he found himself being posted on. Madsen never knew his mother. When he was 16 his father died. No one really knew what to do with him. Rumours of some far off charity boarding school in England had been sufficient incentive for him to head to Kimberley on his own, Madsen tried his luck in the diamond fields and struck lucky, from diamonds, he moved on to gold and aged 21 he had a mighty financial empire of his own. He moved to London in 1912 to expand his business into the City of London.

When war came in 1914 he answered his country's call. He enlisted as a private in The Middlesex Regiment; by the war's end he was a Major and the most highly decorated soldier in the Empire. He was still however, 'Nouveau Riche'. A self made man. Some even articulated it for him, he was 'common'. Whatever changes the Great War had brought, they had passed the English Class system by. What he did know though, was people. Which you could trust and which you could not. He appointed people to work for him based on their ability not which school they had attended. His Empire stretched from Africa, to Europe, America and Australia. What he found ironic was that the titled people actively sought him out. They wanted him to grow their money for them. The guard passed down the train advising the next station was approaching. Madsen came back into the real world. Lady Rosalind Oxhey had invited him to Oxhey Manor Hall. Her party was scheduled for the weekend but she'd asked that he arrive on the Thursday as a 'special' guest. Madsen knew the family. Her two eldest twin sons had served with The Middlesex Regiment. Both Simon & William had been wounded and invalidated out of the army. Simon at Loos in 1915 and William at Arras in 1918. On both occasions, Madsen had rescued the boys from No Mans Land under heavy German fire. He called them 'One' & 'Two' referring to the VC's he earnt for his actions. He'd visited Oxhey Hall briefly late in the war while on leave but hadn't seen them since. He remembered Lady Rosalind though! A very striking woman. Her husband had been killed in the Boer War and since then the redoubtable Ros had raised three sets of twins! The two Boys, twin girls who must now be about 21 and the 'Little twins' a boy and a girl aged 18. She was active on the social and suffragette scene and relished taking on any establishment figure she could find that she didn't agree with!

Lady Rosalind had organised a car for him. Once the cases were loaded the car pulled away. It was a 40-minute drive to the Hall. Madsen sat silently. Only 3 weeks before he had visited Madam Estelle for his monthly rendezvous. His need for discipline from a strong woman had led him to visit Estelle regularly. The marks and bruises from his last beating had faded away but Estelle knew he was visiting Oxhey Manor Hall and she knew Lady Rosalind. She told him the women had discussed him but no more than that. He felt uneasy as the car swung into the drive and up to the house. The gravel crunched as the car stopped. Two footmen quickly unloaded the cases and as Madsen climbed the steps to the front door he received a hearty welcome from his former comrades. Firm handshakes and backslapping took place. No question of the warmth of the welcome, there was genuine joy at his visit. William walked well with his stick and led him to the drawing room and ordered the butler to pour 3 huge whiskeys and very quickly a full on wartime reunion took place. 2 whiskeys later the brothers took Madsen to the rear terrace to view the late afternoon sun, it was a glorious view.

As the three friends stood in silence a fine grey horse came into view, cantering across the fields, it's rider making no attempt to halt at the hedge separating the fine manicured lawn from the cornfield. The grey leapt the hedge and continued up to the house. Madsen could see the rider was a women and he recognised her at once. Lady Rosalind pulled up at the foot of the terrace and dismounted. Her long blonde hair tumbled out from her hat as she removed it; her tweed jacket and skirt were coated with mud. Madsen's eyes were drawn to her pretty blue eyes and fine features, for a woman in her mid fifties; she was still a real beauty. As she climbed the steps to the terrace his eyes were drawn to her tiny hands, encased in beige suede leather gloves, turned back at the cuff. While her right hand swept her hair back from her face, the left hand held a beige riding crop, topped with a silver horses head mount. She offered her hand to him and was still breathing deeply after the ride. He kissed the glove, glorying in the scent of horse and leather. Their eyes met. 'Lady Rosalind, thank you for inviting me' He released her hand and stood back, bowing slightly. 'My pleasure dear boy, my pleasure! It's been far too long anyway. I owe you the lives of my two sons, we shall always be in your debt.' She made eye contact and smiled such a knowing smile that Madsen felt himself flush deep crimson. She turned and walked back to her horse; halfway down the steps she turned again, still that smile and twinkling blue eyes. As she mounted her horse, she raised her riding crop to her temple in a salute ' I shall catch up with you later Mr.Madsen' she wheeled her horse around and trotted off. 'Ma's been desperate for you to stay for years and for the last month it's all she's been talking about' said Simon. Madsen felt the need to swallow hard. Did the brothers also know…………….?

He never felt comfortable dressing for dinner but the mirror showed him he looked fine. His dinner jacket was plain; he never bothered with his medal ribbons. He slowly descended the huge staircase admiring all the paintings as he did so. At the foot of the stairs he looked around, unsure where to head next. 'Follow me please sir' the butler gestured with his hand and Madsen followed him to the billiard room where the brothers were in the middle of a game. Once more the whisky appeared and Madsen began to relax. When the dinner gong rang the three made their way to huge imposing dining room. 'You're here Madders, next to Mother' William directed him to the place to the right of the head of the table. Lady Rosalind wore a gorgeous black gown with white pearls and long black leather gloves. As she reached her chair she held out her hand to Madsen, once again he kissed it. Her blue eyes had him transfixed. 'We're only four this evening Mr.Madsen, the others will start arriving tomorrow.' Madsen wished for crowds, more than he could wish for anything else. He felt he knew how a fly felt when it landed in the spider’s web. The conversation was generalities and Madsen worked hard to keep it that way. As the meal ended, Lady Oxhey put her gloved hand on his. 'You know Michael' her blue eyes were warm and welcoming 'I think you're going to have a wonderful time here! We've so much planned! Now, I'll leave you boys to your brandy, we'll speak again in the morning'. Madsen helped her Ladyship with her chair. As she left her wonderful perfume lingered behind her. When he finally got to bed he was far too full of brandy to worry much and went straight to sleep.

When he woke, his watch told him it was 11.20am. He drew the curtains and the sunlight poured into his room. He opened the window and drank in the warm air. Screwing up his eyes against the light, he couldn't immediately detect where the voice came from. Looking down he saw Lady Ros sitting on the terrace. 'I said, rather too much brandy Mr.Madsen?' 'I'm afraid so' he replied. Lady Ros shook her head in disappointment. Madsen bathed and shaved and went downstairs. The maid led him to the terrace and the fly & spider thoughts came back to him. 'Coffee or tea sir?' asked the maid 'Coffee please' replied Madsen as he sat down opposite the Lady of the House. 'I'm afraid we're on our own Michael' she smiled that damn knowing smile again. 'The boys have left to collect their fiancées from the station, It's supposed to be a surprise but we're having a double wedding and I believe you are invited' she winked at him and laughed 'Don't let on you know though!' Again the wink. 'I hadn't heard the chaps were engaged?' said Madsen. 'Oh yes, fine gals, I fully approve!' Rosalind brought him up to date with all the news. It felt as though a difficult subject was always just about to be broached but never quite was.

When the brothers returned Madsen was introduced to their future wives as well as their two sisters who had also been at the station. Rachel and Ruth were identical twins. Stunningly beautiful girls. Dark brown hair and deep, dark brown, almost black eyes. 'Double trouble there Madders' joked William. 'Twice as nice' retorted Ruth and punched her brother in the ribs. Rachel simply stuck out a tongue and winked at Madsen. Assuming the couples had plenty to talk about, Madsen quietly detached himself from the group and wandered into the library. He browsed the books and settled down with a volume of Kipling. He'd hardly started when he heard voices and footsteps approaching the library. 'In' the sharp command came from Lady Ros. A tearful Ruth, or possibly Rachel, Madsen couldn't tell, entered the room in a clearly agitated state. Lady Ros closed the door behind herself, only then seeing Madsen in the chair. 'Ah! Mr.Madsen, I do apologise, I didn't see you there. Our library also doubles as our punishment room. When the children have 'sinned', I bring them here for correction' the firm glance she threw the girl left Madsen in no doubt as to what was going to happen. 'It's alright Lady Rosalind, I'll come back later' Madsen flushed as he looked at the stern countenance on her face. 'That won't be necessary Mr.Madsen. Justice must not only be done but must be seen to be done' at her reply the poor girl coughed out a huge sob. Tears began to run down her face. Her huge pleading eyes looked to Madsen for escape. He looked at Lady Ros and decided he'd prefer German machine guns and remained rooted to the spot. 'Good! That's settled then' there was an air of finality in her voice.
The Lady of the house crossed to the huge mahogany desk. She opened a draw and withdrew a pair of short black leather gloves. She slid them on, straining her fingers against the material as she did so. Another coughing sob came from the girl as she watched this ritual. When the both gloves were on, Rosalind reached into the draw again and withdrew a long crook handled cane. She swished it through the air 3 times and nodded her head in satisfaction. 'Mabel soaked it for me last week, must keep it supple!' Madsen didn't know whether or not the comment was for his or the girls benefit. 'You see Mr.Madsen; I had a letter from the college principle at Cambridge. She told me Ruth, along with several other girls, thought it a jolly jape to shout from a third floor bedroom window, to members of the public below and show their bare bottoms to them' Lady Ros' tone was severe. I had to beg and plead, beg & plead Mr.Madsen to keep the girl there. Ruth was the only girl caught and has refused to name the others. IF, if Ruth decides to tell me the names and I forward those names to her principle, she will be allowed to stay, if not……………………' her voice tailed off. She stared long and hard at her daughter. 'Well young lady?' The stern look on the mother's face convinced Madsen the girl ought to spill the beans. While he admired comradeship, this was serious. He wished though that he'd had the chance to view this girls beautiful bare bottom, then realised he may be about to and at a much closer angle than three floors down. 'Oh Mother, I can't dob them in, they'll all get in terrible bother' sniffed Ruth. Her mother walked towards her, flexing the cane in her gloved hands. 'I already know of a girl that's in terrible trouble' Ros swished the cane to emphasise the point. The girl stood before her, wringing her hands and shaking from head to foot.

'I shall give you 12 strokes on your bare bottom Ruth. That will be your punishment for your disgusting behaviour!' The word disgusting was accompanied by a fleck of spittle. 'If after your 12, you feel able to give the names, we shall conclude your punishment. If you stubbornly insist on this pathetic 'chivalrous' code, the strokes will continue, do you understand?' Lady Ros was by now nose to nose with her daughter. 'Yes mother' sobbed the girl in reply. 'Skirt up, knickers down and over the arm of the Chesterfield' Ros snapped out the command. Ruth looked embarrassingly at Madsen then back to her mother. It was clear Ros intended to punish the girl, bare bottom in front of the guest. Ruth knew it, as did Madsen. The girl walked with stooped shoulders to the sofa. After a moments hesitation her hands went up her skirt and after some fumbling a pair of silky white pants slipped around her ankles. She raised her skirt and bent over the arm of the sofa. Her head turned sideways to check on Madsen's reaction. ' I think you'll have a better view from over there Mr.Madsen' a gloved finger indicated a chair directly behind the poor girls quivering buttocks. Madsen settled himself in the chair. The girl did possess a glorious bottom, the flawless white skin a contrast to her dark stockings. Rosalind laid the cane on the sofa as she adjusted the girl's skirt. Ruth stared at the thin rod inches from her face, knowing that in moments she would feel it's considerable bite in her nether regions. Once again the gloves were adjusted, the cane was picked up. As she tapped it against the bare cheeks, Ruth screwed up her eyes and dug her fingers as hard as she could into the leather cushions. She knew what was coming and she knew it would hurt!

Ruth had forgotten just how much, it actually did hurt. At 20 years of age, she'd been over the Chesterfield enough times before, normally for 6 of her mother's best but 12? She pledged to herself that she wouldn't cry out in front of a stranger whatever it took. The first stroke felt like she was being cut in two. The low gasping grunt Ruth gave, told Madsen that Lady Rosalind had truly struck home. 'One' the girl gasped. Ros waited, the cane rocked back and forth as she flexed her wrist. The next three strokes all landed like a thunderclap. More gasps and grunts and on the fifth stroke Ruth broke. Tears and sobs made the counting harder. Lady Ros was in no hurry, she waited while Ruth composed herself but as soon as the girl counted the stroke, the next fell. From numbers 7 to 12, the counting ceased. The girl was sobbing too much. Her white bottom wobbled in time to the sobs. Vivid red welts criss crossed her formally smooth cheeks. Lady Rosalind crossed to the desk and laid the cane on it, then she moved to the window and looked out onto the lawn. She crossed her gloved hands behind her back and waited. The only sounds Madsen could hear was the girls sobbing and his own irregular breathing. Gradually the girls sobbing ceased but her breathing remained deep. How Madsen wished he could rub some cold cream onto her poor sore bottom. When she was satisfied the girl was once again coherent, Rosalind turned from the window, picked up the cane and retook her position behind the girl. Once again she flexed the cane and swished it through the air. 'The names please Ruth' Lady Ros asked the question in almost a whisper. As she did so, she laid the cane across the girl’s striped bottom. At the feel of the cane she girl sobbed out 'I'll tell, I'll tell, please mother, no more…………..no more…………….please…..!' Moments later, Madsen found himself writing down a list of names. He tried to look sympathetically across to Ruth as she listed her accomplices. Her tears forming small puddles on the leather cushions. When satisfied that she had the full list, Rosalind sent the girl to her room. Madsen had a front row view of the tearful girl struggling to pull up her knickers. He was treated to a lingering view of her dark bush. She walked slowly from the room rubbing her tender posterior. She was a beautiful sight.
As Ruth closed the door of the library, Madsen turned to look at Lady Rosalind. The woman had a mischievous glint in her eye. 'You know my niece Mr.Madsen' it was a statement and a question all rolled into one. Madsen didn't think he did but she continued, 'Estelle'. She was looking directly at him. Two beautiful blue eyes boring into his soul. Madsen was stunned. His look was a mixture of stunned surprise and despair. 'Do close your mouth Michael, your tongue will dry out' she giggled at his discomfort. 'You wonder how don't you?' Madsen couldn't even nod. 'My brother has a thing for Les Femmes Francaise! Estelle's mother was a very high class Parisian Dominatrix. My brother married her, took her away from Paris to Biarritz. They live very happily together. She thrashes him often and he loves her madly. Estelle was educated in the finest English boarding and Swiss finishing schools. Her mother nurtured the girl and gave her the skills she felt Estelle needed to be an independent woman in this modern World. Ever so Bohemian my brother.' Rosalind still flexed the cane. 'Now Michael, drinking brandy to excess is not something I approve of. Frankly I think it worthy of a hard caning, don't you?' Her stern face was now only inches from his own. Her perfume filled his nostrils once again. The cane she now flexed in front of his face and the scent of her leather gloves replaced her perfume. He nodded. 'Quite so, well I'd better cane you then hadn't I?' She pointed to the sofa. 'Just six for now, let down your trousers and underpants and get across the arm of the sofa' her voice was steady and determined. He did as he was bid. He took the six well. But he had to bury his face into the sofa to prevent crying out; his lips tasting Ruth’s salty tears as he did so. My God, this woman could cane! By the end, she'd administered 18 hard cutting strokes that afternoon and still looked capable of more.

'You may get up'. He pulled up his trousers over six angry welts. 'And don't worry, I haven't singled you out, Simon and William were thrashed after breakfast for their part in your carousing, you may go, we'll speak again later' she turned and returned to the desk. Carefully she pulled off her gloves and replaced them and the cane in the draw. He walked stiffly to the door and held it open for her. As she swept past him she said 'I'm pleased Michael, you took that well, should I have occasion to punish you again, I may have to be very severe indeed' she disappeared along the corridor and out of sight.

Madsen stood in the corridor feeling his glowing buttocks through his trousers. God that had hurt! 'If she says 'very severe indeed' I'd take care if I were you, she means it!' Ruth's face appeared from the room opposite. She threw Madsen a sweet smile. 'It's not fair though' she continued, 'you got to see my bare botty getting a real swishing and all I got was to hear yours!' Her face contorted into a little girl pout as she folded her arms across her chest. 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' he laughed. Quickly, Ruth led him by the arm into the study opposite; she closed the door and turned to face him. 'You go first, after all, you've seen mine already'. Madsen could see the logic and turned to drop his trousers. She examined the damage her mother had inflicted and grunted with satisfaction that it had been 'a super swishing'. Madsen pulled his trousers back up as he did so Ruth wriggled her knickers down and pulled her skirt up. She bent forwards to allow him a better view of her bottom. 'Sore as hell it is' she declared and Madsen had to agree. 'I promised the girls I wouldn't snitch but I couldn't take anymore, I really couldn't' he laid his hand on her stripes, he felt the heat throbbing through the girls bottom but she quickly moved away telling him not to take liberties. Once she was dressed again they walked out to the terrace. Both declined to sit on the hard stone benches. They spoke in whispers to each other about their thrashings that afternoon. Giggling here and there. Madsen found the pretty young girl very easy company. There conversation was cut short by the approach of Lady Rosalind, returning from the garden with some cut flowers. 'Well, well, two of my sinners together' she smiled at them. 'Do you know what?' she asked of them, 'I hear two people in the study a short while ago exposed themselves to each other, what do you think of that?' She fixed them with a steely expression. The light atmosphere between them changed. They exchanged horrified glances. They were both speechless. 'Fortunately it was me walking past in the garden not one of our guests! Do you not care for your reputations? Tomorrow, Lord Winterton has invited everyone over to the hunt on the common. You will both absent yourselves from that and report to me in the library at 11.00am sharp. You can both reacquaint yourselves with the Chesterfield and my cane and do not expect any mercy!' he tone was final and doom laden. She strode away. Ruth looked up at him, biting her lip. 'God, we're for it!' she gasped. 'I'm sorry Ruth, I'll tell her I forced you to sh……..' He was cut short, 'She wouldn't believe it, she knows what I'm like' the girl smiled a weak smile. 'Still I think I can take it if you're alongside me….' She squeezed his arm and suggested a drink. Madsen thought that was probably the best option at that moment and followed the girl into the house.

To be Continued.....