Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 18.

by Jackie J

After Winifred had removed the locks from Lady Downton’s harness Jess busied herself unfastening the buckles and straps until the harness was removed leaving a naked dishevelled and disorientated Lady Downton sprawled on the floor of the pen.

“Should I wash her put her in the tub she stinks?”

Winifred removing the hoof mitts and bootees from Lady Isabelle smirked.

“Just wash her down, oh and put this on her you know what it is.”

Winifred slid a device across the floor, a device that Jess was all too familiar with she had worn one herself for what seemed an age when she arrived at Stoneleigh.

“My goodness Winfred what are you going to do with her, where is she going?”

Winifred spoke in a stronger tone.

“Jessica just do like you are told. That is no business of yours.”

Whilst Winifred and Jess had become more than friendly Jess knew that tone and continued to prepare Lady Downton.

A bucket of water and a rag sufficed to wash down the wretchedness of her confinement Jess trying to be gentle around her busted gapping sex. More balm smeared into her worn crevices before Jess worked the belt into position, tugged the straps tight and closed the lock. Lady Downton moaned her body limp like a rag doll whilst Jess dressed her in the stained and well-worn cotton underwear. The cheap drab dress with crude mends along with torn underskirts covering holed hosiery. Boots, no different than the ones the maids at Stoneleigh wore although the soles worn thin, pushed onto her feet and laced she was dressed.

Propped up at the side of the pen her legs spread and head lolling dressed like she was Lady Downton looked more like a drunken whore than a lady.  

Jess turned to Winifred.

“What shall I do with her hair it’s such a mess it’s a bit cleaner but it’s all snagged in knots.”

Winifred left Lady Isabelle and walked in front of and stared down at the befuddled Lady Downton.

“Leave it; put this old bonnet on it.”

If Lady Downton could have looked any worse the tattered bonnet with dirty frayed ribbons proved she could. The bow of the bonnet tied under her chin framing her blotchy face.

Winifred dragged the moaning pathetic bundle of rags over her shoulder and smiled at Jess.

“Right I will take this I want you to move Lady Isabelle through into the annex and bathe her, you will find a nightdress in the closet she is to be put into the bed in the far chamber and you will care for her until I return. Remember she is the Mistress of Stoneleigh and you will look after her accordingly.”

Jess looked at Winifred with questioning eyes the way the two Mistresses had been treated following their release from the harnesses quite different. Lady Downton belted, dressed in rags and looking like a drunken whore, Lady Isabelle to be pampered by her personal maid?

Winifred smirked seeing the look on Jessica’s face and patted the skirted ass of the semi-conscious lady Downton slung over her shoulder.

“Just do as you have been told Jessica I will be back tomorrow.”

With that Winifred left the east wing and Jess turned her attentions to Lady Isabelle.

Like Lady Downton Lady Isabelle’s eyes were open but just stared into space her body limp. Jess could not get Lady Isabelle to stand she had been so long shackled on all fours in the restrictive harness. With no choice she dragged Lady Isabelle through into the annex and into the bath tub. 

Water added to the tub Jess proceeded to wash the filth from her. Bruises and scrapes adorned her body and Jess winced at the sight of her battered sex. Free from the harness and in better light and cleaned of its spoil’s the distressed sagging flesh of her intimacy bore testimony to her ordeal. Lady Isabelle’s hair washed and combed through she was starting to look more like her old self but still her eyes and what lay behind them dead and empty. Dried and put into the ornate nightdress Jess worked her Mistress between to clean sheets of the bed and left her to rest.

Jess ate alone that evening wondering where Winifred had gone with Lady Downton; perhaps she had taken her back to Downton hall to recover? Yes of course, but why dress her in those rags and the chastity belt? If being held in that harness for two weeks to be treated like an animal was weird wanting to be put into chastity and scruffy dirty clothing seemed even stranger? Still it was obviously what Lady Downton wanted Winifred to do to her; she had done it before hadn’t she?  Jess made her way to her own bed and was soon sound asleep.

Of course, the carriage that wobbled its way down the driveway and out of the gates of Stoneleigh that evening was not heading to Downton hall it was already making good progress towards the city and more precisely Grafton Street and the roost of Winifred’s old associate Black cat.

Many an unfortunate had passed through the doors of black cat’s domain, rich or poor she didn’t care. Once they were inside her bordello she paid her fee and they were hers, what had gone before was of little concern or consequence. Aware of Winifred’s pending arrival and excited by the prospect of what Winifred had told her, during their previous meeting, she sat with crop in hand in the flickering candlelight of her parlour filled with anticipation.

Pulled from the carriage stooped and barely able to walk the ragged Lady Downton was dragged through the doors of 27 Grafton Street. A tall muscular Nubian woman at the inner door smiled and grabbing Lady Downton’s chin raised her head. Her other hand placed a plain steel band round her neck and letting Lady Downton’s head flop down clipped and closed a lock between the asps at the back of the collar a brass disc dangling from the front displaying her number. 

“Take that through, up the stairs Miss Cat is expecting you.”

The heavy inner door behind them closed and despite a number of stumbles on the tight dimly lit stairway Lady Downton was eventually bundled along the hallway to the Parlour door and pushed inside flopped down onto the floor.

Cat, her real name Sharista Matrina, a tall lean mixed race Spanish Arabian stared down at the obvious trollop spread on the floor at Winifred’s feet and chuckled then laughed.

“A pure bred blonde English rose, a lady of noble birth but well used, quite a fallen angel, I fear you are stretching the imagination there Winifred, look at the thing, fallen angel, its half dead”

Winifred smirked, the haughty arrogant Lady Downton had paid a heavy price for her fetish of purification and the trust she had placed in her housekeeper. Her mind frazzled by her weeks of sensory deprivation now displaying all the traits of a simpleton.

Sharista rolled Lady Downton over onto her back with her booted foot then stooped down to remove the tatty bonnet. Lady Downton’s empty eyes stared blank and emotionless at the dark skinned women that squeezed her cheeks and lowered her jaw to inspect her teeth. Bright white teeth that had been recently tarnished by the gruel she had been fed but healthy teeth none the less. Sharista fondled the breasts of Lady Downton that hung loose beneath the fabric of her ragged dress and smiled.

“Mmmmm a fair pair of tits on it Winifred not much sag in those, let’s look at her money hole."

 Lady Downton dress and underskirts unceremoniously pushed back over her torso and baggy bloomers pulled down below her knees she lay motionless the chastity belt tight into her crotch. Sharista laughed.

“Shit Winifred what’s this, give me the key.”

Winifred handed Sharista the key to remove the device.

“I have had to keep it belted it would have anything on two legs up it if I gave it the chance.”

The belt removed Sharista sat back on her haunches and stared at the revealed stretched loose opening and bulbous crimson clitoris.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it liked cock up it, the bigger the better by the look of it it’s been fucked raw.”

Sharista grabbed Lady Downton’s ankles and rocked her back on her welted ass.

“Well her reserve looks in better condition and likes a bit of discipline I see. We have buggers who visit perhaps cut its hair and put it in a sailor suit I can’t see clients paying to prod that bucket.”

Winifred had helped herself to a glass of wine and smiled at the humiliating inspection of her once mistress.

“Do what you will with it, it’s yours if you want it.”

Leaving Lady Downton on the floor, her legs spread, skirts raised above her waist and soiled knickers to her ankles with her seeping flabby sex on display, Sharista stood and joined Winifred in a glass of wine both looking down on her.

“Ok I will take it, I said I would for an old friend no come backs mind you know how it works here I will get it tattooed in the morning. I might be able to get it on one of the Caribbean ships they are always looking for tarts, the crew fuck them stupid on the voyage then trade them off to the plantations, they get a decent price for willing white women out there.”

Sharista chinked glasses with Winifred and smiled.

“Lady Mary Downton hey, hard to believe it used to be the Mistress of Downton hall, that must have been quite some time ago looking at it now, well not anymore hey Winifred?”

A bell cord pulled the muscular women who had met Winifred at the door entered.

Sharista pointed to the befuddled bundle on the floor.

“Take that, strip it, sluice it, crop its hair and put this belt back on it then lock it in room nine. We will need Walter in the morning to mark it up, pick a design for its back, you chose.”

Lady Downton swept up in the muscular arms of the women was carried from the room and Winifred accepted a top up of her glass content that would be the last time she would see her mistress or was it?

Sharista smiled at Winifred and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I have a room prepared for you, why don’t you stay for a few days we used to have such fun together.”

Winifred smiled remembering the times that Sharista referred to as fun. Times before Winifred developed her own taste for being on the other end of the crop.

“Perhaps another time I will stay tonight Sharista but I will need to leave in the morning.”

Sharista chuckled and held out her hand towards Winifred.

“Then we just have tonight, come with me, Miss Cat knows what Winifred likes doesn’t she?”

Winifred looked into Sharista’s bright smiling green eyes, put down her glass lowered her head and slowly offered her hand into that of Sharista’s

“Yes Miss.” 

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