Arkwright & Buckingham

By Adrianne Bloom
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Copyright 2013 by Adrianne Bloom, all rights reserved

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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 Arkwright & Buckingham
 
Part 1
 
 
 
The contraption was sturdy enough, but it lacked the elegance of design that he had come to expect from Arkwright’s previous work. The benches, horses and trestles that this craftsman had constructed before had been masterpieces, but this was lacking the finer points of engineering, those visible attributes that, at first view, left no doubt as to their purpose. In essence, it was just a triangular ladder; like the sort that a window cleaner might use. It was broader, with a much wider base and was made of sturdy polished wood, but it looked far too innocent for the purpose for which it was intended and, in truth, it just did not look terrifying enough. Usually, having been presented with just a vague idea and perhaps a very amateurish sketch, Arkwright would interpret the design, fashioning it enhanced with elements of line and form that displayed its function obviously. The observer would be left in no doubt whatsoever as to its effectiveness.
 
These were the elements that were missing.
 
“Now look here Arkwright”, he said “this is very disappointing and nowhere near the quality of your previous work. When I look at this, all I want to do is climb up it to reach the higher window pains with my chamois leather. Where’s the anxiety in that? How to you intend to get my goose pimples raised and my heart thumping at that prospect? Why should I shiver with fear? If I was scared of heights do you think I would have become a window cleaner in the first place?” He chuckled at his own cynical quip.
 
Arkwright pushed the cap back from his forehead, not amused and intending to defend his design with seriousness.
 
“I know what you mean, Mr Buckingham, I was wondering about that myself when I first saw the drawing.”
 
He scratched his bald head.
 
“As I see it, there is no obvious means of entrapment here and there’s your problem. It is not even clear that it is intended for human use, let alone for the harsh chastisement of a vulnerable, young, tethered person. I mean which part of the body is going to be the focus of attention here? Are you supposed to lie down or stand up at it? Front or back, top or bottom? How can you tell? How can one be apprehensive of an object that has no obvious purpose? All of the other devices I have manufactured for you have been perfectly straight forward in respect of what functions they might perform. Take the bench I made for you for instance, it was perfectly obvious what that was for, it was for bending over. The padded leather top was just right for supporting delicate abdomens firmly, the ankle and wrist manacles made it quite clear that there would be no getting up and, with the waist strap in place, that there would be very little squirming about either. So, when any of your ere… what do you call them, victims..?”
 
“No, no Arkwright, not victims, please I prefer disciples. They are all under my tutelage, If not of their own, then certainly of their parent’s or guardian’s instruction, so never victims”.
 
“Well in any road, when any of your “disciples” would first set their eyes on that bench, they would know full well that it was certainly not for their own comfort. And once they were strapped in, they could see they would not be getting up again in a hurry either and certainly not before their bottoms had been well and truly warmed. That’s what sent them a trembling, the realization of what lay ahead.”
 
Buckingham had to admit that Arkwright had a point and that his way of thinking was very much similar to his own and, in that respect, was the very reason why he bestowed his patronage on him in the first place.
 
“So what are we going to do about it Arkwright?” He asked.
 
“Well first off, we need to attach some hard metallic devices to it; some chunks of metal, bits of iron and steel; things that represent securing points. As I’m sure that you, especially you Mr Buckingham, can appreciate, the classic attributes of the pillory or stocks are the hinges and the clasps that hold it together. The arm and neck holes are quite clearly there for entrapment, but are not quite enough without a good solid hinge and a strong metal clasp to clearly show the rigidity of the devise. That’s where the horror of it stems from.”
 
Arkwright lumbered over to the device. He was not an attractive man. A slight curvature of the spine caused an irregular gait which appeared worse due to the thickness of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders.
 
“If we were to attach a metal ring here”, he was indicating the top of the triangle with his stubby fingers, gnarled by many years of working with hard tools, “it would indicate that it was something to which you might tie a rope for instance, or a chain and shackles; something you could bind the wrists to. Immediately you have then the suggestion of which way up the device is meant to be and thereby an indication of the position of the body.
 
“Next, we would need to place the body in relation to the machine. Where’s the head to be, or the legs? Where and how will they be secured? Is any movement to be permitted? Will any dignity be retained when one is naked? These are the questions that will be foremost in ones mind when faced with a device such as this, and it is just those questions that will get the imagination working. If we hint and tease at that imagination we can, as you so aptly put it, get those goose pimples raised.”
 
“So we need to imply more than is at first obvious? Is that what you are saying?” quizzed Buckingham.
 
“Yes exactly. We need to put the subject within the machine. Now let’s position the legs.” He stepped up to the frame placing his left leg on the third rung. The shortness of his legs meant that he needed to go up on the toes of his right foot.
 
“It is this series of cross-members that give the impression that it is a ladder. You imagined that yourself with your initial observation. So, straight away with very little further imagination it is obvious where the legs are to be. But why does the structure taper at the top?”
 
He asked rhetorically as he reached awkwardly to the apex of the frame to demonstrate. The curvature of his spine brought him back suddenly with a grunt.
 
“What is the point of this fiendish subtlety? These are the questions that will require answers and, faced with no other clues; will need to be answered by recourse to the imagination. Applying some further hints to stimulate those thoughts will conjecture whatever vision we see fit.”
 
He stepped down to resume his account with his feet firmly on the ground.
 
“So, I would propose that we reduce the angle of the uprights here and bring them closer together. Rather than have these horizontal bars, the rungs if you like, fixed at their ends, let’s extend them through holes in the uprights to the outside.”
 
He brought both arms down describing the position of the upright supports,
 
“Now, you see, by indenting the uprights by reducing the angle at the top of the triangle, it will still be sturdy enough I assure you, we can now demonstrate two ingenious functions. It is now the outer rungs that have become the obvious place to secure the feet and, you see, by doing so it has also become abundantly clear that the intention of the device is to spread them apart.”
 
“Arkwright you really are a master at this kind of thing,” interrupted Buckingham. “Your vision and ingenuity really are exemplary. But this reduction to the angle of the triangle, will this not now make it, shall we say, easier on those that are more slightly built, or harder on those with shorter legs? I want no favorites you know; we must be fair to all concerned. I want no leniency shown, not just on account of height or size”.
 
“On the contrary Mr Buckingham” Arkwright resumed, “we have merely added an element of versatility to the whole contraption. For now you see, with the arms affixed to a metal ring at this top point here, the legs might be positioned and clamped to whichever of these rungs you decide, and by doing so, vary, first of all the spread of the legs; but also the height, the angle, and the extend to which the posterior is presented backwards and outwards.”
 
“What a splendid idea Arkwright, positively brilliant.” Buckingham was delighted with the way that Arkwright’s vision of his design was developing.
 
“I know that this was not my original brief to you, I was just seeking a structure that, like the bench, would hold someone securely in place; but rather than being in a bent over position pulling the skin tightly over the buttock muscle, would allow the skin and all the tissue padding it, to remain relaxed and, consequently, soft and more vulnerable. My original idea was for a structure that would hold someone, regardless of shape or size, firmly in a manner that would surely allow the parting of the legs but in a way that would also allow gravity to take its effect on the heavier lower fatty area of the buttocks and so be able to concentrate the attention to those more tender parts. But do you realize that your proposal would enhanced the device with yet another refinement that would otherwise have escaped even your fertile imagination?
 
“Imagine that when one of my young disciples is secured in the manner to which you have described; wrists tethered at the top of the triangle, ankles secured either side of the uprights at, shall we say, the third or fourth wrung, and if they be of average height this would normally be on the same level as their thighs; then they would consequently be forced to either stick their bottoms right out, or bend at the knee and be forced into a hanging squatting position. Now, imagine further if you will, that once the birch has got to work and is in the full throws of its vicious attack; believe me that at such a stage the gyrations of the one under attack are of such a lewd and abandoned nature that no modesty remains; then the one on the receiving end, particularly if they might have had previous delusions of grandeur, would soon loose that haughty countenance and be chagrined in a most shameful and humiliating manner. You will surely have saved me much time and effort to arrive at a state that would otherwise have taken me many hours, but with this device I might achieve in some minutes.”
 
Buckingham was certainly pleased. He scrutinized the contraption imagining Arkwright’s suggested enhancements, contemplating an image of the structure with a human form gyrating within its bonds. Arkwright was just as pleased. He had stimulated the imagination to the complete satisfaction of his patron once again. He felt sure that more commissions would result from this strangely motivated, but wealthy, gentleman.
 
“So when will the final version be ready Mr Arkwright?”
 
“In two weeks time Mr Buckingham”.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
2.
 
 
 
Arkwright arrived at the Old Manor House on the outside of Clifton. He knew that his patron was a wealthy man but was surprised at the grandeur of the place. He had enjoyed the patronage of Mr Buckingham for three years but, during that time, had never once been invited up to the house. Buckingham had always taken the journey into Bristol to conduct business at his workshop. It was only because his patron had become so impressed by his workmanship and interpretation of the design, that he had suggested Arkwright visit him to see the machines in operation himself. This was by way of a reward he supposed, without of course resorting to the sordid exchange of a further bonus that, if the truth be known, Arkwright would have preferred; but also in the hope that Arkwright’s creative imagination would be further stimulated by this visit and so all future projects would benefit.
 
The ladder contraption had been collected from the workshop by pony and cart a few days previously and was now installed in the basement of this grand house, outside of which Arkwright was now standing on the step, pulling on the bell cord and wondering what strangeness lay within.
 
The door was opened by a powerfully built, tall, statuesque, black woman. It was somewhat unusual in these parts and took Arkwright by surprise.
 
It had been some years since slavery had been abolished in England. Admittedly Bristol had been the centre for trade and had, consequently, been the last place to throw off its mantle; but most of the freed black slaves had returned to wherever they called home. Arkwright supposed that the woman who had answered the door was one that was still bound here by some contract from which she was yet to be released.
 
She invited him to wait in the hall. It was cold, sparse, frugal and not decorated in any way at all. There were no carpets, no pictures, no drapes and only minimal furniture permitting just the basic comforts to those that waited there. There was a round dark oak table in the centre of the room with a few sturdy, upright chairs around it. He pulled one out, sat down and contemplated his surroundings. A staircase stood opposite the front door that, had it been carpeted, he would have described as grand. Four dark wood doors were contained within the otherwise blank walls. Where they led he had no idea, but from one of them just then Buckingham was entering and warmly greeting him like an old friend.
 
“My dear fellow, how good it is to see you. Thank you for coming. I trust your journey was none too tedious. Come, let me take you to the Temple of Earthly Delights” He chuckled and led the way through one of the doors.
 
“I am sure that you will be stimulated and, hopefully, inspired by what I have brought you here to see. The event you are about to witness here is a regular occurrence. It takes place just about every month whenever I have a fresh intake of girls, but you are the first outsider to witness this induction ceremony. We conduct this little ceremony to get the precious darlings accustomed to my way of doing things. We have two pretty little things to deal with this morning and I am quite sure that you will appreciate how important and effective are your devices when you see them in operation. Their guardians have paid me well to correct their attitudes; they both seem quite wilful, so I want to do a good job and it will be useful for you to see how it all works.”
 
While talking, Buckingham had been leading Arkwright along a corridor and down a small flight of steps into a large stone cellar with a hard floor; a windowless room lighted by a huge candelabra that hung from the high ceiling. Arkwright recognised many of his own contraptions within this room. There was the gin frame - a trestle like horse with a sharp hard wood apex and shackles for wrists and ankles down each side; the padded whipping bench, a set of stocks and a pillory. His latest ladder like device was leaning against one of the glazed brick walls.
 
Thick oak beams supported the ceiling and from one of these a rope and pulley was attached. This was not of his making and, to Arkwright; it appeared somewhat out of place and crude by comparison to his own creations of which he was justifiably proud. Apart from the obvious practicality it had as a hoist, he could not understand what purpose it might otherwise serve in this cellar. The rope was looped through the pulley, to the free end of which a hook was tied while the other was secured to a capstan mounted on the adjacent wall. Its purpose, he supposed, was soon to become quite clear, for just at that point two pathetic looking young girls of pubescent age were being led forcibly by the hair into the cellar by two powerful black women, one of whom was the servant that had just greeted him at the door.
 
“What do you think of my two black beauties then Arkwright” enquired Buckingham proudly referring to his servants. “They came to me a year ago from the West Indies.”
 
This was not at all what Arkwright had expected.
 
“I was offered them by a plantation owner in payment for services rendered. When I set eyes on them I could not resist owning them. Magnificent beasts aren’t they? A real investment I assure you. Look at the power in those arms and backs. That’s what you get when you have to pull sugar-beet out of hard ground with your bare hands from a tender age. The kiss of the whip on those bare backs does a good job in building up strength as well of course, and teaches obedience; but apart from their sheer power and obedience, they have an extra skill that I knew would come in very useful in an establishment such as this: one woman is right handed while the other swings from the left. They don’t tire easily either”.
 
Arkwright had always admired the physical prowess of the black races and had to admit that these were perfect specimens. They stood more than six foot high, towering over the waifs in their grasp, their ebony flesh contrasting strongly with the peachy white skin of the smaller girls. Each had hold of a handful of the fair hair of the complaining white girls and, with powerful extended one-armed stretches, almost lifted them off their feet as they danced them on tip toe into the cold cellar.
 
“Up against the wall with them” ordered Buckingham “while I explain to them why they’re here”.
 
The two terrified girls were dragged to metal rings attached to the walls, to which they were tethered with their arms above their heads. They were both bare footed and wearing nothing more than a smock made from coarse cloth that was draped over their shoulders down the back and front. It was open at the sides and tied at the waist with a cord. It must have been some relief to them that they were no longer being pulled by the hair for, now that their feet were flat on the ground, they had stopped complaining and just hung there pathetically looking dejected.
 
Buckingham took up his position directly in front of the girls with the black women in attendance either side, hands on hips, both impassively looking down on the two wretches.
 
Arkwright could not imagine what these young girls had done to be in such an unfortunate situation as this, but from what Buckingham had already told him, nothing at all would be enough considering that their guardians had actually paid to put them here. One thing was sure in his mind though, they were certainly in for a bad time and he found it difficult to reconcile the cruelty inherent in Buckingham, whom he had always thought of as a kindly, generous gentleman, to countenance this sort of treatment of those so young and vulnerable.
 
“Now then young ladies, you are here to learn some important lessons about life”. Buckingham began to address the two hapless waifs.
 
“You have both reached that age when your bodies are beginning to make certain demands upon your moral bearing.
 
Even though you have been brought up correctly, by caring and loving guardians that have always had only the very best intentions for you and who have sent you to the best schools and put you under the tutelage of the strongest custodians of your morality; in the next few years, before you are fully matured, you will be faced with many moral dilemmas. Chemical and hormonal changes that are now taking place in your bodies at this age will cause you to behave in ways that will surprise you. You will get urges and desires, the sort you will have never of had before, that you will not be able to comprehend. These desires, if they go unchecked will place the preservation of your virtue and chastity in extreme danger.”
 
He continued, to Arkwright’s way of thinking, in this pompous manner for a full ten minutes, lecturing them on the pitfalls of loose living and the kind of life to be expected by women of easy virtue. He talked of the whores plying their trade in the city’s back streets and the grim life that became of them, the venereal diseases, insanity and early deaths. Then he began to explain his methods and how he intended to purge impure thoughts and desires from their vulnerable minds.
 
These stemmed, he conjectured, from feelings that began in the most sensitive and erogenous areas of their young bodies and that his intention was to exorcise those demons by stimulating the sensitive parts beyond the level of endurance, and by so doing, enable them to recognize the demons early and equip them with foresight and strength to deny them before they succumbed.
 
“So by the time we have finished with you, young ladies, you will be excruciatingly aware of your bodies and the manner of feelings that originate from the naughty parts. You will need to be on your guard against the urges that these feelings cause if your virtue is to remain intact.” Buckingham concluded.
 
So that was how it was to be reconciled, thought Arkwright. This man honestly believes that he is saving these young women from the devil and all his evil temptations. He might be a saint after all.
 
Buckingham then ordered one of the poor girls into the centre of the cold cellar to stand on a wooden box positioned beneath the hanging rope. Her wrists were tied to the rope and the capstan was used to hoist her to the full extend of her reach. There was an expression of overwhelming terror on her face as she began to realize her predicament. The coarse cloth smock covering her body was removed over her head and she stood there, stretched and totally naked.
 
Then the box on which she was standing was kicked out from beneath her and she was stretched even further so her toes hardly touched the ground.
 
Arkwright was mesmerised at the site of this young nude. He gazed upon her recently formed breasts with rosebud nipples and her firm creamy white body. He had never set his eyes upon a vision as lovely as this and it was having a profound effect on him. He felt guilty about his own thoughts, the same kind of thoughts that were about to be purged from this poor young thing dangling before him.
 
“Isn’t that a lovely sight Arkwright? The innocence of youth presented, head to toe, before you. Just feast your eyes on that tender skin and the perfect formation of those slender limbs. Look at those tiny feet and the way those wriggling toes try to cling to the ground so desperately. How sweet those tits, exquisitely formed, untouched and still so young. Look at the way those pert little rosebuds poke up so proudly. Come on, come over here and get a closer look.”
 
Despite his feelings of guilt, Arkwright eagerly took the few steps to be beside Buckingham and to stand closer to the dangling display. He feasted his eyes on the texture of her taught skin; the sheen of youth gave it a glazed appearance in the flickering light of the candles. He was amazed at its beauty and began to examine it closely in detail. He scanned every texture of the suspended form, every contour, the way the skin gently folded over the puppy muscles and tighter over the thin bones. He scrutinized the shape of her breasts and the colour of her nipples and longed to touch.
 
“Go on; give ‘em a squeeze,” Buckingham taunted, “I know you want to”. He goaded; and to illustrate the fact grabbed a handful of the soft white flesh himself.
 
Tentatively Arkwright reached out and cupped his hand under the softness of one breast. He stroked gently, lifting the soft partridge bosom as though testing its weight. All the girl could do was whimper.
 
“Now just feel the tenderness in those sweet nipples”, Buckingham continued, passing his own thumb around the aurora of the rosy teat.
 
Arkwright followed suit feeling it become hard as blood flowed to the stimulated bud.
 
“This is the area to which we are going to concentrate the first of our treatments,” declared Buckingham, “some good licks of the strap should tenderise these little lemons nicely. So you’d better stand well back and let my black beauties get to work on them”.
 
With that the black women each picked up a leather strap from a table nearby. Arkwright regarded the strap with some interest. A three foot length of smooth leather about a quarter of an inch thick and three wide was fastened to a wooden handle. It reminded him of the strop he used to brighten his razor, except that the end of this strap was split into three tails about four inches long. His professional curiosity was fascinated by the tails and he calculated that they were fashioned in such a way to spread on impact and thereby cause a sharper sting when brought down on bare skin.
 
The two black women took up their positions either side and behind the suspended victim. They had done this before; it was obvious as they knew exactly where to stand so that the full length of the strap from their extended strong arms would wrap itself around the side of this poor girl’s young breasts.
 
Then they got to work.
 
At intervals of twenty seconds or so, the straps would be brought down flat and as hard as they could muster, first from one side then the other, the tails winding their ways around and cruelly licking the tender flesh with a loud crack. The girl screamed as her breast flattened with the impact then jiggled back into place as the onslaught continued stroke after stroke. After some minutes her breasts had turned a bright scarlet red.
 
Buckingham raised a hand for it to stop while he examined the effects. He scrutinized each one in turn, lifting the rosy parcel by its tip as he searched the underneath to ensure that the tails had visited every area. The poor girl just hung there sobbing deeply.
 
He was not yet satisfied. “Carry on”, he instructed and the strapping resumed.
 
Arkwright could hardly bear to watch, and yet his fascination was drawn to the sight of this fair young lass being cruelly whipped so unmercifully. He wondered how all this was affecting the other whose turn it was next. She too was crying at the suffering of her companion, except that, within the confines of her bondage to the wall, she had somehow managed to avert her head, she was that loath to view what she knew would soon be happening to her.
 
The dangling girl’s breasts had now turned purple and were swollen to almost twice their normal size. Buckingham once more raised his hand for the lashing to stop. Again he began to inspect the result, but this time he squeezed each tender morsel much to the distress of the hapless victim. He called Arkwright over.
 
“See how we test the result Arkwright; watch as I squeeze and see where my fingers have been. The skin turns white just there. Now see how quickly it returns to colour when I release my grip. If it turns blue again as soon as I loose my grip, like this, then it is ready”.
 
He was talking like a baker of buns from the oven.
 
Then he took each nipple and rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.
 
“There is still some softness remaining here though. Come, feel for yourself.”
 
Arkwright did the same with the other nipple and actually thought it felt painfully hard.
 
“These should be as hard as bullets. Now come forward my beauties and give everything you’ve got to these little buds from the front. We’d better both stand behind now Arkwright, but it’s just as sweet a view I assure you.”
 
They changed places with the black women who now proceeded to bring the leather down, from each side, onto the girl’s chest. From the rear they watched as she squirmed and they heard her scream. Her head was back as she howled and her fair hair reached halfway down her back. She was twisting and turning in an effort to remove her sore breasts from the sting of the straps. Each turn brought her legs up, one after the other as the straps landed; then they would stretch for the floor.
 
Arkwright was now fascinated at the movement of her little bottom as this dance took place. The pert cheeks would jiggle and wriggle as she desperately sought purchase with her toes to the floor.
 
“Look at those little buttocks moving Arkwright. Isn’t that a lovely sight? See the way they bunch up as her back bends.”
 
It was clear that Buckingham was enjoying this and it renewed the doubts that Arkwright had about the integrity of his intentions. Was he really so concerned about the moral welfare of his so called disciples or was he harbouring more sinister desires of the kind that Arkwright was now labouring with on account of his own feelings of guilt.
 
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden and anguished crying from the disciplined girl as the intensity and speed of the lashings increased. It was building to a crescendo and Arkwright was grateful that, at least, this might signify an end to her suffering.
 
“This is the sort of treatment that this young lady needs Arkwright,” Buckingham shouted over the noise of the screams and the lashing, “and the first time that any young rake wants to indulge in a little fondling, she’ll remember this and maybe think before she allows it. Now just look at those jiggling bottom cheeks, feast your eyes on the soft under-flesh, the parts that bounce as she brings her legs down. That’s where our next endeavours will be directed and this is where the qualities of your splendid contraption will be put to the test.”
 
Buckingham raised his hand and the proceedings abruptly stopped.
 
The girl hung there sobbing, her head now bowed but bobbing to the sound of her gasps.
 
“This girl has no other thought right now than the pain in her tits.” Buckingham continued matter of factly. “Her whole being is centred upon the tips of those breasts and the sensitivity that surrounds them. Even a draught of cold air right now would send shudders of pain through her entire body. That is the exact state of consciousness that we are aiming for; an awareness of those organs that, up until this moment, have merely held a naïve fascination and, possibly, the occasional moment of pleasure for her at their touch. Now we must achieve that same state to those other areas where her fingers might delve and linger a while longer than is healthy when at times that she is alone and exploring her new found pleasures; so as to inhibit and deter the lustful and willful addiction to that pleasure.
 
Now tel me Arkwright, have you ever witnessed a young woman being birched?”
 
Arkwright had to admit that he had not.
 
“Well you’re in for a treat in that case my good fellow, for this is to be a spectacular exhibition for you. Now, over in that corner,” he pointed to the corner nearest to where the ladder was leaning, “you will find a barrel of brine in which some birch rods are soaking. Bring one here please, you need to have one in your hand to appreciate how this is to work.”
 
Arkwright went to the corner where the barrel of brine was located. In it were ten or twelve bundles of birch branches bound at the thick end, soaking with the twiggy ends immersed in the brine. He selected one and regarded it with interest. Six slender Silver Birch branches, about one yard long, fanned out from where they were gathered together at the thicker end with ribbon. There was a further binding about half way down the shaft. Most of the thin twigs along the length of the bundle had been removed, except that a brush of about eight or so inches remained at the business end.
 
This brush was saturated and heavy with the brine. Arkwright shuddered as he contemplated the effectiveness of this formidable weapon as he imagined it being whipped against soft sensitive skin. He returned with the rod to where Buckingham was standing behind the intended victim.
 
“Now just test the whippiness of those twigs. Grab a hold and see how supple they are.” Arkwright took the bundle in his hand and flicked it up and down. There was a frightening swishing sound as he did.
 
“I have a plantation of young Silver Birch trees here in these grounds. These branches were cut just three days ago and have been soaking ever since. The brine is absorbed into the saplings, they become saturated and heavy, so they remain nice and swishy; just right for bringing a nice sharp sting to bare skin. The brine also works to clean the wound when the skin breaks of course; it hurts like billy-ho mind you.” He chuckled.
 
Arkwright moved his wrist up and then down with force to assimilate a whipping. The sound turned into a horrifying whistle and droplets of liquid flicked off.
 
“Now just take a bit of this soft skin between your fingers. Here, just where buttock ends and thigh begins.”
 
Arkwright pinched an inch of the girl’s white bottom flesh and held it between his fingers. He noticed how soft and delicate it was, like a fresh peach. At the same time he tested the birch up and down with the other hand. He watched the twigs, heavy with liquid, they seemed alive as they separated and cut through the air.
 
“You can imagine now I’m sure how that is going to feel when those vicious little twigs start biting into these tender parts.
 
Now, let’s get her up onto that splendid machine of yours Arkwright and we can put it to the test.”
 
With that the black women lowered the hoist and almost carried the girl across to face the ladder where she was fastened by her wrists to the apex of the triangle. She was much smaller than the height of the frame so her little ankles reached just below the second rung up.
 
“Let’s try her on the fourth wrung,” suggested Buckingham eagerly wanting to explore the possible functions of this new device.
 
Her legs were drawn up and apart and loosely fastened to the outside rungs at the fourth position. This drew her knees up to her abdomen bending her legs at the buttock and allowing gravity to draw down the soft tissue in that area.
 
Buckingham selected a portion of the flesh there and tested it between his fingers.
 
“Oh perfect, lusciously loose and soft. Arkwright this device real y does have some splendid possibilities.” He began patting and stroking the girls bottom.
 
“This sensitive part here is presented in just the right position for a good sharp visit from Madame Birch.”
 
He then stroked between her legs with the palm of his hand flat against her vagina. The girl began to protest, but he ignored her.
 
“This part will not escape either. We’l soon see what the effect is when those nasty twigs venture into this area.” He removed his hand sniffing at his fingers as he did.
 
“Right then my beauties, grab yourselves one of the finer bundles from the barrel and let’s get going with ten good sharp quick ones each.”
 
The servants, who were familiar with the procedure and yet, had never encountered this new device before, needed to locate themselves in relation to the girl to cause the best possible impact from the rods. They settled for a position on each side, with their arms extended so the brush of twigs covered each pair of cheeks, and slightly forward so that the ends would wind around the hips. The target was a degree higher than their normal swing, so they would need to direct the action upwards.
 
Then the birching began.
 
The first two strokes brought an immediate response. The howl was ear piercing and the girl became a contorting mad thing tethered to the frame. She twitched out of control as wet birch twigs assaulted the tender skin at the base of her pert bottom. Her back arched and she desperately tried to come to terms with this different kind of pain being delivered to her most sensitive regions.
 
Nine more strokes from each side occurred in quick succession and her gyrations continued. She was trying to bring her legs together but the device held them apart, ineffectual they trembled uncontrollably. She was swinging from the tethering ring and her head was back in a contortion of hopelessness. Her cries were pitiful.
 
“Oh splendid, splendid,” Buckingham was overwhelmed and overjoyed, “what a marvel ous contraption. Come
 
Arkwright, see the results.”
 
Arkwright was pleased that his patron was so impressed, but was perturbed that he had become instrumental in causing such anguish to this poor young innocent girl. Nevertheless he took the few steps to share in Buckingham’s enthusiasm.
 
“Look at the placing of those markings.”
 
Angry thin wheals criss-crossed her cheeks, clearly defined in purple and red against the whiteness of her skin.
 
“See the way those wheals are raised and how they have turned blue where they cross.”
 
Buckingham then took a handful of skin from each side and spread her cheeks.
 
“Now see where the ends have explored this area and kissed these young lips. See how swollen they have become, and this after just a few strokes. This entire region is becoming engorged with blood as we watch. Soon she will no longer spare a thought for her poor little titties; there will be far more important things for her to worry about.”
 
Arkwright noticed where the ends of the birch had licked at her labia. Dark lines crossed and hard clusters of oval blood blisters decorated the area between her legs.
 
“Now let’s see if we can’t get some more blood raised here. Come on then my beauties, a little more vigour if you please and fresh birches whenever they seem needed.”
 
The birching resumed once more in earnest. The cellar was alive with the sound of swishing birch twigs and the victim’s screams.
 
Above all that though, another almost hysterical voice could be heard.
 
“Oh stop, please stop, I implore you. How could you be so cruel?” This was from the other tethered girl. Arkwright could not help noticing how cultured and of such good breeding she sounded.
 
She was mostly ignored, but her pleading became more intense and her insistence more desperate. Eventually Buckingham raised his hand for the birching to stop and went over to her. He took her face in his hands and enquired mockingly gently,
 
“What’s wrong my little sweetie, can you not wait for it to be your turn? For you are to be next you know? In just a little while, if you can wait that long, you can change places with your little sister here and let my beauties get to work on you.”
 
And then, with a look of pure hatred and anger on his face that surprised Arkwright, “Now shut that mouth of yours or I’l give you something to shout about.”
 
The girl became quiet.
 
Now that the sibling relationship between the two girls had been pointed out, Arkwright could see the resemblance. In which case they must both be of good breading he surmised, and the one at the wall was the older of the two. No doubt concerned and being protective of her younger sister. But what parents, or guardians, they must be, to have committed these two poor innocents to this kind of treatment, and to have parted with money as well? Sometimes the behaviour of the upper classes baffled Arkwright and he was glad that he was not of the same standing.
 
The air was filled once more with the sounds of screams and swishing and the occasional grunt from one of the black women as she put extra effort behind the stroke. The younger girl became delirious, bucking and straining against her bonds. So desperate was she to bring her legs together that they shook visibly. By now spots of blood had appeared on her hind quarters and she was a livid red colour from her waist right down to the backs of her knees and around her hips.
 
“Come on girls, time to change the rods by now surely?” Buckingham bellowed above it all.
 
There was a pause as fresh branches were selected. Then it began anew.
 
Arkwright could not believe that, after all this, the girl still had enough strength in her lungs to emit even more powerful screams; but she did as the new birches cut deeper into her flesh. This caused the skin to open up and blood ran freely down her legs.
 
“Oh, for the love of God, stop, you must stop this at once;” this came from her older sister. “How can you be so cruel? Can you not see that she has had enough?”
 
Buckingham went straight up to her and gave her a sharp slap with each hand across both sides of her face.
 
She was shocked; she looked disdainfully, and then she spat at him. This behaviour was so surprising from someone of such high breeding.
 
Immediately Buckingham raised his hand for the birching to end.
 
“See what I mean Arkwright, what did I tell you, wilful, totally wilful.” Buckingham turned to Arkwright, wiping the phlegm away as he did.
 
“But we have ways of dealing with this I assure you. Right, let’s get her onto the gin frame. She might as well discover now how we actually punish people here. Get the other one down as well, she’s had enough. Take her to the infirmary, and be sure to get plenty of brine into those wounds.
 
“Come Arkwright, a glass of port is called for after that display and I have a very fine Madeira to offer you. Let us retire to the lounge while my servants prepare things here. You’re about to see one of your other contraptions in action.”
 
Then he turned to the black women while leading Arkwright from the cellar. “Summon us when you are ready.”
 
 
 
 
 
3
 
 
 
If the cellar and the entrance hall were stark, cold and austere, the lounge was entirely different. Heavy drapes were drawn from the windows that let in wintry light, thick pile rugs dressed the dark wood polished floor, and a fire piled high with logs burned in a place that occupied nearly a third of one wall. Arkwright had felt chilled in the cellar, but here he was warm and soporifically comfortable. Buckingham bade him sit down gesturing to one of the many soft leather couches around the room. Arkwright felt awkward as he sank down into the comfortable sofa, feeling somewhat out of place in this room that resembled a gentleman’s club. He thought how affluent Buckingham must be and wondered if this venture was his only source of income or if it was just a pastime for him.
 
“There are many sources of income for me, but this is the one that brings me most satisfaction.” Then he changed the subject. “Look, it will take a while to settle that girl into the infirmary, so we have time for a little relaxation.”
 
Buckingham poured rich amber liquid from a decanter into two crystal glasses as he spoke and handed one to his guest.
 
“It may seem to you that I am hard on my little disciples; but I am a reasonable man and responsible for them while under my care. I take my responsibilities seriously. You must understand that I know what I am doing and I will make sure that their recovery is complete before they leave here. These girls are just two of many that have received this treatment, so I know what healthy girls of that age are capable of enduring. They are all personally vetted by me when I first meet their guardians and, I assure you that, if a girl is too young, weak or sickly, I will not accept them. That younger sister for example was close to being refused, she was barely old enough in my view; but I could tell that she had spirit and it was convenient for their guardian that they both attend at the same time, so I relented. I’m glad that I did for she took her treatment surprisingly well, and she will be as right as ninepence in a day or two, take my word for it. The good thing about the birch, Arkwright, is that, although it might look fearsome and deliver a mighty impact to the senses; the damage to the person is negligible. Yes, it is true that the skin is broken and the result appears gruesome, but that is mere surface damage and will heal as soon as the blood is stemmed. What do you think of the Madeira by the way, it’s a fine one do you not think?”
 
Arkwright was still lost in the thoughts of what he had just witnessed. His ears still rung with the sound of screams and he could not get images of a young writhing girl out of his mind. Interrupted from his reverie he quickly sipped from the glass in his hand. Although he had only sampled the odd sip of sherry in the past and was far from being an expert, the taste that met his lips and tongue was most agreeable; quite different from what he was used to and a look of intense pleasure filled his face.
 
“Special, isn’t it? I had a couple of crates selected for me in Funchal. They both made the journey to Lisbon and then to the West Indies, one went to the plantation owner from whom I acquired my black beauties, and the other returned again in the same vessel as they did. What an utter nonsense that you must do that to a fine wine in order to get this unique flavour; but well worth it in my opinion. Now where was I, are yes, the beauty of the birch? Now a caning on the other hand is an entirely different matter. You will witness one in just a little while when we punish that wilful sister, and believe me I intend to punish her very severely after that little outburst. The canes we use here are dark hardened Malacca.
 
They are quite flexible, but harder and heavier than the rattan canes in normal institutional use, so they deliver a more stinging bite. There are no knuckles along the shaft either, so you would need to really flog someone before the skin broke; but there is slightly more of a tendency to bruise than with lighter canes. Bruises take a while to go down and there’s the problem. It is not agreeable to me that I allow a girl to leave here with bruises still upon her, so I have to be sure that any likely wickedness is nipped in the bud during her first few days here when she can be punished severely enough to be sure that she’s learned her lesson; but while there is still time enough for her body to be unblemished for her departure. That’s where your devices come in Arkwright. They enable an edge of extra severity that I could not achieve otherwise within the time frame. You will see the effectiveness of these measures presently.”
 
They continued sipping from their glasses for some time with Buckingham doing all the talking. The effect of the Madeira wine and the monotonous tones was nearly sending Arkwright to sleep when a knock on the door startled him awake and one of the black women entered.
 
“So how is the youngster Beth?” Buckingham enquired. “Is she tucked up nicely and recovering satisfactorily?”
 
The black woman declared that the girl had fainted when the brine was poured into her wounds; but she was now conscious and, apart from being very sore in her breast and cunny, this was her word for it; was curled up now with her knees by her chin and her hands between her legs. This seemed to satisfy Buckingham.
 
“We’ll look in later when, and no doubt we will need to, we bring her sister up to join her.
 
“Come; let us return to the cellar.”
 
 
 
As they entered the cellar again Arkwright set eyes on the older girl occupying the gin frame, one of the first contraptions he had ever built for Buckingham. Then the brief had been for a device that would hold a person securely, in a forward facing kneeling position; in such a way that would provide no rest and would always present the buttock region high with nothing to obscure or hamper direct contact from a swinging whip or cane. The idea he had come up with was inspired by watching racing jockeys riding high out of the saddle and he had formed this fiendish device. Although Buckingham had seemed very pleased with the design when it had been completed, Arkwright had wondered if its practical application would match the theoretical scheme that had built it.
 
He had never seen it in operation, this was about to change.
 
The contraption had been brought into the centre of the cellar and straddling it was the older sister looking particularly worried. She was naked and Arkwright noticed now how much more flesh she had on her than her younger sister. Firm thighs clung in a desperate attempt to gain as much purchase as she could from the smooth surface of each side of the horse. This was in an effort to raise her vagina from penetration by the sharp hard wood apex of the frame that she rode.
 
Her knees were bent and her ankles had been brought back and clamped to metal points near the rear of the horse.
 
This threw her weight forward, but there was no support offered from her arms as these were also secured much lower down and to the front of the device. This position presented her ample round buttocks in such a way that they might be flogged from any position and from every angle. Clearly the vulnerability of her situation was apparent to her and this showed in her demeanour. When she saw Buckingham and Arkwright enter the room she became quite agitated.
 
Buckingham went straight up to her and, as if to demonstrate the level of power and control he had over everything and everyone in the room, began stroking her firm back and fleshy buttocks. She could do absolutely nothing to prevent this invasion of her body. He patted, stroked, kneaded her muscles and poked his fingers into just about every orifice open to him.
 
“Look at this splendid rump Arkwright” he was saying, “just see the amount of padding she has; just right for a damn good thrashing. Oh I can see that my beauties are going to have a good time with you my dear. I’ll make sure that they put every ounce of effort into this beating you’re going to get my girl. It’s no more than you deserve mind, spitting indeed, and from someone so refined as well?”
 
Then he selected an instrument that Arkwright had never seen before made of brass and leather and placed this over her head. This was not of his manufacture and he had a moment of professional jealousy. It was a bridle, but one that had been modified for human use.
 
“So, if you can’t keep your mouth shut, here chew on this, it will help you to keep it open instead.”
 
He opened her jaw and put the bit to the back of her teeth, then pulled the straps tight behind her head.
 
“You certainly won’t be able to spit with this in place my dear. You won’t be able to say much either, mind you, or scream for that matter.” He laughed cynically.
 
The girl was struggling while this was going on; but whenever she moved, she relaxed the grip with her thighs on the edge of the frame and she slipped down bringing her labia into uncomfortable contact with the top of the frame. The only way that she could get any relief was to stick her bottom high into the air. So she stopped struggling and just squatted there, straddling the gin frame, her head down with the cruel looking bit fixed tightly in her mouth and, presenting her bare bottom high for whatever treatment it was to get, awaited her fate.
 
“Now then my beauties, this young lady needs to be taught a sharp lesson. I want you both to select a stout number four medium cane and show her how we correct the behaviour of disrespectful girls at this institute. Give it to her good, she’s a strong girl with plenty of meat so make it hard so that she feels it, and keep it going until I tell you to stop.”
 
With that the black women went over to a rack on the wall where the canes were kept, categorised by length and thickness.
 
It was obvious to Arkwright that the severity of the punishment could be monitored by the choice of implement and that, from the canes that both women selected, he could tell that medium referred to the thickness and four referred to the length of four foot. They were both of dark smooth wood and, although of medium thickness at the handle end, tapered to a diameter the size of a pencil at the end that would whip down on the girls unprotected bottom. They took their positions either side of the squatting girl one pace forward of her rear end at a distance that would allow the ends of the canes to cover both naked cheeks. They both made a practice swing, the canes whistled angrily through the air, and then they were ready.
 
They brought the rods down, one after the other in a steady rhythm of about a half second between each stroke and five seconds between each pair: thwack thwack, rest, thwack thwack, rest. They put all their weight behind each stroke and delivered them with a strong bent arm movement from over the shoulder. Arkwright could only imagine that the speed and weight of each slender tip as it wrapped its painful impact around her naked globes must have been phenomenal.
 
From where he was standing he watched the face of the girl as each stroke struck home. Her eyes opened wide as each one landed and were then screwed tightly shut as the excruciating pain from each pair of strokes was absorbed. Visible signs of tears were apparent after a few strokes. He could see in her eyes that, had she been able to, she would have been screaming the place down from the outset. As it was she was only able to utter an animalistic growl through her pulled-back lips. She was bucking within the bonds of the gin frame and, following the immediate impulse to withdraw her cheeks from the stinging attack of the canes; her labia were brought into contact with the hard edge of the wooden apex; so her rational instinct was to then meekly present her hips high for further punishment. To Arkwright this action appeared lewd in the extreme as though, not only was she accepting the treatment, but she was asking for more.
 
Buckingham of course, who had seen all this before, knew otherwise and attributed this bizarre and suggestive looking behaviour to the design and engineering skills of his guest.
 
“Look at that Arkwright, see how well your machine works. Just look at the way she sticks her bum up each time for some more good hard whacks. Not that she wants to mind you; oh no, this young lady would give anything right now to bring her bottom down to where she might get just the slightest relief from those painful stripes. But there is nothing more precious to a maiden than to protect her little love hole; so as soon as she feels the hard edge of that saddle touching her lips she will instinctively think better of it. Not for much longer though. Let’s see exactly what value she puts on keeping herself intact. Come; let us view this from the rear.”
 
Buckingham raised his hand and the whipping immediately ceased.
 
Even the black women looked grateful of the rest. Like race horses that had been cantering over the jumps, steam rose from their skin moist with perspiration. Their breath came in gasps.
 
From the back Arkwright was aghast when he saw the state of the girl’s buttocks. Her puffy flesh was swollen and covered with twenty or more stripes from either side that criss-crossed the entire area with angry red wheels turning purple where they crossed. Amazingly she still held this beacon high, although Arkwright could see her adductor muscles straining to keep it aloft. She would momentarily take a gasp of deep breath, sigh and then relax and allow her vulva down onto the apex of the frame. Her labia lips would open and part as the contact was made and, for a short while at least, she could bear the hard protruding edge just to provide some support of her weight and relief to her aching thighs.
 
Buckingham was examining her punished cheeks in close detail, sketching the length of each wheel with the tips of his fingers. He seemed to be lost in the map of her torment. In the background the black women were removing their blouses, presumably to cool down. Arkwright was amazed at how naturally they stood there, naked to the waist without the slightest inhibition. It was obvious that this was their preferred mode of dress except that, no doubt had they been alone; they might have also thrown off their heavy black wool skirts and wide leather belts as well. He was impressed by the size of their breasts and how their muscles appeared firm and defined against the gloss of their moist ebony bodies.
 
They made a remarkable pair standing there in silence, he observed, with their black textured bodies and strong hands, wiping the detritus of a good whipping off the dark wood canes with the coarse cloth that had, just a few minutes ago, been the only cover protecting the hapless girl that now gasped and shuddered as she squatted on the frame.
 
“I think we can take this off now”. Buckingham interrupted his musings, unbuckling the straps from behind the girl’s head and removing the bridle. “She’ll have learnt by now that all we want to hear from this mouth are her screams. Those we will hear willingly of course, as much and as loud as she likes. It won’t make any difference mind; she’ll be flogged till it’s done, just the same.”
 
Once the bridle was removed the girl’s breathing was less strained as she was able to close her mouth between gasps.
 
She now looked quite calm and subdued, no doubt with exhaustion from her ordeal, and she had relaxed her thighs and remained with her vulva resting on the frame. It seemed to Arkwright that a moment of quiet peace had descended upon the group and he used the occasion to contemplate the events he had witnessed that morning:
 
Two young half naked girls had been dragged into this torture chamber by a pair of statuesque black women under the charge of a wealthy gentleman. The young girls had both been stripped. The breasts of one had been strapped blue and then she had been birched around her nether regions until she had bled while hanging from a structure that he had been instrumental in inventing. The other had been made to squat on a fiendish device, also of his design, that caused her so much discomfort that she would rather present her body up for extreme pain rather than succumb to its discomfort; and all of this in the pursuit of the preservation of the virtue of the young girls, and was commissioned and paid for by the ones appointed by the court to protect them.
 
He saw no irony in this, but it caused him to question the motivation and integrity of his patron and his own part in the events that had transpired. Clearly Buckingham enjoyed these events; this was apparent from his eagerness to keep things moving along, from his mutterings of delight and from the words he was using to describe the proceedings. Was his enthusiasm due though to the conviction that he held for the effectiveness of his methods, or to the fact that he was able to exert his control over vulnerable young women and had the power to make them suffer? It was also clear that he was a wealthy man and yet, to Arkwright’s reasoning, he did not have the bearing or the composure of a nobleman, in which case his wealth had been recently found. So how had he come by this wealth? Was it through trade in general, or was it solely from his ability to convince wealthy individuals to part with some of their wealth in his direction. But surely, persuading the wealthy classes that the continuing virtue of their wards and daughters might only be achieved by these dubious and expensive methods, would take some convincing he supposed.
 
As to his own part, he felt justified that he had remained professional in honouring the contracts he had made with his patron and, in the same way that he might accept a contract for the construction of, say, a carriage or a harpsichord for some other client, had agreed a fair price and been duly paid exactly what the job had entailed. He expected no more or less. Buckingham had told him that he hoped he would gain further inspiration from witnessing this event, he had offered no payment for his time in attending, and yet it was in his patron’s own interest that he should. So was he expected, in that case, to share the same enthusiasm that Buckingham had for witnessing the suffering of young naked females? He hoped not for, if so, had he not felt guilt earlier at the witness of precisely that suffering, he would be of the same mind as Buckingham; yet he was not entirely convinced that this treatment of young virgins was warranted.
 
Buckingham now seemed anxious to resume the proceedings and urged the black women on. They took up their positions as before and began again.
 
Without the bridle on the girl did scream, she howled her heart out.
 
The canes descended with an almighty crack again and again, wrapping the ends with vicious force around her already well welted hips and bare bottom. Each stroke caused her cheeks to jiggle and flinch. With Buckingham and Arkwright now standing behind, they were able to watch as her vagina made contact with the timber of the frame and her labia opened to receive it. Before too long though she had ceased to keep her hips high and was pressing her vulva onto the apex, her swollen lips were now spread in an intimate kiss of the polished wood. The strokes rained down fast and hard and the contortions of the girl became more frantic. Soon, a rhythmic and involuntary dance took over with the girl pumping away at the wood and sliding back and forth along its shiny edge. She was oblivious now of any previous concern she had shown for the sensitivity of her female genitalia and appeared in a parody of ecstasy. Her head was back; her breasts, now also gorged with blood from her gyrating around, beat time either side of the frame, her nipples stood erect at their tips.
 
“Just look at that Arkwright. Isn’t that a splendid sight? See the way my bare breasted black beauties swing those whips with such vigour. They could keep this up al day if I deemed it necessary.”
 
Buckingham was almost shouting over the commotion of lashings, grunts and screams.
 
“Watch as she rides that horse, look at it go. What a shame she has no saddle though, I’m sure it would be more comfortable.” He let out a laugh and Arkwright felt a shudder of disgust move through him at this coldness. He had the feeling that he no longer wanted to be party to this.
 
“Arkwright you have no idea how good it is to share all this with you”, he continued to bellow. “Especially as you have such an understanding of the good work I am achieving here.”
 
Arkwright felt a wave of anger overcome him at this last remark. How could Buckingham possibly presume Arkwright’s endorsement of these actions? He was tempted to react in order to put the record straight; but was it worth alienating this wealthy sponsor for the sake of his pride? He thought better of it and remained silent. The urge to remove himself from this place of suffering became much stronger though and he turned his back on the grisly proceedings.
 
After a while the sound of the screams subsided and became silent. Then the whipping stopped and all he could hear was the panting of the black women as they came to rest. The silence was overpowering and Arkwright feared the worst and that they had killed the young girl. Had he become an accomplice to the mortal flogging of a virgin he wondered?
 
With a heavy heart and much foreboding he turned around. With much relief he noticed that she was still breathing but had fainted and was slumped over the frame with her head to one side.
 
“Well I think we can safely assume that this lesson has been well learnt”. Buckingham was examining the rear end of the girl. It was black and blue and a mass of swollen stripes. In some places the skin had broken and drops of blood trickled forth. Not one inch of untouched skin remained from her waist to the backs of her knees.
 
“So what do you think of this then Arkwright? Have I not done a proper job on this wilful wretch here? Do you not think that her behaviour will be more respectful after this? She will be laid down, next to her sister in the infirmary for a few days and then will be as right as rain once the bruises have disappeared. She still has the same treatment as her sister to look forward to mind you; she’ll not escape the tit strap and the birch, this was a punishment justly deserved. We’ll take care of that next week though before we send her home. So Arkwright, have I not earned my modest fee and done the right thing by her guardian? He will be more than satisfied at the improvement to the demeanour of both these young ladies when they are returned to him, you can be certain of that. It will only need the prospect of a further visit to this splendid establishment for them to quickly correct any future transgressions. And, if mention of these benefits should be expressed to others in their guardian’s circle, then I can be sure of a continued occupation of this nature. That, my dear Arkwright, is how it all works. So, tell me, do you now feel satisfied at the practical application of your designs and sufficiently stimulated and inspired to create more wonderfully fiendish machines for my future use in this fine establishment?”
 
Arkwright in fact felt disgusted and, at the same time, ashamed. He was disgusted at the hypocrisy of Buckingham in claiming to protect the morals of virtuous virgins while satisfying his own lustful inclinations and violating the innocence of those he was pertaining to preserve. He felt ashamed at his own part in these actions.
 
“When I build a harpsichord it remains tuneful despite the talent of the musician” Arkwright enigmatically replied and wondered if the subtlety of his answer was lost on his patron.
 
He did feel inspired, but only to have nothing to do with Buckingham and his dubious methods in the future. He resolved that, the next time he was presented with one of Buckingham’s amateurish sketches, rather than be intrigued and anxious to develop the kernel of an idea; now that he had seen a practical demonstration of their uses, would simply pretend an overwhelming workload and concentrate his skills on the building of harpsichords, carriages, even chicken coops, anything that would perform a more worthwhile function than those to which this patron had commissioned him for hitherto.
 
Tomorrow would find him penitent at the chapel, on his knees, praying for forgiveness and imploring of the Lord for the salvation of the soul of Buckingham.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
11,690 words
 
 

 
   
(The End)