The idea for this story came up recently when I attended a theatre opening.

It has lots of my favourite fetish themes in it including bodily functions and discipline, so if that is in any way offensive to you please look elsewhere. All characters are over 18.

*****

She was late, but not yet very late. It was only just gone ten past and we’d been due to meet in the Stalls Bar at 2pm.

Even so, it was not a very promising start. I fiddled with my glass of Prosecco impatiently and thought about the last months and everything that had led up to this.

***

It had been Sally who’d started the whole thing off. That Friday in July as she was doing my nails. I sat there trying not to concentrate on her mundane chatter, but when she’d started regaling me with the tale of another client’s sister she piqued my interest. As time went on, it dawned on me that I knew who she was talking about.

I’d known Lavinia Lascelles for years. We were the same age and had been on the same dinner party circuit whilst we were both unattached and living in Battersea. Then she’d met that oaf Dominic and they’d got married and moved to Barnes.

Her sister Virginia had never really featured that much, either in conversation or in person. I’d a vague recollection that she’d moved to Canada or Australia, but that was about it.

Sally started to tell me about how Lavinia’s sister had been in for a trim and then said she’d never known anyone with so many piercings in her.

“I mean her left ear probably had six rings in it and one of those funny bars across it,” she started. “It was quite difficult to not catch them with the scissors…” and she pulled a face at me in the mirror.

“I mean I’m quite broad minded and all that but why would you do that to yourself? I mean she’s quite a pretty little thing really. Painfully thin though, and she’s got no boobs to speak of. She’s a bit mousy brown, if you know what I mean. She could make so much more of herself… She just sat there with a sullen look on her face and barely said a word. And then when I remarked about all the rings in her ear, she said she’d got 18 piercings in total…can you imagine that? I mean where were all the others?

She pulled another face as she buffed the nail on my index finger.

“I mean why would you want so many? I think she must be a Lez you know…I know she’s got no boy friend, she told me that..

And you’d never guess, when I’d finished and…well she was wearing a sort of tank top body, and as she went to put her coat on I could see that she didn’t shave if you know what I mean…great tufts of hair sprouting out of her armpits there were. Would you believe it?…Un-hygienic if you want my opinion…”

My mind had started to wander at that point, so I paid little attention to Sally’s gossip for the rest of the appointment. I thought about Virginia Lascelles and her 18 piercings and wondered how I could meet her.

I was looking for someone new to amuse me, and Sally inadvertently had set me thinking…

***

Getting to know Virginia proved to be easy. A bit of detective work and a trip to Barnes resulted in her sister Lavinia and I meeting for lunch in a wine bar.

We hadn’t seen each other for a few years so there was plenty to catch up on. She was now a mother of a little girl, Georgia, who she was clearly crazy about. It made for easy conversation for a while and the first bottle of Chenin Blanc slipped down with alacrity.

Half way through the second bottle I idly introduced Virginia’s name into the conversation, and without any prompting was rewarded with a full analysis of her sister’s strengths and weaknesses. After four glasses of wine Lavinia’s judgement was sufficiently blurred to open up completely.

It seemed that Virginia was living in Watford in a tiny studio flat and trying to write for a living. It clearly did not pay very well, as she was sponging off their father, who could ill afford the extra outgoings.

“I mean she’s thirty six for god’s sake Jane, and she hasn’t got any money. She spent ten years with that woman in Toronto. I knew nothing good would come of it all along, but she wouldn’t hear any criticism…it was such a waste of her time. She could have done so much better if she’d never got tangled up with her and stayed in England.

I really worry she’s going to end up as a dry old spinster working in some god awful library.

She needs taking in hand and sorting out…I wish I had the time to do it but I’m a full time Mum now. And the other thing is that Dommo won’t have anything to do with Virginia, he’s completely homophobic…”

“I’m sorry to hear all that Lavinia. What is the actual problem with Virginia? I mean is it drugs or drink related?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that thank god, or at least to the best of my knowledge. No…” and she paused and took another mouthful of wine, “the problem is more attitudinal. She keeps upsetting her agent and publisher. She’s actually got some talent, but she’s… how shall I put it… rather too direct with those that she needs to cultivate. She’s also bone idle if you ask me. The state of her flat when I last visited recently was diabolical. There were dirty dishes and empty takeaway boxes everywhere, and her bedroom floor was covered with dirty clothes. I mean who leaves their dirty knickers lying around so anyone can see them?

Then there was the bathroom. It’s probably best I don’t go in to too much detail about that I don’t want to put you off your lunch…”

“Oh!” I said, and put a hand to my mouth in mock horror.

She went on anyway, “I mean how can anyone not keep their toilet respectable?’

“Well that’s disgusting,” I added, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in my head. “Tell me Lavinia, has she always been so indolent?”

“Oh goodness no. Mummy was very strict with us when we were younger. She would never have put up with anything like this from either of us. She was still using a slipper on us in our late teens, and I remember she caught Virginia watching porn just before she died and caned her bottom in front of me.”

“Gosh,” I said. “Caned her? You mean properly caned her?”

“Yes, made a right old job of it if I remember correctly. Six of the best on her naked bottom. Virginia holding on to the back of a dining chair with her legs splayed and everything on view. Those stripes blistered and bruised quite badly as I recall, but it certainly pulled Virginia into line for a few weeks.”

“Sounds like she’s rebelled against normal decency to me. I wonder…” but I never finished the sentence, as at that moment the food arrived.

Over the course of lunch we spoke of other things. Lavinia asked me about my situation and I was able to illuminate her on my good fortune since we had last met. I enjoyed telling her about my home in Notting Hill and how I only worked when I wanted to. When she quizzed me as to the nature of my work I was reasonably honest in answering that I was a Life Coach specialising on working with women with “special needs.”

Lavinia’s eyebrows raised and she put her fork down as if she was about to ask me about what that meant but then thought better of it.

I talked more about my loyal staff, Irma my German housekeeper, and Andrew and Petra, who worked for me on a consultancy basis, but was deliberately vague as to what their roles were.

Lavinia sat there chewing on a piece of pork listening to this, her mind clearly processing what I was telling her and then asked.

“And do you treat your clients at home, or do you have an office? she asked.

“That depends on the client and what we are working on,” I replied. “I do have a small suite of rooms on the top floor of the house that clients stay in from time to time, particularly if we are working intensely.”

“How interesting,” Lavinia replied. I detected a hint of restlessness and excitement in her as she realised I might be able to assist her in her dilemmas with Virginia. I decided not to push it and let Lavinia make the first move.

In the event she chose to keep quiet and we finished lunch and coffee without further mention of either my work or Virginia. As we parted though she asked me for my telephone number, ostensibly so we could keep in touch. I gave it to her fully expecting she would be ringing me within a week, and soon, the troublesome Virginia would be on my client list…

***

It was less than 24 hours later that I took the call from Lavinia. She asked if we could meet as she wanted to talk to me some more about Virginia. I invited her to come to the house that for a drink that evening, and she enthusiastically accepted. I smiled to myself as I put the phone down, my plan was working perfectly.

“If I’m going to take her on, we will need a proper contract and I’ll require quite a lot of background information on Virginia from you,” i said pleasantly to Lavinia who was ensconced in the leather sofa in my study the following evening, a large glass of Chablis in her hand.

“Yes of course, whatever you require. Dommo and I discussed this last night. We want everything to be done correctly. What exactly do you need?”

I handed a buff envelope over to Lavinia. and whilst she opened it and studied it, I went fo the kitchen to fetch the little appetisers Irma had prepared for us that afternoon.

I returned and put them on the coffee table and resumed my place opposite. I’d chosen to wear my black Karen Millen suit with a cream blouse that evening. It set the right formal tone for the meeting.

“It’s very detailed isn’t it?” Lavinia remarked as she turned the pages.

“I find it best to be that way at the start of any engagement.”

“I see,” Lavinia replied. “I’m sure I can get this all completed, though as to whether it’ll be accurate, particularly this section on her sexual history and preferences I won’t have a clue. Is it really necessary?”

“Yes, very much so,” I replied, “though the accuracy of the history is not that important. I find some clients are naturally reticent to reveal such intimacies whilst others over embellish. It doesn’t matter much. During our time together the truth of the clients needs normally becomes apparent. You note that there are various release clauses at the end that must be signed Lavinia. I will not take Virginia on if those are not signed. I want it clear that sexual contact may be involved as well as physical punishment for misdemeanours and medical treatments as prescribed by my associate Petra who is a fully qualified Psychiatrist and Gynaecologist practising in the city.”

“Sexual contact?”

“Yes sexual contact.”

“Gosh! I see.” Lavinia was slightly lost for words at this revelation. She appeared torn between wanting to ask me exactly what that might entail and just handing over her problem sister to someone me to deal with. She knew Virginia seemed submissive, but should she delve into the details? The contract brought to focus exactly how basic things might get…and there was yet to be a discussion about cost…

We’d finished a second bottle and the sun was setting by the time I acceded to Lavinia’s wishes to see where Virginia would live if she signed her on.

The top floor of the house had historically been servant’s quarters. When I’d taken Irma on as my housekeeper, I’d refurbished one of the two rooms completely. It had a queen size bed, armchair, dresser and built in wardrobe. The oatmeal carpet was recently new. Opposite the window was a small vanity unit.

“Where’s the shower and toilet?” Lavinia asked. “In here?” and she opened the other door on the landing before I could stop her.

I followed her into the back room.

“It’s just another study bedroom,” I said rather sheepishly as Lavinia looked around the sparsely furnished space.

“It looks rather more sinister than that Jane. It looks like the sort of room a poor housemaid would have lived in 100 years ago,” and she tested the unsprung mattress of the small iron bedstead gingerly.

“Well that’s what it was Lavinia,” I just haven’t had time to re-decorate it yet.

“I can imagine a poor miscreant being confined to this room to atone for their misdemeanours Jane. Would I be getting closer to the real reason why it hasn’t been restored?” The dark floor boards creaked a she went over to the un-curtained window.

“I won’t mislead you Lavinia. It has been used for that purpose occasionally, and I closed the door to reveal in the corner the old brass shell case with it’s contents of canes, quirts, and birch twigs.

Lavinia walked over to it and rummaged through the contents. She pulled out a thin cane with a curved handle and idly swished it.

“Yes Jane, I think this is exactly what’s required, don’t you?”

“I think it’s a little premature to say that Lavinia. Let’s see how Virginia responds to some less forceful treatment first shall we?”

“You’re the expert Jane. Tell me how would you suggest we proceed, on the proviso we get all the paperwork and costs agreed?”

“What I’d like to do is for Virginia to come and stay for a couple of nights so we can have an informal session or two and also get Petra to check she’s physically healthy. If all goes well then we’ll move her in for a two week intense session. After that, treatment will depend on what we find. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like relief could be on the horizon Jane. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you helping me.”

“Well, I haven’t helped yet Lavinia, and of course it might make no difference. By the way, do you intend to tell Virginia we are old friends?”

“Absolutely not. Let’s keep this completely professional.”

“As you wish. Tell me what sort of feedback do you want? Email phone call, one to one meeting?”

“I think a phone call once a week,” she said rather dis-interestedly, opening the small bedside cabinet and studying the old fashioned chamber pot within.

“As you wish Lavinia. Come on, let’s go downstairs and finish our wine.”

” I would like to see the bathroom she will use?”

“Of course,” I replied. As we went back downstairs I showed her the bathroom with it’s walk in double shower and toilet and bidet. It was adjacent to the master suite so there were two doors. Lavinia was impressed by it’s size and quality, and if she noticed the strategically placed rings in the walls and ceiling she decided not to comment on them.

I was also confident she hadn’t seen any of the CCTV cameras which covered every room she had visited…

Within a few minutes we were back in my study. She soon finished her drink, gathered the papers and after a brief embrace bade me farewell.

***

The signed documents arrived by courier the following Thursday. The bank transfer hit my client account the same day. I e-mailed Lavinia with a complete set of instructions for next steps that evening suggesting a meeting at the theatre. A farce by Michael Payne to relax Virginia and I before heading home to Notting Hill.

***

At a quarter past she walked in to the bar. She was slightly taller than I expected, but the familial resemblance to Lavinia was unmistakeable, it was the long thin nose and pointed jaw that did it. She was undoubtedly pretty of feature, but she wore a rather sullen expression. I raised my hand in recognition which she saw immediately and made her way over to me.

She was dressed in an off white crepe de chine, button through, fitted dress which had short sleeves. It finished just above the knee and accentuated her slight figure perfectly. As Sally had described, she had little or no bust, but the dress’s deep neckline disguised that well.

She was carrying a full backpack.

I stood and offered her my hand which she took but did not grip.

“Hello Virginia,” I said smiling to try and welcome her.

“Hello,” came the reply in a rather squeaky voice.

“I bought you a glass of Prosecco, which you can take into the auditorium if you like.”

“Thanks. Sorry I’m a bit late, the trains to Euston were shit today.”

“That’s alright, it happens.”

She seemed reluctant to look me in the eye.

As Sally had said, she was mousey brown. Her hair flowed down below her shoulders. It was absolutely straight, thick and shone with good condition.

“You look lovely,” I said warmly, trying to get a conversation going.

“Thanks,” came the mono-syllabic reply.

I tried again.

“Do you like comedies?”

“Not particularly. I’ve always preferred a good drama.”

“Well this has had very good reviews. Come on let’s go and sit down.”

She followed me meekly and we made our way to our seats. The house was now nearly full, and to get to our seats we had to climb over a number of others. I let Virginia go in front of me which gave me the chance to appraise her from behind. The backpack made the process of getting past other members of the audience inconvenient to say the least, but I was focussed on studying Virginia’s bottom, which was surprisingly pronounced. I could see the visible lines of her underwear which was darker than her dress. Clearly she’d not bothered with a slip.

We settled down in our seats, which were rather cramped. The Backpack was wedged between our legs, which was irritating, but there seemed no other option. The lights went down…

***

The play was very good. Well acted and hilarious. Even Virginia laughed out loud a few times which I found encouraging. I was particularly taken with one of the female leads. She had a gorgeous figure, high cheek bones and a beautiful chin length dark bob haircut.

I’d often thought a Bob might suit my face shape, but my hair wasn’t straight enough. Virginia, I mused, would look perfect with her hair like that…

As the lights went up, and the Safety Curtain came down to herald the interval, Virginia started fiddling in the pockets of the rucksack. After a while she retrieved the unmistakable shape of a tampon and waved it in front of me.

“Sorry, I’ve got my period,” she blurted out, to the astonishment of the young man she was sitting next to. “Just need to go and change my tampon in the Ladies,” and she started to clamber across the legs of the young man she was sitting next to. He was clearly very embarrassed at Virginia’s lack of discretion…

***

By the time she returned the interval was over and I’d eaten the Ice Cream I’d intended to share with her. Fortunately she didn’t say anything more about her visit to the toilets, and we settled down for the second Act.

Half way through, when the audience was well and truly won over by the hilarity of the play, I detected Virginia was fidgeting next door to me. I tried to ignore her, but her arm was moving about a lot, as if she’d got a live mouse in her lap and was trying to catch it.

After a minute or two longer, I leant over and rested my hand on her forearm. She froze instantly and stopped her fidgeting. I resumed my concentration on the play. I wouldn’t have thought anything more about it if it hadn’t been for the recognisable smell that caught my nose a few minutes later…it was unmistakeable. It was the smell of female arousal. Virginia had been masturbating, and I had caught her at it…

***

Andrew was waiting outside the theatre with the Mercedes. He held the door open for Virginia, and we settled into the familiar black leather. Within moments we were floating up Tottenham Court Road.