Opening Lady Jane’s Account

by

Aristocatch

Author's note : Anyone who has read the various accounts of Lady Jane's adventures should know that these accounts were originally written by her maid, Constance, and later sent to her mistress once she had left her employ to get married. Many years later these documents were found (in a very dilapidated state) and reconstituted by descendants of the two ladies, of whom more will be learned in due course.

Opening Lady Jane's Account

I have read most carefully the papers which Constance has sent me, and find that there is one account missing. I can only put this down to her desire to protect the person who used to be her mistress. After much thought I have decided that, in a desire for completeness, I should put pen to paper to address this omission.

I cannot remember the date, nor exactly how the event fits into the chain of the others. But I do remember that it was a bad day for me. Quite what had contraried me I cannot now recall, but I do remember that I was in an extremely bad mood, wanting to get even with everyone and anyone. They were not available and the only person left was my faithful servant Constance.

I therefore took her with me to the hayloft where we had taken Anne many months before. I had only one intention, to take out my frustration on Constance and to make her suffer. Hardly noble I know, but I was like that then – when frustration got the better of me. I suppose I should have known that Constance, however willing and devoted, was also her own person and nobody bested her just by so willing.

As I recall I did advise her that I wanted a hard fight – even if I did not tell her quite how hard. My intention was to force her into begging for mercy, submitting to me, to give me back some self esteem taken from me earlier in the day.

Between our combats with other people we did from time to time test our strength and fighting prowess on each other. We particularly enjoyed brief combats where any part of our bodies was an acceptable target. But there was never any animosity involved and we stopped as soon as one could take no more. Hard, but fair. There was never any sexual play. That was reserved for our sessions with other people.

We removed our clothes and began a rough, but controlled fight. By now we were fairly experienced and we knew each other well. We were thus able to protect our bodies better than had been the case. This entailed but fleeting moments in which to attack each others chests and even rarer moments to pull at the skin between our legs. The beginning that day followed our now standard course and Constance had no reason to suppose other than that it would continue that way.

But I wanted more. I could not dominate, so I seized Constance’s hair and used it to pull her body into a position where her breasts were readily available. I latched onto them and sought to inflict a maximum of pain. Constance tried to fight back, fairly, but my hold on her hair gave me a significant advantage. Still she stuck to our usual ‘rules’ and even then she managed to get hold of me between the legs.

I was mad to cause suffering. I pulled harder on her hair and she obviously realised that the usual rules were not applying. I then felt my scalp to be on fire and realised that she was pulling back. Abandoning her breasts I set to attacking her hair and she mine. This was a new kind of pain. But Constance kept a clear mind and still managed to target my body, seemingly with more painful intentions that was her wont.

Frustrated I abandoned her hair and latched onto both her breasts. She did likewise and we were there, attacking each others breasts, with no attempt at defence. Not content with the usual squeezing we attacked nipples with our fingers and then our nails, leaving wheals across our white skin. We pulled, squeezed, twisted, scratched and even bit each others breasts until we were both crying. But that did not stop us.

We sat and opened up our legs, presenting our most intimate parts to the other. The same treatment was then given to those regions, with excruciating effect. Neither ceded, but merely sought to create pain for the other.

With hindsight I suppose I should be grateful that we did not carry the attack inside our private parts, but limited ourselves to what was available on the exterior.

I know that I was crying with pain and frustration that Constance had not sought to end our struggle and submit to my indulgence. I am reasonably sure that she was crying too. Realisation came that I was not about to succeed this way and I changed tactics.

I’m not proud to say that my intention was that, if I could not make her plead with me to stop due to pain, I would make her plead due to sexual dominance. Ceasing to tear at her sex lips, I plunged my fingers into her and pulled them in and out as hard and as fast as I could.

Constance has always had a stubborn streak and all she did was to copy me, and presumably with greater efficacy. While she forced my body to react to the stimulus between my legs, she also used her other hand to torture my breasts, using her mouth or teeth periodically as well. There was pain in my chest and a strong sensation between my legs which began to dominate my senses. I am sure that I tried to fight back, and I believe that I forced Constance to the point of no return but, if I did, she made light of it and continued driving me to sexual heights, coupled with pain in my breasts.

Pleasure and pain make a powerful pairing. So powerful that it overwhelmed me and eventually I was but a sobbing mass on the floor, shaking uncontrollably and tears pouring from my eyes.

Constance took me in her arms, my head against her breast and she comforted me as if I had just suffered some great loss, with no evidence that I had just spent many minutes trying to reduce her to some similar state. Shame replaced my feelings of frustration, of that I am sure. But my Constance rocked me on her lap, stroking my hair and whispering sweet nothings.

I have nothing to gain by recounting this incident, but my respect for this girl who had been charged with supervising me and who had so successfully found how to combine this job with increasing my own well being, grew to even greater depths as its result.

My body was extremely sore for many days and I wore a wig to hide the patches of hair which Constance had ripped out. She in turn cut her hair shorter for similar reasons. I could have thought that she suffered no pain despite the mauling which I surely gave her had it not been about a week later when I saw her wincing while carrying out some physical duty.

“Constance” I said, “have you hurt yourself.”

“No, my lady” she replied, “I think it was rather that yourself hurt me.”

I was chastened, but so glad with the judicious choice of my father in choosing this surprising lady to ensure that my behaviour met with his approval.