For a few days, Myriam lived as in a dream. With Ghislaine's help she managed to see Jerome every day. She knew delightful instants with him. Receiving his caresses she refused herself yet, her desire, her love for Jerome and her fears to lose him growing stronger every day. She had promised him she would soon be his, and hoped to get free from Kozincko, and, why not? to marry Jerome… That was the reason why she hadn't yielded yet. Jerome of course was too impatient to wait, even her vows she would belong to nobody but him, sounded too futile to satisfy him long. He had appointed himself a day before which he should get that girl, and had it not been for a diabolical scheme that hatching in his mind, he would have made an end of it earlier… Yet he had often heard of Ghislaine. And through Myriam he hoped to get at her… Jerome loved dearly that sort of intrigue. It was his sole raison d'etre. And he would have given much to tackle both girls at once.
At night Myriam would tell her friend what had happened and the games begun on that theme would last until the small hours of the morning. Ghislaine was a passionate lover. Shy and rather awkward at first, she had grown exceedingly skilful, and Myriam wondered what her father would think if he knew… Kozincko hadn't breathed a word but he had been busy. He had gone back to the Chateau Vert and had a chat with Mrs. Cornavin. Both agreed the present situation couldn't last and planned out a few things accordingly. When Kozincko came back in Paris, he was satisfied Myriam would soon be his, and not in halves this time.
— One morning, as she had just left Jerome, Myriam got a wire from her cousins, bidding her come to the Chateau Vert, her aunt being very ill Myriam never thought this sudden illness might be a fraud, a snare. Ghislaine's father had said on the previous day he was going to England that week-end. Myriam didn't like her aunt much, yet she couldn't refuse to go at such juncture, besides Ghislaine insisted that she should go.
Myriam didn't notice Ghislaine's excited look. As a matter of fact Ghislaine knew her father would be at the Chateau Vert. He had told her this, adding there would be a surprise for Myriam…
Ghislaine was happy to take part in the confection of the surprise, and did her utmost to send Myriam down to the manor house.
Myriam sent Jerome a wire, she would see him three days later…; then she caught the first train.
— Since Mrs Cornavin had moved into the Chateau Vert everything had changed on the estate. Mrs Cornavin was quite determined to win the owner's sympathies. She had engaged a feminine staff which she had carefully selected, and when Kozincko arrived he was very much astonished to be greeted as a bashaw in his harem. Glad to see his secret desires thus flattered he gave Mrs. Cornavin the high hand on the house. The old hag asked for no more.
On the day before Myriam's arrival he sent for her and said:
«You know I'll have some friends here to night. They'll probably come with their women, but I would like to present them with something fresh, rustic, some kind of wild game, if you like..?
«I think I've got what you want. Two or three country lasses… I think it will do admirably…
«By the way, how do you propose to manage Myriam?
«Very easily done… She'll be locked up as soon as she gets here. A sound thrashing which you'll witness, then I'll dose her in to a receptive frame of mind… When you'll care to slip it in, she'll be extremely grateful to you…»
Kozincko eyed for a few seconds that old severe looking person, and reflected he had long thought her a puritan bore… vices assume sometimes strange aspects.
«Fine! I give you a free hand..!»
And his one thought was to anticipate as best he could Myriam's possession.
— When she arrived, Myriam was greeted by her cousins, Katy and Helen.
«What happened? asked Myriam.
«Mamie wants to see you now, answered, Katy who could hardly refrain from giggling at this piece of mischief.»
Both girls were jealous and eager to play a good joke upon their lucky cousin.
«She is in Ghislaine's former room, said Helen, I'll take you there. Myriam followed. She thought the girls hurried because of their grief.»
She crossed the huge halls of the old manor, to reach the wing that had been formerly used by Ghislaine's house hold. She felt rather lost at the thought her friend wouldn't be there; she would have to lie alone in a vast cold bed. She had grown used, of late, to Ghislaine's love and though imperfect their games had been ardent and tender.
The twins as they were leading Myriam on couldn't help casting admiring looks on her dress. Where was the poor country girl they had known and mocked and bossed one month ago. They longed to know what her life was in Paris, but, they had been trusted with a mission and they had to accomplish it.
Myriam had hardly stepped into Ghislaine's room when the door was locked from outside. She heard her cousins laughing as they ran away. What did it all mean? The room was empty… Where was her aunt?
It took her a few minutes to understand she had been imposed upon, yet she never thought of Kozincko. She thought her aunt fearing she might not obey a mere order had found that way to get her back. But, then, Kozincko must have told her something… about her resistance?.. May be he had written the old shrew to take her back..?
Myriam was lost in these thoughts, how could her aunt imagine such trick? Why hadn't she been told what was the matter, why had she been locked up as a thief? Myriam felt desperate for some time. At least everything would be made clear to her soon enough she hoped. Her aunt would box her pretty ears and that'd the end of it. She'd manage to get back to Paris with Ghislaine's help and she'd see Jerome. That would settle everything.
With a youthful carelessness, Myriam was building up her future life. It was much better to get a sound flogging at her aunt's hands — after all she felt a trifle too old to get flogged — than to go the whole hog with that old ape, even if he tried to do it kindly.
Myriam went round the room. It was just the same. Ghislaine's white bed was still there with its white bear furs. It seemed the girl had never left it. Fresh flowers in a bowl… Myriam went to the window. She was on a second floor looking out on the woods, there was no way out. How long were they to keep her here?
She suddenly remembered her cousins and whispered:
«I'll pay them back in their own coin!»
Then little by little she realized it might be a carefully planned scheme, that her aunt was obeying Kozincko's orders, that Ghislaine knew too… and she grew afraid.
«No! that can't be! They couldn't be all of them leagued against me..! As she murmured these words, a key turned into the door which opened slowly and let in Mrs. Cornavin. Myriam stood gazing at her aunt's vicious bland face, at her eyes, cold with pent up hatred.
«Well, I can see you've followed my advice? Are you proud of what you've done..? We're going to be thrown out of doors because Miss ass is too good for Monsieur Nicolas… What do you say to this..? Nothing! Monsieur Nicolas let me know everything. I thought you'd understand what he wanted. You're a silly goose and I wonder how he ever could take any interest in your foolish little and. Are you going to tell me why..?»
Myriam felt the weight faults she hadn't committed yet. She tried to explain:
«But my aunt I did as you told me, I let him and at the last…
«Shut up, bawled out her worthy aunt, who knew Kozincko was following this interview through an ingenious contrivance in the ceiling. You're a fool!»
Once more Myriam tried to protest. Her aunt stepped forward and slapped her face masterfully.
«Here you're, for a beginning!»
Myriam fell on Ghislaine's bed and sobbed aloud.
«You can cry, you conceited fool, you goose!»
She drew a cur birch from under her vast skirt and nourished it above Myriam.
«A good thrashing is what you need! That'll teach you!»
She tucked up her sleeves, caught Myriam by the heels turned her over as a pancake, tore off her skirt and blouse, leaving nothing on but her stockings. Myriam didn't struggle. She was sobbing miserably on the injustice of the whole thing.
«Cry! Cry! you silly cunt! sneered the aunt.»
She brought her cane down with a vengeance on Myriam's poor little buttocks that recoiled under the blows.
«No! No! cried Myriam, what did I..?
«You'd better ask what you didn't..!»
Above Ghislaine's room was a kind of attic carefully locked in other times, which the former owner had fad fitted with a sort of magnifying pane that allowed him to see everything that passed in the room below. Thanks to this clever contrivance, which Nicolas knew though he hadn't used it before, he was watching the proceedings below with blood shot eyes and drumming pulse… Never had he wanted that girl so much. Never had he seen her so beautiful. She was simply maddening. His prick felt murderously stiff. He wished he had been down there with the old shrew. He'd flogged her within an inch of her life and lunged in afterwards. He'd have had her wailing with pain before giving her infernal fucking fiesta. His prick twitched with excitement at each thump of the birch on that lovely distracted body. Love to him was closely connected with suffering. A bitter volupty was overwhelming his senses. His eyes riveted to the pane, he longed to bawl out; flay her! thrash her! yet at the same time he self some sort of sneaking pity for the girl.
Mrs. Cornavin was still belaboring vigorously her victim. Myriam cried and ran blindly about the room, pursued by that fiend. She stumbled, fell on her back, kicked about exposing her cunt in her struggles to get up. Her aunt wielded the birch ruthlessly but skillfully, she aimed at the breasts that hardened and stood out more pertly under the blows, at the thighs, and more particularly at the buttocks, she well knew where the effect would be stronger…
Myriam was totally helpless under the blows. Her whole flesh burnt, and at the same time she felt a mad pleasure. Her cries now were almost wails of pleasure. Her eyes were two dark slits in her ecstatic face. Her lips were taut in a sort of smile. Her body thrilled under the birch and she fell in an all pervading volupty. She no longer squirmed or wriggled. She lay on Ghislaine's bed, legs thrown wide apart, her little cunt offered up to the blows, her quivering breasts standing out in a perverted holocaust to that new pleasure.
Nicolas was clutching at the floor, kneeling, his eyes riveted on that hungry piece of cunt; Mrs. Cornavin once or twice made a vicious lash at the wet crotch, and, as the birch drew upwards as it were, Myriam raised herself to follow, to take in the divine, disappointing pain.
Kozincko was on the rack, he was tortured with a demented desire to fuck that girl to death and as long as the flagellation lasted he stayed there panting, in the agony of his cravings.
— After that flogging, given much more to please Kozincko's taste than to punish real fault, Mrs. Cornavin thought Myriam would quickly reconsider her conduct on a new basis… As a matter of fact she thought the girl had been quite right to let him starve till then, a fact that allowed Mrs. Cornavin to make herself useful now… By thrashing Myriam she intended to please her employer to, win his gratefulness and profit by it. She thought that by now Myriam would be reconciled with the necessities of her position which after all was not utterly without advantages…
Yet Mrs. Cornavin was wrong.
Myriam was stubbornly determined to do exactly the contrary of what she was expected to do. She had decided to rebel against everything and everybody in the place, she brooded on dark schemes of revenge. She spent her whole night planning out every conceivable mischief, wondering too what her aunt was driving at…
She found out that soon enough.
Mrs. Cornavin came back in the morning with a huge flat box in her arms. She opened it with loving care and drew out a dazzling evening dress, yards of white organdie, gold clasps at the shoulders and a slim belt to match. A dress out of a fairy tale! Myriam couldn't help smiling at this marvel.
«A fine present is it not..? smirked the aunt as she caught Myriam's smile.
«A present? wondered the girl.
«Yes. You're invited to a party to-night.
«Oh, am I..?
«Yes, a wonderful party will be given at the Chateau Vert to night.»
Myriam understood everything. Her aunt's thrashing, the present, Ghislaine's trick, her cousins', the whole scheme that had been put up against her. And her aunt was the head of the conspiracy. She understood why she had been sent down here, locked up, abused and flogged. She was to understand any further resistance to Kozincko's brutish cravings was useless, she was to yield to the master's whims…
«I suppose it is that dear Monsieur Nicolas of yours who's been generous enough to invite me?
«Yes, and you're going to accept…
«Shall I accept to be forced by that old fogey?
«Don't try to be witty. You'll do what I tell you.
«What if I do not?
«You'll do it! cut her aunt. It would cost you a damned lot if you didn't. I'll leave you with your dress, you have the whole day to think it out. When you are decided, you'll ring, then you'll get everything you need to repair your energies…
«Which means I'll badly need them afterwards..?»
Her aunt went out without answering, locking the door as usual.
Myriam was much mortified at having been thus imposed upon. She could well expect it from her aunt, from the little bitches her cousins, but from Ghislaine! from her one friend! Ghislaine knew her father was at the Chateau Vert, she had hidden that from her, but did she know too what his intentions were, did she know what was the purpose of the snare?
Then Myriam thought of Jerome and resolved once more she would never yield to Kozincko. The day dragged on, then she thought, may be, she could go to the party, she would manage to escape him… The dress was so beautiful… she was hungry, thirsty, she rang the bell…