by LSF Publications
by Art Zeeton
The two women sat quietly in the parlor working at their needlepoint. The only sound was the dull cadence of the German case clock and the crackle and sputter of the fire in the hearth. Sometimes the wind beyond the closed draperies moaned as it whipped about the heavy wet flakes.
"You haven't mentioned any gentlemen, Aggie," Elizabeth finally said, not looking up from her round.
"There are none to mention, Aunt Elizabeth."
"Pity. You are the loveliest of my nieces and should have your pick of the lot, yet here you are approaching your twenty-second year with no prospects. A true pity."
"You sound like Mother, Auntie."
"I shan't nag. It seems such a waste, however."
Aggie set her needlework in her lap.
"Auntie, you never married and yet seem perfectly content, it seems rather..."
"Hypocritical? Hypocritical that I should lecture you? You are correct, of course, Aggie. I shall desist."
"Mother said you were the prettiest of the girls, yet you never married."
"Perhaps I once was comely, but now I am a withered old crone. Take care lest you become like me, dear."
Aggie laughed.
"Crone, indeed! Why you are hardly more than forty and many a younger lady would count herself fortunate to be so withered!"
It was true. Elizabeth Willoughby was a small woman, but maintained exquisitely carved and delicate features, eyes the color of sea fog, and porcelain skin. Some had noted the resemblance between aunt and niece, although Aggie Spence was taller and fuller of form and had taken from her father hair the lightness of straw. The women continued their needlework in silence for several minutes.
"Why did you not marry, Auntie?" Aggie asked. "You certainly must have had your own suitors."
The older woman shrugged.
"I did. Some were quite suitable. However, I could never bring myself to select. Perhaps I thought myself unsuitable for them."
Aggie laughed again.
"Hardly likely, Auntie. Have you not missed the companionship of a mate? The joy of children?"
"I was present when two of my nieces and one nephew came into the world. I wouldn't say my sisters found the experiences joyful. As for companionship, I do have my friends, Aggie."
"Yes, but..."
"But what, dear?"
"Well, I was reading in a journal that women, like men, have certain - needs - that are met in the conjugal union."
Elizabeth spat a short laugh and shook her head.
"They do publish just anything these days. I suppose it will be the way of the new century. Motorcars, machines that fly. I have heard they are developing a device that will allow the transmission of sound without even having a gramophone. Well, I have not missed anything in the absence of a 'conjugal union', niece."
"I shouldn't have mentioned it, Auntie. It's just that I, too, have no desire for a husband at the moment, yet..."
"Yet what, dear?"
"Yet I wonder how you have withstood the temptations of the... flesh... for these many years."
Elizabeth considered her niece's words for a moment, then set her needlepoint on a side table and rose.
"I would like a sherry. Would you like a sherry, Aggie?"
"Thank you, no."
Elizabeth walked to the hearth and tugged the velvet pull at its side. A moment later, Anthony entered the parlor.
"Mum?"
"I would like a sherry. Aggie declines."
"Yes, mum."
The servant departed.
"May I speak frankly, niece?" Elizabeth said.
"Certainly."
"Despite what you might read in your journals, it would be incorrect to presume that all women have the same needs of the flesh, as you put it."
Aggie's eyes grew wide.
"Of course not, Auntie. I did not mean to imply - oh, I shouldn't have brought up the..."
Elizabeth held up a small hand to silence her niece.
"It is quite all right. Your question is reasonable. Because you seem determined to set upon a course of solitary existence, I shall endeavor to answer it as best I can."
Anthony entered the parlor carrying a tray and glass. He set it upon the table and turned to Aggie.
"Nothing, mum?"
"Thank you, no."
Elizabeth watched him take his leave then resumed her chair.
"A remarkable find, Anthony. Wouldn't you agree, Aggie?"
"Anthony? He seems quite efficient and his manners are impeccable."
"Yes, there is that, but I was referring to the man himself. Quite tall and erect. His mother was an islander, you know, thus the dusky hue of the skin, the darkness of eye and the peculiar lilt of voice. I do not find his lack of hair a deficit. Do you notice how the light glimmers upon the pate?"
"I had noticed, of course..."
Aggie stopped in mid-sentence.
"Auntie! Do you..."
Again the small woman held up a hand.
"It is not at all what you think, dear. Do not hasten to incorrect assumptions."
"Sorry, Auntie. That was presumptuous - and rude."
"Quite all right, dear. I said earlier I did not consider myself suitable for marriage. Do you recall?"
"I do."
"The very... needs of the flesh... to which you refer are the reason I would not consider myself an acceptable mate and why I mention Anthony."
"I do not understand, Auntie."
Elizabeth sipped more of her sherry.
"Men and women embark upon marriage with the hopes of having a loving, tender, and lasting union - or so we are taught. Of course, there is the need to procreate."
Elizabeth smiled.
"With seven nieces and four nephews I hardly feel compelled to the latter. The continuation of the hereditary line seems assured. As for the former - the loving and tender union - it never held great appeal for me."
Elizabeth sipped the sherry again, draining the glass's contents.
"I much prefer the sting of the whip to the loving caress."
Aggie blinked at her aunt, then laughed.
"Auntie, you jest at my expense!"
"Not at all, niece. Surely you are not so protected that you have not heard of those who find their fulfillment in such manner."
"I have heard salacious tales, Auntie, but..."
"But you believe them to be fiction and certainly could not entertain the notion your own aunt could engage in the behavior you term 'salacious'."
"Certainly not, Auntie. Surely you tease."
"I do not, niece. You inquired as to how I sustain a solitary existence and I have answered you."
Elizabeth looked at her empty glass, then rose.
"I would like another sherry. Would you, dear?"
"I believe I would," Aggie replied.
Anthony brought a tray bearing two glasses, and Elizabeth waited to speak until he departed.
"Would that I could find satisfaction in the way in which most women do. I learned when I reached your age that would not be possible because of my - proclivity. As time has passed, I came to believe that is for the better. No husband under foot. No catering to the - what is it that little German, Freud, calls it - the masculine ego?"
She smiled.
"I have become quite content to have my home, my friends, my charities, and when the need presents itself - the sting of the lash upon my posterior."
"Oh, Auntie, I had no idea!"
"Of course not. Why, the very mention of it brings a flush to your pretty face. You would have no cause to know. It is a matter in which a lady must be quite discreet. I was fortunate to find Anthony. Coming as he does from the islands, he is unfettered by the stuffy notion of propriety. Applying the crop to his mistress's bottom is to him simply one of his tasks. I have seen signs that it may be something more, but he has the good manners not to mention it."
"And no one else knows of this... activity?"
"No. Only the servant girl, Sadie. She is quite guileless and naive and somewhat a dull girl."
Aggie drew upon her sherry and sat back in her chair.
"This is extraordinary, Auntie."
"Do you find it alarming? Revolting?"
"Certainly alarming. Revolting is perhaps too strong a word."
"What, then, niece? Disturbing? Discomfiting?"
"Yes. Those are more accurate descriptions."
"Perhaps 'titillating' also?"
"Oh, Auntie! Now you do make light."
"I do not. Is 'titillating' a term that might aptly describe your thoughts upon hearing of my predilection?"
Color rose on Aggie's face.
"Forgive me, dear. It is I who has become presumptuous. It seems, though, that certain notions might be alarming and disturbing but also 'titillating'. I wonder what Mr. Freud might have to say about that. But come, we must put all this aside and return to our needlework before the sherry renders our fingers incapable."
The women returned to their tasks as the case clock ticked away the minutes of the night and the winter wind mourned in the street.
"Auntie?"
"Yes, Aggie."
"Perhaps you are correct. Perhaps 'titillating' does apply to that of which you spoke. I cannot fathom why."
"I have given it considerable thought, dear, but have never come to a satisfactory answer other than to believe it is what it is. Some women - and men, no doubt - achieve arousal at the notion of having their bottoms mistreated."
"I suppose it is not mistreatment if one finds it desirable."
Elizabeth cast a curious glance at her niece.
"An odd observation from a young lady whose only knowledge comes from the whisperings of 'salacious tales'. Or perhaps you find the topic 'titillating'."
"You have gone beyond presumptuousness, Auntie."
"Yes. No doubt I have. Besides, you would not confess to such even if it were so."
"Do you accuse me of being disingenuous, Auntie? I do not prevaricate."
"I could not fault you if you did, though I find it curious you would resurrect this topic once I had set it aside. I must believe you find it... evocative... in some way."
Aggie shrugged and worked her needles briskly.
"Just a curiosity, Auntie, nothing more," she said.
"Ah, then we shall dispense with the subject again. I shall have another glass of sherry before retiring. You, dear?"
"Thank you, no."
Elizabeth rose and again tugged the pull. Anthony arrived within a moment.
"Mum?"
"I shall require another sherry before retiring."
"Yes, mum. I will have Sadie make your bed ready."
The servant turned.
"And Anthony?"
"Mum?"
"The evening's conversation has put me in such a state that I will require the riding crop tonight. Say, nine o'clock?"
Anthony cast a quick looked toward Aggie.
"Very well, mum."
"I shall have it done in my bedchamber, lest it offend my niece's sensitivities."
"Yes, mum."
"Auntie! You do this to mock my sense of propriety!" Aggie said when the servant was gone.
"Not at all, dear. I do this because our discussion has aroused the need within. We shall be as quiet about it as possible so as not to disturb you."
"This is quite improper, Auntie."
"It may be, yet you have not fled the room or the premises, which one might expect from someone who felt the impropriety beyond her tolerance."
Aggie did not look up as Anthony brought a tray with a single sherry. The women worked at their rounds without speaking. The clock uttered a single mournful chime at the arrival of eight thirty o'clock.
"The minutes fly, niece. Even now I feel a-flutter in anticipation of what is to come."
Aggie did not reply, instead working her needles feverishly.
"I fear if you continue with such exuberance you will surely make a spark and burn the house down, Aggie, and you look to the clock more often than I. One might suspect that it is you destined to receive the crop."
Aggie threw her needlepoint down.
"Do you take pleasure in tormenting me, Auntie?"
"Quite the contrary, dear. It is I who am desirous of the torment, though I do find your own discomfort somewhat... charming."
"I shall retire to my room, Auntie, so that you and Anthony may have the parlor for your... activities."
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