I’m exhausted. I barely have enough strength to write this but I have to because I know that you will help, dear darling diary, to sort out the whirlwind of emotions swirling around in my head. Thank you for being there for me.
Two days ago I was sitting quite happily in the little garden area just off the path, dreaming to myself, enjoying the quiet and the sweet evening air when Sir Hugo walked straight up to me and started telling me off! He insisted that I should be in the house, asking all the men if they had everything they needed and that I shouldn’t be out here all by myself. I tried to explain to him that I had walked around previously and no one had needed me and that I wasn’t required to be in the house all the time but he told me to follow him there. Of course I wasn’t happy about it but I’m a little – okay, actually quite a lot – scared of him and so I went with him without trying to argue my way out of it.
Before leading me there, however, he tried to teach me something. Does he think I’m a dog? He snapped his fingers at me and stood, waiting. I had no idea, of course, what he was expecting me to do and luckily he wasn’t angry that I didn’t know, although he did explain that he expected me to remember what he was going to teach me and to never forget it when he’s around. He went on to explain that one snap means I am to take off my top, and two snaps means I must remove the bottoms. Can you imagine? He can’t even be bothered to order me around with words; he expects me to jump to obey when he snaps his fingers at me! I knew I’d remember because I didn’t like to think what he’d do to me if I didn’t obey but you can imagine how unhappy I am about it and the sort of mood it put me in.
Once in the house Sir Hugo pointed out several men and told me to go and ask them if they needed anything. I did so and each time I was told that nothing was required. Just as I had told Sir Hugo – no one needed me at the moment. But instead of saying that I was right or apologizing for unfairly criticizing me he told me to follow him upstairs. I did so, very slowly, and my heart started to thump louder and louder in my chest as we neared the landing and he began to turn right. He waited, watching me, enjoying my fear and then, laughing he turned left and walked into the bedroom. What a bastard! I know I don’t usually use such awful language but he is really awful and doesn’t deserve any kind words.
Once in the bedroom he walked to the bed and told me to follow him. I climbed on with him and waited. I had no idea, of course, what he was planning on doing and I was scared but also annoyed at him for trying to frighten me on purpose and for laughing at me. But I managed to control my emotions and let him do what he wanted.
If only he hadn’t started to insult me again I would have been fine. But he mistook my obedience for pleasure and started to tell me how he was being so kind and generous to me and how I loved his gentle touches and how I should be grateful that he was touching me. Can you believe it? I couldn’t take it any more and blew up again. I know, I know, it’s so stupid of me and I have to learn how to stop doing that but what was I supposed to do, agree with him? Thank him for doing all the gross and disgusting things he was going to do to me? I just couldn’t, and so I screamed at him and of course he was furious. Then he started snapping his fingers at me and expecting me to suddenly take my clothes off! I definitely wasn’t going to every him now and instead I bolted for the door, hoping to run away from him, but it was locked. Oh, I was sick with fear then. I don’t know why or how the door was locked because it never has been before but I could not get the handle to turn and the next thing I knew Sir Hugo was dragging me over to the cross and despite struggling as hard as I could he quickly tied me up tightly and painfully.
I remember feeling so ill then, so scared and so helpless but I was still angry with him! I hate him and even though I was sure he was going to hurt me very, very badly I preferred that to having his hands all over my body. I know it makes no sense but let me try to explain. When a man hits me, beats me or whips me the pain is awful, intense and terrible but it doesn’t last much longer than the ordeal. It is only skin deep and as soon as the wounds have healed the pain goes too. It makes me scared to see that man again and it makes me hate him and fear him but it’s only my body that tries to run away from him. My mind isn’t there; my emotions are uninvolved. But when a man touches me it is so much deeper, so much more profound and although he may only be touching my body it’s almost as though he can get into every part of me: my mind, my heart, my soul… everything. My whole being gets tangled up in what is happening and even if I try and switch off and not feel any emotion I can never manage to do so. That stays forever. A small part of every touch, every caress, every kiss will always be in me and that is … powerfully intense.
Of course I was still dreading what came next. Even though I would gladly endure whatever physical torture Sir Hugo could inflict upon me if it meant not having to be with him I was still terrified of the pain that I thought would be coming.
But, he left! I don’t know whether he planned it and decided that my punishment would be to be left strung up like that all night or whether he suddenly couldn’t be bothered or what happened, but he just went. Without a word. At first I waited thinking that he would return with whips, or other men, or something equally nightmarish. But the longer I waited the more I realized that he wasn’t coming back and, as uncomfortable as I was like that, I eventually fell asleep.
The next part of my story is so weird and crazy but it will have to wait because I hear voices and I don’t recognize them but I don’t want to take any chances. I will hide you, my dearest friend, and return later when I am sure I will have more time. Then I will tell you what happened next!