An Edwardian weekend

A country house in the Home Counties. The Edwardian era. Saturday night. Dinner is served; after-dinner drinks duly enjoyed. The gentlemen and ladies mingle.

The staff are dismissed.

And then anything goes: the true purpose of the gathering revealed, enjoyed with relish, as clothes and inhibitions are shed and the frolics begin.

Only: as one guest leaves momentarily to fetch more port, a maid is apprehended peering through the keyhole. Led into the room: “Look what I found.”

“Well if she’s that interested, we’d better make good use of her.” The master of the house, stripping her, pushing her roughly, face-first over the arm of a chaise longue. Being passed a riding crop; beckoning to one of the young women present. “Hold her hands tight.”

Punishing her, hard. Making her sob, beg for forgiveness, for mercy.

Then using her, as she struggled and as the others in the company observed. “Gentlemen,” he’d say: “Feel free to take your turns. Or, indeed, ladies: you might want to join in too, for that matter.”