Seduction & Carnality
A biography of Chloe ThurlowPart II
by Elizabeth Woodham
Chloe’s education began at an early age at the Kent convent where the nuns instructed all subjects and excelled in carnality.
During term-time, Chloe practised her skills in seduction on the wimpled ladies and, during the holidays, she tried her newly awakened self on the various men her mother employed in the house and grounds of their Kent home. How far these teen intrigues went it is hard to say, although in The Secret Life of Girls I can picture her in the woodshed with the gardener spraying her nightdress with the water jet used for the plants, her nipples growing hard through the wet fabric, Mother appearing ‘like the monster in my nightmares,’ as she would later write.
Further, by outrageous flirtation, she practised her arts on her uncles. Her father was often away ‘lying for England,’ as Chloe termed his profession in the Foreign Office. Left to her own devices, while Mother carried out various charitable works, Chloe wielded her sexual power with the men and boys drawn into her charisma like bees to the moist interior of the tuberose.
But her real education started when she went up to Cambridge. I knew immediately she came down to London during the first holiday of her second full term that she’d been plucked by an expert, laid bare and ripened for sin. I knew that the dusky dark rooms in Rose Crescent, which provided a waitresses income to supplement her student loan, was not the only place where she got her friendly fix.
Chloe developed a passion for Auden, a love affair which continues to this day. Sparked by her tutor, who also introduced her to Bataille, Sartre, Camus and erotica, she began to grow and become, develop and change, grow wings and write.
‘You should see his desk, Lizzie, it’s piled high with papers and books, and you’d hardly know where anything is, but it’s so huge that there’s a massive shiny uncluttered space right in the middle, which seems to be the perfect height for his favourite thing.’
‘What is his favourite thing?’ I think I knew the answer.
Chloe’s intense passion for all things literature, including the tutors, was the driving force behind her achieving a first and was instrumental in honing her sexual power. She approached and devoured her studies with the same voracious appetite as she consumed the men and women who thought they were her seducers, when in fact, not a single one of them really had consummate power.
‘He loves to spank me. I adore the sound of his belt as he pulls it from the loops ready to thrash me with it. The old walls of the college are thick, it’s a medieval building, which is just as well, although one time, he had to gag me with my panties. I love it, Lizzie, I really do.’
I understood completely. I’m an anal queen myself and love the glow of beaten cheeks prior to being buggered.
‘He titillates me with his eloquence and makes everything sound so rude. Every word, every line of every poem he reads to me sounds erotic and juicy. Soon my own juices are flowing and before he’s even told me how crap my essays are, even when they are better than usual, I’m ready for punishment.’
‘I imagine you give him crap pieces deliberately?’
‘Oh, God, I hate it that you know me so well.’ She pauses, glances over one shoulder, brushes a loose strand of hair from her eyes. ‘He loves the strap. I adore the sound it makes as it slices the air almost as much as I like the noise of the leather contacting my flesh. The exquisite sting when in connects. Well, you know what it’s like, Lizzie, God knows you’ve been thrashed enough times.’
‘Ah, yes, my unsuitable affair.’
I was in the sixth month of an affair with a married lover. I adore married lovers. They demand nothing except sex, provide gifts, money and my wishes. They are always in a good mood and I don’t have to do boring domestic activities. Divine.
There are few things better than an affair with a well off, uncomplicated, scared-of-being-caught, married man. The man introduced me to his fetish in the same hour that he took my heterosexual virginity. I’d lost my cherry years before having sex with girls, but he was my first male penetration. Nevertheless, the taste of girls is addictive. Chloe and I love that indefinable flavour, that syrupy elixir, and each other. Didn’t she write in A Girl’s Adventure – ‘there’s nothing like the taste of girls?’ Of course she did. She’s an expert.
Having been introduced to the intoxication of being soundly spanked by a man who has power over a girl’s destiny, Chloe embraced her role as protégé. She soon had her Don doing her bidding, while they each pretended that he had the upper-hand, although knowing that it was she who held ultimate power – the human trick of self-deception she knows so well.
During that period, Chloe wore the expression of a girl who had just been fucked, whether she had or not. A natural academic, she thrived during her time at Cambridge. ‘My petals open there, Lizzie,’ she said and bought a bike, parking it 5 or 6 deep against the railings along with the occasional rusty prisoner which had never been reclaimed and hung on is padlock never to be ridden again.
Chloe never mastered the art of punting. It hardly mattered since there was no shortage of men who wanted to work the oar while Chloe reclined like an Egyptian Queen and trailed her hand in the water in an emulation of an iconic image.
Between terms, Cambridge slumbers in some ways, students replaced by tourists, even though its busy all-year-round, a carousel of academic elitism. The nine to fivers who live there twenty-four seven are different, set apart and strangely more buoyant when the students leave. Chloe rarely elected to stay in Cambridge outside term time, her rooms usually let to summer school students and other visitors, and after her second term she got a room in a shared house.
I nursed a secret hope that she’d audition for the University Challenge team and bought her a copy of Starter for Ten.
‘No, Lizzie, I can’t be bothered,’ she said, although she read the book and liked it.
I conducted my affair with my married spanker in unison with Chloe’s liaison with the spanking professor so we learned discipline at the hands of much older men, simultaneously in different cities.
Literature was a close second to our sexual activities for discussion and we loved combining the two by devouring as much Anais Nin and the Marquis de Sade as we could manage along with the set books. The time to read is when you are young, when you absorb everything, when books come to life in your hands like lovers.
The rebellious tattoo she had inked on the nape of her neck took ages to heal. I never succumbed to a tattoo and was quietly sorry that Chloe went ahead without me. I was worried that it would get infected; it took so long to settle.
It’s now a pretty reminder of her daring and my hesitance and is as much Chloe as is Chloe herself.
Copyright Elizabeth Woodham, 2014
Part III Ripened For Sin appears tomorrow, 24 September
If you missed Part 1 JUST CLICK
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Cheers,
D