The Whipping Maid of House Calley - Chapter 37

While Sheila lay sprawled across the table, panting, he put clothes back onto his sculpted, well-built body.

If you go abroad to study, do you learn how to dress properly too?

Even the way Cedric dressed himself was disciplined and elegant. Sheila, barely keeping her eyes open as she stared blankly at him, felt her mind growing more and more confused.

She couldn’t tell whether the memory of the Young Count pressing his body against hers and moving like a beast was a dream, or whether the reality of her lying naked on top of a table before the perfectly composed young master was the dream.

Seeing Cedric looking so entirely different from before, one of the two had to be unreal.

But when he soaked a towel at the washbasin with a splash and began wiping away the traces he’d left on her body, her sense of reality slowly returned.

Considering how much he’d spilled, he’d soaked three generous hand towels. After tossing aside the towel he’d used on her torso, he grabbed a fresh one and reached beneath her. He meant to wipe her sex.

But at that moment, Sheila snapped her legs shut so tightly that his hand got caught between them. Sheila herself was startled, but she didn’t relax.

Cedric gave her an incredulous look, as if asking what she thought she was doing.

“Spread them.”

Sheila shook her head as she whimpered, “If I spread them, y-you’ll wipe… down there….”

“What do you think will happen if you don’t?”

His tone as he questioned her was chilling. In this sealed room, no one would ever know if a maid ended up dead. Sheila’s face, flushed from heat, went pale.

She hadn’t forgotten the warning he’d given her during intercourse when he ordered her to make noise.

“Don’t take lightly anything said in this room, Sheila. Unless you want to find out what happens when you disobey.”

“I-I’ll… I’ll do it myself….”

She had no intention of refusing his order, but she still tried offering a last-second deal, just in case. His hand was still caught between her thighs.

“Stop talking and spread them.”

That offer was shut down without mercy.

With both hands covering her face, Sheila slowly parted her legs. Her hesitant, squirming movements showed how much she struggled with it.

Cedric, out of patience, grabbed both her knees and forced them apart.

“Aaah!”

Startled, Sheila screamed and covered her face even harder. It was her own way of stopping herself from resisting him again. Then, while Cedric wiped her lower parts, she clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t flinch or make strange sounds.

After finishing his task, Cedric looked down at her and commanded, “Get up.”

He’d wiped her below, so now it was time to clean the buttocks where he’d spilled the first time.

Sheila slowly pushed herself up. Then she looked at the wall clock. She’d checked the time when they entered the room, and exactly two hours had passed.

Sheila was certain.

Cedric wasn’t just a pervert. He was the worst kind of pervert.

Not only had he finished exactly on time, he’d struck her buttocks, thighs, and breasts exactly nine times during intercourse.

She’d gone through countless things as a maid attending to a noble lady, but Cedric was clearly more formidable than Judith.

As Sheila set her feet down from the table, her legs gave out and she staggered. But before she hit the floor, he caught her in his arms.

“S-sorry….”

Sheila apologized to him as he looked down at her with a frown between his brows. Like a fly in the ointment, she felt that her shabby state had become a blemish on his perfect appearance.

“Enough. Put your clothes on.”

After catching her and wiping the traces on her back at the same time, Cedric tossed the towel aside as he spoke.

Sheila quickly stepped out of his arms and picked up the clothes she’d taken off earlier, which lay crumpled on the floor like melted wax. Her body, exhausted in a way completely different from being beaten, trembled all over, but Sheila endured it.

“Go to your room and wait. I’ll be there soon.”

At Cedric’s words, Sheila hesitated. He must’ve meant he’d come to apply ointment, but she couldn’t tell whether he meant her buttocks or the place she’d used for the first time today.

But whether it was one or the other, Sheila had no right to refuse.

Sheila, too drained to say anything, simply nodded.

It was better this way. Since he was coming anyway, she should ask him to confirm the contract. She’d definitely read through the whole thing last time, but she’d never seen anything about paying double.

“Can you walk on your own?”

“Yes, of course!”

Naturally, she could walk. Her whole body felt like it had been beaten, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. Even the senior maids had never said they couldn’t walk after their first night.

More than that, she was terrified that if she said “it’s hard to walk,” Cedric would do something strange again.

In a rare gesture, Cedric held the door open so she could leave the room.

Once she stepped through Cedric’s room and out into the hallway alone, Sheila leaned against the wall and let out a breath.

Then she began walking. She wanted nothing more than to get back to her room and rest.

At this hour, the third floor was usually empty, and since Alfonso had left for the royal palace yesterday, there was no chance she’d run into him in this embarrassing state.

Each step sent a dull ache through her lower parts. The moment Cedric had filled her completely replayed itself in her mind.

‘He’s not normal.’

Sheila shook her head hard.

Since becoming the whipping maid and having more contact with Cedric, Sheila had briefly wondered if he might be a better person than she thought.

He wasn’t fickle like Judith or Count and Countess Calley, and he didn’t leer at maids like Allen.

And when he beat her, it wasn’t random violence but corporal punishment within rules they’d agreed upon. Of course, getting beaten in Judith’s place was absurd from the start, but noble culture was full of things that made no sense. That part wasn’t Cedric’s personal fault.

So Sheila had begun to think he might be a better master than she’d expected. Like Alfonso, who’d turned out to be warmer than she originally thought, even though she hadn’t known him well.

Maybe, just maybe, when she’d first become a maid and he’d told her to get lost, it had been because she’d unknowingly done something wrong. Back then, she’d been clumsy with everything.

She’d cried a lot trying to endure the temper of a foul-mouthed nine-year-old noble lady.

And every night, missing her late father and sister, Sheila soaked her pillow with tears. If she’d had anywhere to return to, she would’ve packed her bags many times.

But at her family home, the only one waiting was her older brother Fred, not her father or her sister Fabiola. So she’d clenched her teeth and endured, making it this far.

But even if she’d gotten caught, she’d gotten caught in the worst possible way. Cedric was, without question, the most incomprehensible person in the entire Calley family.

Now that she thought about it, the moment before he returned from Lotas—when he’d ordered renovations to build that bizarre room—had already been a sign that he wasn’t normal.

But even knowing he wasn’t normal and was a pervert, there was nothing she could do. For now, just like always, she had no choice but to endure life in this mansion.

As she walked slowly, Sheila steeled herself once more. The moment she entered her room, she carefully lowered herself onto the bed. And she fell asleep just like that.

Sheila woke only when she felt him applying ointment to her buttocks.

“I-I’m fine….”

The moment she opened her eyes and tried to sit up in surprise, Cedric, who had pulled up a work chair and was sitting beside her, stopped her.

“Stay still.”

Sheila calmed herself and relaxed her body. She’d only reacted from waking up suddenly, and resisting him would only make everything take longer.

After he finished applying ointment, he pulled her underwear back up and lowered the skirt she’d had rolled to her waist. His touch was courteous, just like when he’d opened the door to that strange room earlier.

“Thank… you.”

“You don’t sound thankful at all.”

Hearing him speak in that way—like he’d slipped inside her and come back out—made Sheila’s face burn.

In truth, none of this was something she was thankful for.

If this was how it’d turn out, he could’ve just pretended to beat her lightly.

Beating and then treating her wounds. Despite those actions being complete opposites, he always seemed to give both his full effort.

Because of that, Sheila didn’t know how she was supposed to act around him.

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

She’d let him into her room tonight for this reason.

“What is it?”

Sheila took out the contract she’d stored under her bed, just like before.

“I did read it. I did… but….”

“But?”

“I’ve never seen anything about paying double.”

She emphasized that she’d personally reviewed the contract.

“So you want me to confirm it for you?”

“Yes.”

Cedric let out a laugh of disbelief.

“You followed me into that room without even checking whether that clause existed?”

With that one mocking remark, Sheila felt like the most foolish woman in the world.

“I-I just thought… anything was better than being hit…!”

When Sheila protested with a serious expression, Cedric ignored her and took the contract from her hands.

Just like last time, he unfolded it immediately and held it out to her, as if every word inside was already memorized in his superior brain.

“Read Article Eleven, the section about the whipping maid’s pay.”

Sheila, puzzled, turned to that part. Of all sections, the pay section was one she’d read over and over.

“‘1. Party A shall pay Party B ten solids of whipping-maid salary each month in advance. 2. The salary may be adjusted depending on circumstances. However, it can’t be reduced below ten solids.’”

She read aloud the lines she’d already gone through countless times.

Article Eleven consisted only of those two clauses. Sheila handed the contract back. Her expression already said everything: This is all there is. What are you talking about?

“Why aren’t you reading what’s below it?”

“Below it…?”

Did he mean Article Twelve? But he’d told her to read Article Eleven.

“The small text under it.”

Small text…!

Now that she thought about it, there was something written in tiny letters between the densely packed lines of text. She hadn’t paid it much attention, but it had definitely been there from the beginning.

‘Wasn’t this the kind of thing you could skip reading?’

Even reading only the larger print had been hard enough for Sheila, so she’d naturally skimmed over the minuscule letters. Her naive belief that the smaller the letters, the less important they’d be had played a part too.

However, the more she narrowed her eyes and read through the tiny letters, the wider Sheila’s eyes grew.