by Kane, Lacey
When the warm, hazy glow of pleasure started to dissipate, the fierce, animalistic rutting returned. Master put his hands around Jocelyn’s throat and he squeezed, making it impossible to take but the smallest of breaths. Lord bit down upon first one breast and then the other as they thrust into her over and over again until they both spent within her. She called out again with another blessed release as the hot, sticky evidence of their lust coated both her womb and her bowels.
That was when Jocelyn knew that Master was right. She would beg him for all of those things and more.
As sated as he could ever recall being in his life, Gabriel reluctantly withdrew his softening tool from Jocelyn’s posterior. He instructed his footmen to lower the chains holding her bound wrists, and he and Montfort caught her as she fell forward, gently lowering her body.
He left her legs attached to the posts so she was hanging by her ankles. With her hands on the floor to support her, Jocelyn greedily cleaned both of their organs with her tongue while they stretched their legs out before them, relaxing after their efforts.
The Great Hall was still filled with the delightful sounds of his maids’ punishments.
After delivering the hundred strokes with the riding crop, North had then switched to a birch rod and granted Mariah another hundred strokes with that. Now he had moved on to fucking her—in the arse, Gabriel would wager, judging from the sounds of intense pain coming from the seamstress. She’d never been fond of sodomy, no matter how often she’d been subjected to it, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that North was well aware of her preferences.
On the opposite end of the hall, Gwen was gagging on a prick while the one ramming her from behind was striking with such force that her entire cage was screeching across the floor. Since he’d ordered her punishment, a constant stream of footmen had come and gone, with more always standing off to the side, readying their pricks for a good fuck.
When Keane had come in for his turn, he’d taken it upon himself to bring lit candles, which he’d used to pour hot wax down over her as he’d fucked her. She’d screamed so deliciously from the wax that he’d flipped her cage over and repeated the process on her tits and gash. A while later, another footman had removed all of the dried wax from her skin so that they could repeat the process. If Gabriel had to wager upon he, he’d guess that Gwen had had at least four tapered candles dripped over her body by now, and it wasn’t even time for luncheon yet.
But he had yet to break his fast, and the only thing Jocelyn had eaten was a bit of cock.
When she had properly cleaned both Gabriel and Montfort, he brought over a pitcher of cold water and poured it over Jocelyn, washing away their seed. She cried out in shock from the temperature of the water, and hung there shivering as it dripped down her. The sight delighted him so much that he repeated the process three more times. Then he took a cloth and scrubbed her dry. He and Montfort removed the shackles from her wrists and ankles, then left the Great Hall and the punishments taking place there behind with his pet tossed over his shoulder, her still wet black hair dripping upon the floor as they went.
Deringer was just on his way in, most likely to call upon Gwen, as they came out. Gabriel stopped him. “I’ll need a few lengths of rope and your assistance in tying my pet. Bring it to the dining room.”
The groom nodded and sprinted away.
The table was still laid for breakfast when they arrived. Gabriel sat in his seat and pulled Jocelyn sideways onto his lap, stroking her twat lazily with fingers. Montfort took a seat and helped himself to a plate. Only a moment passed before Deringer came in with his ropes.
“Pull her arms behind her back and bend them at the elbows,” Gabriel instructed his groom.
When he’d done so and Gabriel had given him a nod, Deringer expertly tied her so that she couldn’t move her arms at all. Then, upon Gabriel’s instructions, he pulled Jocelyn’s hair back and tied it with a length of rope to her arms, forcing her head to remain pulled back so her neck was fully exposed.
They worked together to position her legs as he wanted them, first bending them at the knees and tying each ankle to her upper thighs, then pulling her knees up and to the side. He added more ropes to prevent her legs from moving downward, by connecting them to the ropes on her arms.
Once the task was complete, Gabriel sent Deringer on his way.
He removed Jocelyn from his lap, laying her on her belly upon the table, and placed her plate in front of her. On numerous occasions, she’d been forced to eat in similar positions, with only the use of her mouth. This time, however, she had the added difficulty of having her head pulled back. She was forced to rock her body forward for each bite.
After several attempts, she sorted out how to go about it. Then Gabriel set about filling his own stomach. By the time he and Montfort had worked through two full plates each, Jocelyn had only managed to eat about a third of her food.
He stood and moved down behind her. Taking her by the ropes at her back, Gabriel lifted her upright and held her still while she drank a full glass of water. Then he returned her to her stomach, resumed his seat, and faced Montfort.
“There are things we ought to discuss,” he said.
The earl lifted a brow, his laughing, sardonic demeanor having returned after their morning exertions and a hearty meal in his stomach.
“My pet is doing very well in learning her new position,” Gabriel said slowly, thinking carefully as he spoke. Jocelyn had handled everything he’d given her beautifully so far, but if he involved Montfort more fully in her training… He looked down at her, and though she was making a visible effort to focus upon her meal, her eyes were trained upon him.
Montfort’s methods were so perverse, he could put Gabriel to shame many times over. Subjecting Jocelyn to that so soon in her training could terrify her beyond belief. But if she wasn’t subjected to it before the rest of the guests arrived, wouldn’t that be far worse in the grand scheme of things?
He stared straight through her, willing his words to bury themselves within her very soul. “The rest of my guests are set to arrive in a week. I’d like your assistance in making certain she is ready for everything we’ll be asking of her.”
The panic he’d so often seen over the last week returned to Jocelyn’s expression then.
Montfort grinned and cracked his knuckles. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Before Jocelyn could prepare herself, Montfort had spun her around and flipped her over, and had one entire hand deep in her cunt while the other was working its way into her arse. That wasn’t quite what Gabriel had had in mind, but it would do the job.
“Oh! Oh, no. Please no.”
Gabriel wouldn’t have her arguing with them, though. He stood over her and slapped each of her breasts several times, then scraped over her teats with the prongs of a fork. “Beg your Lord to fuck you with both fists, and do it fast.”
The remainder of her breakfast long since forgotten, they kept her tied as she was for the remainder of the day, with the addition of a wad of cloth stuffed inside her mouth, kept in place by another rope tied behind her head. Now that she’d climaxed again for the first time in almost a week, Gabriel and Montfort agreed they should deny her the opportunity to repeat that feat again until such time as the rest of the guests arrived, ignoring Jocelyn’s whimpers and moans over their pronouncement.
After the footmen cleared away their breakfast dishes, the two of them treated her to the joys of hot wax upon her most sensitive places, having been inspired by Keane’s treatment of Gwen in the Great Hall. Then, as she was overly hot from the wax and too close to finding release, they took her to the kitchens and had Cook ice her down.
After Cook had sufficiently cooled her burning ardor by drawing ice over her body, particularly her teats and cunt, until she was dripping wet and chattering from the cold, they took her out to ride Hell’s Bitch using the special saddle. With her arms and legs bound as they were, Deringer was forced to use more ropes to bind her in pla
ce upon the saddle, which they then fastened to the beast with her already attached. He took great care in making certain she couldn’t possibly fall off, leaving little but Jocelyn’s breasts, bottom, and head free of the bindings.
Gabriel led Hell’s Bitch out to the paddock and Montfort followed with a horsewhip he’d selected from the wall. As Gabriel exercised his horse, Montfort made certain Jocelyn’s ride would be anything but smooth, alternating between whipping the Jocelyn’s teats, her buttocks, and the horse’s flanks.
After a few hours, they pulled her down. Gabriel so liked the handiwork of Deringer’s knots that they left her bound as tightly as she was, leaving free access to her head, tits, arse, and pussy, but with everything else covered.
The three of them stood in the stables admiring how red and swollen Jocelyn’s gash and arse were after her ride, not to mention how lovely she looked with tears streaking down her cheeks as she sobbed and moaned on the dirt floor beneath her.
“Deringer,” Gabriel finally said after they’d been staring at her for a good ten minutes, stroking their blades to life. “You’ve done excellent work today with binding my pet. Would you care to be the first of my servants to fuck my pet?”
“It would be an honor, Your Grace.”
Jocelyn squealed into her gag and tried to squirm, but bound as she was, she could only move an inch or two.
Deringer easily hefted her from the floor of the stables. He tossed her, face first, on a pile of hay and knelt behind her. His shaft split into her, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, driving her back onto him as he thrust like a madman.
He’d been rutting her for a good ten minutes when she started to make mewling sounds into her gag instead of complaints. Without Gabriel telling him she was not to be pleasured, Deringer immediately took her from the comfort of the hay. Any chance of her climaxing fled when he resumed thumping her—he’d placed her against a wall, half her face pressed into the dirt, the other half rubbing against the wood as he straddled her and drove down into her from above, bracing himself with his hands upon the wall. The only things preventing Jocelyn from falling over were Deringer’s strong legs on either side of her and his prick deep inside her.
Gabriel lost track of time watching the glorious scene before him. The groom’s stamina was more than just a bit impressive. When he finally shouted and filled her with his cream, the sun was beginning its descent.
Deringer put Jocelyn on her back on the ground. He ripped away the gag and straddled her face, driving his loins into her over and over again as she cleaned him with her tongue. By the time she was done, he was ready again.
“You should bugger her, too, if you want,” Montfort suggested.
Gabriel was halfway to denying this, but then thought about it longer. The reason he’d asked for Montfort’s help was because he would do things Gabriel would not. Gabriel would not willingly share his pet’s posterior. He wanted that for himself, at least until such time as the other guests arrived. Then she would be available to anyone, in any way.
But if he were to truly prepare her for such an occasion…
He nodded.
That was all the permission Deringer needed. Ignoring Jocelyn’s pained protests, he flipped her over into the same position and planted his root in her stern. Her screams were louder now, without her gag in place, and so Montfort moved over beside them. He placed a foot on the side of her face and pressed down. When still she didn’t quiet, he pressed his toes into her mouth, using them to fuck her mouth even as Deringer fucked her arse. Soon, her screams were replaced by a wet, near-gagging sound.
He kept using his foot in her mouth even after Deringer had finished. When finally Montfort stopped, he used that same foot to kick her over until she rolled to Deringer’s feet. Again, she licked him clean while he rutted over her mouth. Once more, just as before, Jocelyn’s efforts resulted in Deringer coming away at the ready to thrum her again.
“I think,” Montfort said when they were done and she was left crying on the floor, covered in dirt and tears and Deringer’s seed, “perhaps we should let Deringer work the rest of his lust out upon Gwen, and then have your pet clean Gwen to earn her next meal.”
The footman’s strong hands shoved the cloth, now covered in dirt and who knew what else, back into Jocelyn’s mouth and tied the rope around her head, muffling her screams of protest.
Lord carried her, from the stables to the great house, and all the way into the Great Hall. From the musk of arousal and the pained screams greeting her, Jocelyn was certain that they were still rutting Gwen in the cage.
As he had earlier, Master poured several pitchers of cold water over her to rinse away the dirt, sweat, semen, and whatnot that covered her. Then, while Lord and Deringer went off to prepare Gwen, he removed her gag and forced her to drink some more water.
She’d barely swallowed it all when he shoved her onto her back on the floor and replaced the glass with his cock. He sat over her, so his anus was over her nose when he was fully seated. With her hair pulled back hard as it was, he had an easy path down her throat, once he pushed past her gag reflex.
Master thrust into her repeatedly, using her breasts as handles to steady himself. For long stretches at a time she couldn’t breathe, his manhood and his bottom never leaving her enough to suck anything through her airway. But then, just before she would pass out from lack of air, he would pull free and slap her tits, and she’d gasp just before he returned.
Finally, and yet altogether too soon, a salty stream of his juice spilled forth down her throat and over her tongue, and she was licking him clean.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and Jocelyn was confused. Ready for what?
“Yes, now,” Lord responded, and then Jocelyn’s panic returned.
As soon as Master pulled out, Gwen’s cunny was placed over Jocelyn’s mouth. Her eyes shot wide. She looked up at the maid. Semen coated her sex, her thighs, all the way up her belly and over her breasts—it was everywhere.
Jocelyn didn’t want to clean Gwen. She cried, but the sound was muffled against the maid’s sex.
Gwen was pushed forward so she leaned over Jocelyn, and then more ropes were wrapped around them both. They forced Jocelyn’s mouth higher up into Gwen’s mound so she barely had room to breathe, and then Gwen’s legs were situated beneath Jocelyn’s back and tied in place.
The crop came down over Jocelyn’s button, and she screamed into the maid’s gash. “Lick, pet,” Lord commanded.
So she licked.
But then another weight came down above her chest, further limiting her ability to breathe, and Gwen screamed as well. They all started to move again, in a furious rutting motion dictated by the man thrusting into the maid. Someone was sodomizing Gwen while Jocelyn was tied to her cunny, licking her clean.
The maid’s screams kept flowing, and the man kept fucking, and Lord kept striking Jocelyn’s pussy with his crop. She wanted to scream and cry and scream some more, but she knew this would not end until she’d licked the maid clean.
So she licked some more, and kept licking until she had cleaned every bit of seed her tongue could reach. But then a new wetness came down to her mouth, and Gwen’s screams turned to rapturous moans, and still the man kept sodomizing her.
Jocelyn had to continue licking, lest she drown or lose her limited ability to breathe, so she did. And the moisture kept coming and coming and coming.
When Jocelyn was certain she couldn’t take any more, the man buggering Gwen finally shouted and stilled. A minute later, he climbed off her chest, and then she felt hands undoing the ropes that held her to Gwen’s sex. Lord never stopped cropping her button.
The maid was lifted off her. Almost immediately, she was flipped around and resettled over Jocelyn’s mouth…this time with her gaping bottom.
For just a moment, the cropping stopped. But then a sound whistled through the air, and the sharpest sensation Jocelyn had ever felt replaced the crop. She let out a strangled scream and fresh tears fell from
her eyes.
“A birch rod,” Lord said, answering the question she could not ask. “And it will not stop striking you until you have cleaned every bit of Gwen’s body.”
He held true to his word, continuing his torture without even slowing down in the slightest, as Master’s strong arms flipped and adjusted Gwen over Jocelyn’s mouth. She was forced to lick the maid’s bum, her thighs, her belly, her breasts, and then her cunny was returned until Jocelyn had licked her to another release.
When finally the maid was lifted free, Jocelyn hoped the blows from the rod would cease. Her hopes proved unfounded, however, as then Deringer once again sat over Jocelyn’s face, in the same manner as Master had only a short while ago, and placed his member in her mouth.
“You are to clean him as well,” Master said beside her ear, “because he was the one who fucked Gwen while you licked her twat.”
So she licked some more, marveling that he could have spilled himself three times in such rapid succession…and then marveling more than he was hardening within her mouth. When he was long enough to reach the back of her throat, he spread his knees wider and lowered his hips, and rutted her face just as hard as he’d rutted her bum in the stable.
Jocelyn glugged and gurgled, trying to breathe around the massive cock filling her mouth and throat even as Lord continued to strike her sex with his birch rod.
This time, Deringer did not last as long as he had previously though. Within a few minutes, he was spilling himself down her throat. When at last he stood, Jocelyn frantically looked to Lord, hoping he would cease his torment. He continued for another ten blows, and then he set it aside.
Jocelyn shuddered in relief.
“Is it not supper time?” he asked Master then, as cool as may be.
