by Terri Pray
“Well, something come up.” The door opened under the hand of a footman, and Celeste peered out, seeing the gathering of men, servants. All eyes seeming to move to her half naked form.
“So I see, a new toy?” Dark hair, a slight slur to his voice, dressed in the ill-fitting court fashions, the man seemed uncaring about the woman in the carriage.
“Indeed, picked up today. She's got a long way to go before she adapts to my needs.” Davien reached down, grabbing her by the back of her neck. “Up you get slave. It's not polite to keep our host waiting.”
She half stumbled to her feet, looking around as his grip tightened on her neck. She wanted to move, to break away from his hold. Panic soared through her body, but there was nothing she could do but move where he wanted her to. Still wearing her boots she fell out of the carriage, eyes wild, hair falling half over her face as he pushed her forward toward the open doors of the large home that sprawled out before her.
Lord Brian, she knew the name, most of the locals did, but they kept away from him. He was the sort of man who would shoot you as soon as look at you, and wasn't one to hold off whipping men or women who got in the way of his horses.
Monsters. Men like Davien and Brian were nothing more than monsters wearing the guise of human men.
“Pretty little thing. I've not seen hair like that on a local woman, but for one at a distance.”
“Celeste,” he nodded, “the sister of that red haired whore.”
“Ah, yes. Mystic. I've sampled her a time or two. Nothing special, but she's willing and submits to whatever a man wants of her, though she's not one I would have around on a regular basis.”
Her stomach knotted. Was there a man or boy locally who hadn't lifted her sisters skirts?
“I'm surprised the wench hasn't caught the pox with the way she's been spreading herself around.” Brian shook his head. “But the sister, now a rumor told me she remains untouched, is that true?”
“From her reactions to date I would say yes, but I will know for certain before the night is over.”
The words washed through her in a wave of cold knives, slicing through her heart and soul alike. Her sex rippled, tightening on nothing, a tremor claiming her thighs, sweat coating her body. She had no choice, no choice at all. His grip turned her toward the open doors, pushing her firmly to the light and warmth offered there— a warmth that should have wrapped about her in a welcoming embrace, but instead, only served to chill her to the bone.
A dozen gazes followed her shaking path into the house, her arms wrapping about her body, the linen pulled taut across her breasts. She needed to make them believe she was not going to run, that she'd obey the arrogant bastard. Her shoulders slumped, the fight seeping from her body, at least outwardly.
“She's very different from her sister, pale, a cold flame almost.” Brian murmured, the large doors closing behind them. “I can't imagine they were sired by the same man.”
“Sometimes a bitch will go looking for a new stud to produce a better pup than the last one.” His grip shifted slowly up into her hair, fingers tangling into the soft, silken mane. “That might be the case here, though I've seen the bitch in question, she was as dark as the hill fey legends. I have to wonder if this one wasn't some foundling they took in. The Irish are daft that way, picking up waifs and strays.”
Waifs and strays indeed. She was the rightful daughter, born and raised to take over the duties of the household. What foundling would ever be given such care of duty or responsibility?
“That could well be the truth of the matter, but we might never know. Now, Brian. A room if you have one. I would spend a little time with the girl before we join you for supper.”
“A little business to attend to?” Brian smiled. “Well, I would do the same if I were in your position. The master guest room is ready, you know where it is, I believe.”
“I do, and will join you within a few hours. That should be more than enough time to set a few matters straight.” Davien nodded, looking around the hallway. “Gordon, bring my sack and the small chest. There are a few items in there I will need.”
Her heart felt like a piece of lead in the pit of her stomach. Tension forming under his fingers, the grip never faltering as he turned her toward a set of wide, elegant stairs forcing her to climb.
She could feel the mocking gazes, the lingering touches of the eyes of the men and women around her as she was hurried past them dressed in her shift, boots and woolen stockings. She'd never been so naked in front of others in her life. Even her sister hadn't seen her like this, not in years at least. Not since they'd been children.
Soft candles flickered their welcoming light along the hallway, nestled on the narrow shelves that lined the dark walls. Paintings of a dozen stern faced men looked down on her, stripping her with their silent gazes, mocking smiles tugging at their lips.
“In,” he growled, shoving her into a room, sending her hard to her knees on a thick rug covering the floor. The door slammed shut behind them before she had a chance to recover from the shove. “Well, now, little slave, we have a few things we can do to settle for the night.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it quickly. He'd ordered her into silence earlier in the carriage and given her no leave to speak now.
“Good, you recall the order.”
She nodded softly, soft wisps of hair spilling over her eyes.
“Take off your boots and kneel on the rug in front of the fire.” He pointed to the low, warm blaze in the open fireplace. “I don't believe you will have any use for those boots right now, or for some time to come.”
She glanced up toward the man, his gaze dark and intense, moving over her form as she stripped the boots from her feet. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she shifted onto her knees in front of the fire, her thighs pressed tightly together beneath the thin shift. Warmth, she needed it from the trip in the carriage, the cold air had blown in from the open windows.
“Well now, I think I've stumbled on a gem. Or a potential one at least. How old are you girl?
“Eighteen.” By a matter of days.
“And untouched by men?” His voice remained cold as he settled down in the high backed chair at the side of the fireplace.
“Yes, Master.” She felt sick using the word, but better to make him think she was compliant.
“Good, but you understand I will have to test such information for myself.”
“Why would you need to?” He couldn't mean he would want to... of course he did. Heat claimed her cheeks, as blush crept over her shoulders, disappearing under the edge of the linen.
“Ah, yes I see you have realized just why I need to check. It will affect what training I need to put you through and how that will progress.” He leaned back in the chair, his gaze lingering on the soft curves of her breasts. “Have you ever been kissed?”
She wanted to say no, but she could remember the deep, soul searing kiss the Raven had taken from her. “Yes, once Master.”
“And did you enjoy it?” His gaze didn't leave her eyes now, peering into their depths.
If she denied it that would have been a lie. She'd enjoyed the kiss, had craved more from the Raven. How many nights had the memory of that touch to her lips and soul alike, left her squirming under her covers, fighting the need to stroke her fingers down her own body? A need she had fought, controlled, kept herself from giving into, no matter how often his eyes had haunted her dreams.
“Well?”
“Yes, Master. I did.”
“Who was it, a local farm lad fumbling for a touch, to see if you were as willing as that sister of yours?” The cruel lines of his smile only infuriated her.
“No, it was the Raven.”
One eyebrow arched upward, his fingers steepling. “I see. The highwayman was it? And he only stole a kiss. How foolish of him. He could have sampled you deeply, then stolen you away.”
“Perhaps I didn't interest him in that way, or he was only acting to silence
me so I would not cry out and waken the family.” She had told herself that a dozen times over since their meeting in the stables.
“I doubt the Raven is a blind man, and it would take one with no sight not to be interested in the fire filled delights beneath the cloak of ice you wrap yourself within.” Davien's gaze held hers. “How did you meet him?”
“He was stealing a horse from our farm. I'm not sure why, and we didn't stop to exchange pleasantries.” She'd grabbed the pitchfork before she'd even had the chance to realize who it was that had entered the stable. Waved it toward him, growling for him to leave the farm.
How easy it had been for him to take the weapon from her arms and pin her to the side of the wall. He'd growled, telling her that had a man threatened him thus he'd be pinned there by the very steel prongs she'd threatened him with, but he'd be taking a different reward from her.
“I see, and you stumbled in on him?”
“Yes,” she murmured. Her lips tingled at the memory of his kiss, the feel of his breath against her body, the scent of sweat, leather and steel.
“Well now, perhaps he planned to reclaim you one day. A pity he left it so long, but his folly is to my benefit.” He nodded, more to himself than anyone else. “The stockings, remove them.”
“I... ” The order took her off guard, but the protest died on her lips. Silently she shifted her feet out from under her body, lowering her gaze quickly as she sought out the edge of her woolen stockings. Her fingers shook, the stockings catching under her nails as she eased them down from her thighs. The tight, carefully woven garters and the thick woolen stockings were soon set to one side on the thick rug.
“Good, you're learning to obey me without the need for a discussion. I doubt that will apply to every order I give you. I'm no fool, but a habit once formed is difficult to break.” He spoke almost as though he might have been discussing the training of a horse rather than another human being.
She tried to hide the anger that blazed in her eyes, lowering her gaze in the attempt to keep him from seeing it.
“Angry? Of course you are, you'd have to be a piece of stone not to be upset by my plans. Or a whore willing to do anything for the right coin. Only in this case there is no coin, no piece of silver or frippery for you to earn. Just a life before you as my property. Amusing when you think about it.”
Amusing? She was a source of entertainment for him?
“Take off the shift, fold it neatly to one side then kneel with your thighs parted.”
She blanched, hands knotting on her thighs. That would reveal everything to his view. Her most hidden parts, the tender inner lips that no man had seen before. “I can't,” she stammered, shaking her head.
“You can and you will.”
Celeste shifted on the rug, her gaze moving toward the door. Closed and no doubt locked, she couldn't be sure she had heard the key in the door, but even if she did make it that far what then? Brian was Davien's friend, and knew what was going on. He understood she was held there against her will yet had done nothing about the situation.
“Strip, or be punished. It's a very simple set of choices.”
Her fingers tightened on the edge of the shift, her heart pounding against her chest. What if this was a test, if he wasn't really the sort who would punish her for not stripping off. He could have just been testing her, waiting to see if she truly was different, or nothing more than another willing whore like her sister?
“I won't.”
“I see. Well then, I suppose I should just let you go if you're not willing to obey me.”
Hope rose and died in a moment, in the cold look that shone from his eyes.
She moved, edging back to her feet, her teeth closing on her bottom lip, searching for a way to escape. He moved faster though, closing the distance between them, fingers tangling in the linen, ripping it from her body in a heartbeat. The shift was tossed to the floor as she tried to cover her breasts and mound with her hands.
“Silly slut, did you really think that would cover you?” He laughed, a piercing sound, without any real humor.
“Please, don't,” she murmured, taking a step back from him.
“Why ever not?” He reached out, grasping her by the wrists. Tearing them away from her body, the only covering she had, now forced down to her sides to reveal every inch of her pale form. “You'll become used to having others look upon you, but for now we have a small lesson in obedience to work through, don't we?”
Did she have a choice here? No, but the way he phrased it, the tone in his voice, light, teasing, yet cold enough to freeze water, appeared to amuse him.
“Well now, what to do with you?” His hands tightened on her wrists, yanking them up above her head until she arched in pain. She could have kicked, struck out, but with bare feet she'd have only hurt herself more than him. “Such an interesting form, pale, full breasts, skin that will be easy to mark, but I wouldn't want those marks to be too deep, not just yet at least.”
He turned her by the grip on her wrists, until she stood with her back to him. Her gaze fell on the bed, realization settling in before he even began to march her toward it. Without another word he pushed her forward, over the edge, her ass high in the air. “A quick lesson will be enough and will also allow me to check on that virgin status of yours.”
Gods, he was going to rape her.
Celeste cried out, fear alive in every fiber of her being. She struggled, his grip holding her against the bed by her wrists. Both in one hand, she tried kicking out, desperation taking control of her actions, but there was nothing she could do. No way she could break free.
“Strong, but not strong enough, my slut.” His hand cracked down against the bare cheeks of her upturned ass. A single blow, enough to shock her before the pain set in. “I'll enjoy the struggles, knowing you can't break free, that you're helpless in my arms. Or chains. However it is that I have you secured at the time.”
Heat and pain combined from the strike, her body pressed against the soft covering of the bed. “Please, don't do this to me. I'll behave, I'll obey you.”
“Of course you will, until the time arises you no longer believe you need to. Or I give you an order you don't want to follow, a little like you did just a moment ago.” His fingers brushed over her ass, trailing the lingering warmth from the smack. “But I am allowing you to distract me, if only for a moment or two, and I really cannot permit that to continue.”
Twice more his hand smacked against her ass cheeks, two sharp sounds that tore a gulp of pain from her body. She couldn't go through with this. Yes it was just a spanking, but the punishment was more than painful, it was humiliating. To be struck the same as a child might be.
Five quick, sharp swats sliced through the air, coloring her cheeks, heating them until she stopped gasping with the blows and began to cry out. Warmth spread from the handprints, her legs kicking out, not caring for a moment that such movement parted her thighs, baring her sex to his view.
“You color well, very well indeed.” His free hand moved over her skin, warm from spanking her. His other hand remained closed about her wrists though she no longer had the breath to fight him. Her bottom throbbed from the blows, tears burned in her eyes, breath caught in the back of her throat. “I will have to see what else can be done to you tonight to bring that color out. A belt perhaps?”
A low whimper tore from her lips, a violent shake of her head, not that it would do much good. She couldn't stop him. No matter what he wanted to do she couldn't stop him. His grip on her wrists made that very clear.
“Yes, a belt, it will help with your lesson.” Leather slipped from the loops of his trousers. It slapped once against the bedding, a sharp sound. A strike against the fabric. Air brushing over her body. How would it feel biting into her body?
“This will work well, won't it little slut?”
She wanted to remain silent, but the low moan that filled the room spoke of her body's betrayal, the fear that clawed at her throat.
“
Yes, it will indeed.” Leather sliced through the air, striking across both her ass cheeks in a loud, terrifying crack of red hot pain. The cry turned into a scream, fear, heat, pain, it all blended across her body, over the twin mounds of her ass. She couldn't escape it, nor the second blow that lashed out over her cheeks.
“Welts, good. Those will remind you of this moment, though two simply isn't enough. Four more, little slut, a simple reminder of the penalty for disobedience. Of course, every time you break a rule, or disobey me, the punishment will be stepped up.” The leather slapped out through the air, giving her a moment to tense before it bit into her flesh, forcing a new scream from her lips, hips rocking, pressing against the edge of the bed.
“Such delightful sounds, do you think they can hear you in the hallway, or the kitchen?” Twice more the leather bit into the firm flesh of her ass, welts springing to life as lines of fire across her body. Pain. Her world had become an ocean of pain. It didn't matter what questions he asked her, or what he spoke of, her mind couldn't grasp the words, didn't make sense of them.
The tip of the leather pressed between her thighs, edging them apart. The fight had gone from her under the strikes, the hurt that already clenched a wicked path through her form.
“Good, hold position. I wouldn't want to have to add another strike as punishment for ignoring such a simple order.”
She tensed, even like this she now struggled to obey him, not thinking on how he could see every part of her.
Two swift blows cracked over her taut and trembling ass, new pain, fresh lines of fire, but she didn't move her thighs or try to close them. Instead she fought with her own body, wanting to hold position, somehow finding the strength to obey him.
“You see, you can follow my commands, at least some of the time.” He spoke softly, almost approving, or so it seemed.
She didn't care, as long as it meant she wasn't going to be hurt again.
