by Terri Pray
“One last thing to check.” He murmured, sliding his free hand between her thighs, the leather falling to the floor. “Your maiden status.”
Shame washed through her body. Her thighs tensed, but she didn't dare close them now. Not after he'd beaten her like this. She wanted to though, wanted to close her thighs, fight against the touch, but knew better. She needed time, a moment to recover, and giving him reason to use the belt on her again so soon made no sense at all.
Still, she didn't want it.
His fingers moved over her lower lips, parting them with a near gentle caress. He was touching her, stroking, a light touch that should have come from her husband, or a chosen man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, not the man holding her to the bed.
“Tight.” He grunted, his finger sliding between her lips, into the dark warm confines of her sex, pushing deep until he touched something in her. A barrier. The mark of an untouched woman. “Good, still there. I'll enjoy breaking you in. You have potential. You squirm well to the belt and in time you'll arch under me. All it will take is a little training.”
Nothing more than a beast, like a horse after all. To be trained and broken in. Lord, what had she done to deserve this?
CHAPTER THREE
“Our host will be waiting for us. It would be impolite for us to keep him waiting— not that I expect a farm slut like you to be aware of matters such as good manners. I doubt you did little more than roll about in the mud.” His fingers still lingered between her thighs, pressing her lips apart though the one, probing digit no longer pried into her tight depths.
Shame. She had grown to know that well in just a short time in his care. The more he spoke, the longer he spent with her, the deeper that level of shame grew. He didn't care for anything more than his pleasure, she was just the instrument.
“Now, on your knees little slave, we'll be joining him for a meal, though you will not be eating from the table. Beasts eat on their hands and knees from pans, dishes, like all animals of your kind.” His fingers combed through her hair a moment, releasing the grip on her wrists. “And your hair will make an excellent leash. I don't think I will let you cut this again, small trims to keep it presentable are matters I will see to, but cutting. No. It will stay like this.”
She wanted to fight out against him, scowl, growl, tear free of the grasp he had on her body, but he had the upper hand in more ways than one. To know that her hair would be used to keep her in line only added to the shame and anger she felt.
“On your hands and knees little pet. Beasts do not walk, they crawl.” He tugged at her hair, forcing her down to the floor. “And you are denied the right to speak. Beasts do not use their voice except to whine, growl and whimper. Perhaps, if I become pleased with your training, I may allow you small mercies in the future.”
Her stomach knotted fully, fingers curling into the thick rug. Even with the grip in her hair, she felt her head lower, shoulders slumping with the despair that threatened to claim her body, mind and soul.
“Head up, slut.” He tugged hard on the grip on her hair, forcing her head upward. “You're my beast, and will learn to show yourself off for both my pleasure and those around you.”
Bastard. She wanted to scream the word out but her ass stung from the welts that now flamed across her ass. Breaking his orders would have brought more in the way of pain and punishment. Not something she dared to risk. Not now, not ever with how he had shown he could be.
Worse still, there was the growing knowledge that what he had done was only the beginning of what she would be forced to do at his hands. His eyes, the coldness, gems of ice that pierced her being, never showed even a hint of mercy, or offered a shred of hope. She was nothing to him but a creature to be trained.
Her shoulders slumped, a lump forming in the back of her throat. She had to find a way to survive this, and come out stronger. She'd not let the constant snide remarks from Mystic hurt her, or the looks from the others in the village when they'd wondered if she was cut from the same cloth as her older sister.
The harsh grip turned her toward the door, uncaring that she was naked and welted, held on her hands and knees as a new pet. She tried to focus, to find a way to bite back the tears that threatened. No, she was stronger than that. She wouldn't give him her tears over something like this. A wall, a shield, something she could build around her heart, to hide behind. There had to be a way, something she could use to survive this humiliation.
The door opened, a soft breeze caressing her naked form as he guided her into the hallway. How many would be waiting for them in the dining room? One? A dozen? It wouldn't matter, she'd still be shamed.
Her mind hunted for an image to cling to, a thought that would help her survive this. A pair of dark eyes glittering over a scarf sprung to life. That moment when he'd lifted the triangle of heavy black cloth, his lips brushing over hers, claiming them, parting them with a growl of insistence. Warmth bubbled to life between her thighs as she crawled after Davien through the hallway. The Raven would never have treated her like this. Instead he'd have snatched her up, carried her away on his horse, his hands exploring her body with a soft possessiveness before she came to know what true pleasure was in his arms.
A foolish, childish dream, but it would be enough to see her through this first night in Davien's hands.
Stairs. She faltered, pulling back a little despite the firm grip that still tangled in her long silver white hair. How in hell's name was she supposed to crawl down a flight of stairs? Even as wide and well placed as they were, she'd never be able to do it.
“I didn't give you permission to pull back, beast.”
She nodded toward the edge of the stairs, whimpering. Hoping he would understand the problem.
“Ah, yes. Well, you will have to learn to traverse the stairs at some point, why not now?”
Her bottom lip caught in her teeth, the grip in her hair forcing her to the edge of the stairs without hesitation or mercy. She peered down the staircase, twenty or so steps, wide, but face down, how could she manage to crawl down them without falling? He didn't give her the chance to wait, or figure it out, the grip tightened as he took a step down the wide flight of stairs.
Panic surged into life, a cold sweat coating her skin. She'd fall. Even with the grip in her hair, she'd fall and hurt herself. Images flashed before her eyes, her body, bruised and broken at the bottom of the stairs. His laughter ringing in her ears. She'd be still forced to crawl into the dining room, even after such a fall.
Celeste tried to move slowly, easing her hands down onto the top step, her body tense, shoulders knotting. Snakes writhed in her stomach, long strands of hair slipping over her eyes, half blocking her vision. One hand moved down onto the neck step, her weight shifting, stomach taut as she attempted to crawl down the stairs.
He was waiting for her to fail, a chance to laugh at her, mock her for her actions. She couldn't let that happen. Celeste tensed further, edging down the stairs, her stomach scraping over the edge of the wooden steps. Unnatural. The whole process felt strange, her body almost upside down as she took wary steps down the wide stairs.
Voices filtered into her consciousness, only to be pushed to one side, distractions she couldn't permit herself to be touched by. Her shoulders strained, pain flickering across her back, knees almost slipping as she tried to crawl. Sweat coated her palms, leaving them slippery. Her body threatened to push her down over the wood. There was nothing she could do but keep taking it one step at a time.
He wanted her to fail, but she wasn't going to give him that pleasure.
His steps echoed on the stairs next to her, the grip easing only a little in her hair, enough to give her leeway to work her way down the staircase. One step, the next, she could do it, her patience, the stubborn desire to deny him the chance to laugh or punish her all added to her drive to complete the awkward task. Relief washed over her body as her hands touched the carpeted floor at the bottom of the stairway.
“Good.
It seems you might well have a few small talents that will see you through the early stages of your training, beast. Interesting. I had thought I would have to take the belt to you again for failing, or baulking at the task.” The grip tightened on her hair, forcing her head upward, an arch into her back. “Now, keep your head up, put a soft sway into those hips. You're mine, be proud of the fact. A sultry, sensual beast is what you will become. I don't expect miracles on that, but I do expect you to at least try to please me.”
Please him? She'd be far more willing to take a knife and thrust it into his heart. She hadn't done this to please him, but to avoid being hurt, so he couldn't punish or deride her again.— at least for a short time.
Lights flickered along the paneled wood walls. Candles flickered from small alcoves and candlesticks, enough to cast small pools of light over the floor. So many candles, far more than most homes used. There would be oil lamps elsewhere, she was certain. Even the smallest of farms had at least one oil lamp. A house like this would have access to dozens.
She tried to focus on other things, than crawled naked at the side of the man who treated her like a beast, but it didn't work.
“Ah, Davien. I wasn't sure you'd be coming down this early.” Lord Brian's voice carried easily. “But it seems as though the wench has learned at least a basic lesson at your hands, if those welts are anything to go by.”
Celeste barely had time to bite back the growl that bubbled into life. Her gaze fixed on the other man's ankles. The desire to sink her teeth into them took every ounce of self control she still laid claim to.
“The first of many lessons to come. By the time I have this pretty little bitch trained, she'll be willing to do anything I tell her to and more just to gain the glimpse of a smile. She's quite the intelligent one, worked out how she needed to take it slow down those stairs, didn't slip once. The stubborn streak will no doubt bring a few corrections her way as the days progress,” Davien explained, following the other man into the wide and well lit dining room. Warmth, light, the smell of good food. She was hungry and only now remembered just how long it had been since she had been able to grab something to eat. Normally she stopped to eat during the market, but Donald had managed to work her temper up enough that she'd left rather than linger in the village.
A beast, he'd made it clear that she was, for now at least, a pet that would eat in the manner of a dog or cat. The thought left her angry, but she wasn't about to ignore the food if she was given the chance to eat.
“Women flock to you, old man. I've never understood why you prefer to take those that are unwilling instead of the type that would happily submit to you.” Brian settled down at the table, Davien following suit as he pulled Celeste to her hands and knees at the side of his chair.
“Kneel little bitch, the same way I told you to up in the bedroom.” She paled, easing to her knees, thighs parting a little as she felt the grip in her hair finally released. That seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment. “I have my reasons,” Davien continued. “The unwilling can prove to be a delight to work with. Once they are broken, their submission is a thousand times deeper than that of a woman who comes to me willingly.”
“How so?” Brian nodded to the servants as they moved through the room, setting down plates, filling glasses and dishing out the rich smelling meat for the two men.
“A dish for my pet,” Davien instructed the maid.
“Yes, sir.” She quickly set down an empty bowl in front of Celeste before hurrying away. Did she fear that lingering would put her in the same position as the naked and welted woman?
“You were saying?”
“Ah, yes. Well, when a woman submits to me of her own free will she does so with conditions, reservations.” Davien dropped a small piece of meat into the empty dish. “She tries to hold back a part of herself, often the greatest part. She refuses to obey unless it is something she wants to do. In fact, she almost becomes the master.”
She listened, though her body craved the food, Celeste made no move to eat it just yet. How could a man like that ever be happy with a woman unless he owned her completely?
“I see, I suppose that makes sense, but wouldn't the willing be easier to coax into darker delights? That little slut is going to fight you tooth and nail,” Brian commented, taking a long drink from a slender glass.
Slut? She wasn't a slut. Until Davien, no man had ever seen her naked.
“Yes, she will, and her body will come to crave the delights I offer her. She's never known any other form of touch, but for one little kiss. From the Raven of all men.”
Laughter filled the room, both men doing nothing to hide their amusement at what had been a moment of pleasure for the kneeling woman.
“Oh my, well, then you have an innocent. The Raven you say. Rumor has it he's kissed or bedded half the women in the area. Most of them certainly lust after him. Not sure what it is with these foolish women, they get the chance of a good man and they'd rather be dreaming of some scoundrel who sinks to stealing from decent folk.”
Decent? Had he been at the sherry before they'd joined him for dinner? How could they be decent?
“That's women for you, they make no sense at all. It's why I won't ever make the mistake of falling in love with one of the damnable creatures.” Davien announced, his gaze moving to the untouched food in her bowl. “Eat beast. I need you fit and healthy for the trip tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? So soon? I had hoped you would stay for the hunt tomorrow.”
“No. I have other matters I need to take care of, and the trip back to England can take some time. She will need to be boxed, drugged would be best. Better to avoid unwanted questions from the King's men.”
Her jaw clenched, but she lowered her head to the bowl, teeth closing on the shred of meat. Not much, but it would help, or so she thought. Fluids, her body craved them— and she'd have other needs soon enough. Ones that would require a privacy she doubted Davien would grant her.
“Hm, you have something that will work for you? A box I mean?”
“The chest I have with me, I often carry it. It should work, but I will need something to help keep her drugged for the trip.”
“I have some poppy juice, that should do the trick. You just need to be careful how much you give her.”
She'd heard, if only in passing, of the strange juice they spoke of, and of it being dangerous. A way women sometimes ended up in whore houses, but she'd been told it was rare and surely it couldn't be used here.
“Yes, I know how to use it. Thank you, I had wondered what to do with her. A few days, careful usage. I shouldn't need to dose her until we are due to board the ship, and that is but a short trip.” She could hear the thought in his voice, the hesitation between some of the words. “I would not want her to become addicted to the juice.”
“Why ever not old man?”
“Because it would dull her senses and leave her a slave to the juice. I wish her to belong to me, not some drug,” Davien growled. “You might like your sluts drugged, lost in a cloud of poppy haze, but I wish them awake, aware and fearful of the pain I can offer them, needing it, torn between their desire and fear every time I come into view.”
Her stomach lurched, she didn't know if she should be afraid or grateful by his words. The poppy juice might well have helped her survive the life she now faced. Instead she'd be granted no shield from his abuse, no blanket of numb warmth to wrap herself in, unless she formed one of her own.
“It will be interesting to see how she turns out with her training.” Brian mused, looking over the kneeling woman. “Are you planning on doing much with her tonight?”
“A little, though just a basic usage. I see no reason in waiting until we are back in England before I take the little slut.” Davien dropped another piece of meat and a slice of potato into the waiting dish.
Take her? He meant to, oh god, she wasn't ready to face that just yet. It would come though, no matter what she wanted or felt she was ready for. He wasn't about
to just sit back and wait for her to give him a come hither look.
“I think you caught her off guard about that.”
“Perhaps so, but she had to be aware I was going to use her, or perhaps she assumed a spanking and a light touch of the belt was all I had in mind for the night.”
She could still feel the welts burning a path across her ass, lines of fire she had no way of ignoring. They'd fade in time, or so she hoped. Not that much time either. By the time they arrived in England she'd be healed from them. If he didn't try and treat her to another set of welts. That would depend on what she did, or didn't do to annoy him.
Her throat dried out as she lowered to pick up the piece of meat, chewing it slowly. What was she going to be put through?
A rape. She could live through that, couldn't she?
“And what if you do it to her here?”
No, she wanted to scream the word at him. It wouldn't have worked though. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it from her, no matter what she thought of it.
“An interesting thought, after dinner though,” a new slice of potato smacked into the waiting bowl, barely missing her nose. “And I need a new bowl for her, one with some water in it. I don't like the idea of my beast becoming sick due to lack of basic care.”
Strange man. He thought nothing of treating her like an animal, discussing raping her in front of witnesses, or beating her ass until it was covered with welts, yet he seemed to actually care for her health. What sort of man was he?
A small bowl of water slid under her face, the maid hurrying back out of reach before she could catch Davien's attention. Not that Celeste blamed her, and though she hoped the young woman would alert her father, or those of the village, she already knew the odds of that happening were slim. Why risk her health, her life, and possibly the only source of income the woman's family might have for the sake of a stranger?
Would it be a risk she'd have taken?
Her fingers curled into the carpet, a soft shudder working through her body. She wanted more than anything to believe she would have had the strength and courage to raise the alarm, but putting herself in the other woman's position only made her realize one thing. The life, the world she had known, lacked any form of safety. She wouldn't have risked her family for a stranger, not unless she had been able to find a way to help without putting them in danger.
