Elizabeth, His Lordship’s Demure Body-Servant. Ten Volume Compilation
Page 12
“But, if it pleases you, Master, I already thought I had accomplished that,” Elizabeth protested. “We have done so much together…” He leaned in and placed his long index finger across her lips silencing her.
“Shush, little one, I know, and we will do so much more together yet. But you are still holding yourself back, roiling with unnecessary guilt and emotions that you have to throw by the wayside if you ever want to achieve the enlightened state of being I can offer you.” His voice was gentle and reasoned in its intonation and made Elizabeth feel loved as his words washed over her. She looked up at him and met his eyes.
A long moment passed as the older man, and the younger girl exchanged a seemingly endless stream of sensual information by merely delving into each other’s eyes.
Lord Dixon drank in the raw beauty of his servant girl. Even though still deeply humiliated, he could see the signs of arousal on the young slut’s face. Elizabeth was pleading with him to spare her what she had cleverly divined was going to be her fate tonight, and yet her cheeks had become flush, and her nostrils were dilating at the mere idea he was going to make her do something bawdy and revealing for his guests. Her eyelids fluttered, and her lips parted and gained color.
Elizabeth looked up at the powerful Lord and knew she would do anything he commanded not only because he was her overLord but also because she felt a deep desire to please the man. Over the last month, he had coldly and methodically molded her into a passion-driven vixen. No, she did not want to embarrass the dominant Lord, who had accepted her into his life, if only as a slave of sorts.
Slowly, imperceptibly almost, with every day that had passed Elizabeth had learned to better accept her new life as body servant to Lord Dixon, who was rapidly becoming her only source of comfort and hope. With a start, she realized that to say she loved him would not do justice to the strength of her feelings. She adored him like a creature worships a God.
Elizabeth was aware that something had passed between them earlier this morning during their delirious coupling. In his eyes, she had seen a human side she knew he kept hidden from others. Now he reached up and cupped her face in the palm of his large hand, and she leaned into it relishing his strength.
“I want you to learn acceptance and surrender, sweet slave,” he said his voice barely audible. She loved the notion of being his sweet slave. The air about them felt electric like a thunderstorm was about to break and blow them to smithereens. “I want you to forget pride and learn humility. Can you do that for me, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, master,” she whispered and then heard herself say, “I will do anything for you.” She blushed and looked down ashamed for she truly meant what she had just said.
She felt his lips tenderly kiss the top of her head. “Lord James Alfred Cunningham is a very good friend of mine. Tonight you will present yourself naked. No, he will not plunder you, not like that. He will bring a guest, a very important man from Japan, the ambassador. His name is Kaito Yamamoto. The ambassador is a close relative of the Emperor of that country and a member of the Heishi noble clan of Japan. You will be the centerpiece of our dinner gathering and participate in an old Japanese custom called Nyotaimori. You will be naked and prepared to lay upon a table covered in nothing but morsels of Oriental food.”
Elizabeth felt her eyes grow big as saucers as she nodded in mindless acquiescence to her master’s explanation. “My butler will have you washed, perfumed and prepared for the event. If you do this for me, you will not only impress us with your resolve, but you will also commence on the first step of your journey into acceptance of who you truly are.” He kissed her once on every cheek and then stood.
“Stand and kneel before me, girl,” the Lord ordered, and Elizabeth scurried to comply. Smoothly, effortlessly, Elizabeth stepped out of the bed, oblivious to the gawking butler and in one fluid motion sank to her knees.
For a minute, both men felt their hearts lurch as they gazed upon the bright-eyed auburn-haired naked beauty kneeling before them. Elizabeth felt her breath catch as she shifted her legs widely apart displaying her unshaved sex. She blushed in spite of herself and placed her hands demurely resting them upon her knees with their palms facing up as she had been taught.
Lord Dixon took a step closer. “Good. From now on, unless instructed otherwise, when you see me for the first time that day or evening, you are to kneel like that. Then, if I offer my left hand, you are to kiss it fervently and look up at me and ask permission to do obeisance. Obeisance simply means reaching up with both hands, and if I am dressed, reveal my manhood, and fervently kiss its head. Then, unless directed otherwise, you are to carefully place it back and zipper my fly shut. Do you understand your instructions, girl?”
Elizabeth felt herself like in a dream. Still she was eager to please. “Yes, master, I understand.”
“Good then, go ahead and do obeisance now.”
***
You can reach up and hold onto the metal hook hanging above your head now, the butler said, his voice reverberating in the cavernous cellar.
Slowly, with trembling fingers, Elizabeth reached up until her fingers brushed up against the harsh cold iron of the meat hook hanging from the ceiling. Last time Reginald had made her do that, he had done terrible things and most horribly she had found her body enjoyed them tremendously. Elizabeth stifled a whimper wondering what would happen to her now.
She could imagine herself the way she appeared to the rough butler as she stood with her arms stretched above her head, her muscles taut, her naked breasts pointing forward begging for attention, her buttocks clenching as her body squirmed in anguish. Her long curly hair, full and heavy, delicate and silken in consistency, fell around her shoulders like a waterfall. Elizabeth realized she was breathing in fast short little breaths now and immediately focused on controlling her anxiety. She didn’t want to faint.
Then she felt it! The scent of her master’s body! Immediately Elizabeth felt herself relax if only a smidge, her heart settling into a more languorous beat. He was here! She was no longer alone with the brute. Elizabeth felt her heart swell with emotions and her courage triple knowing that his Lordship was by her side.
“You are lovely, sweet child,” Lord Dixon’s voice reverberated in her very chest as he spoke. She felt his hand traverse her cheek and then explore downwards. The Lord was yet again taking possession of what was his. He hefted her left breast tenderly as if admiring its size and shape and then did the same with her right. She felt his breath wash over her body and reveled in it. His fingers left her tits and rose again to gently slide along her forehead brushing back her thick bangs. Elizabeth was grateful that she had been given the crude iron hook to hold on as she felt her legs go weak. Her lips were moist and parted as she blinked beneath the blindfold.
“Your perfume is lovely as always,” her master whispered and she felt him leaning in, breathing, his lips brushing along her neck. “Too bad we need to bathe you and remove the natural beauty of your scent before tonight.” She felt his chest push ever so briefly against her quivering nipples. He was naked, and Elizabeth felt the sparks of passion jump like tiny lightning across her skin. Her breasts were so tight and swollen, painfully throbbing with the slightest hint of moving air.
Lord Dixon sighed deeply, and she felt his hand press flat against her chest as he pushed back with obvious reluctance.
“Here is what we will do. Tonight, for a couple of hours, your body will no longer be yours,” Elizabeth felt sparkles of anxiety tingle all across her skin her body. “We will wash you, dry you, and brush your hair, up on your head, but also down there,” Elizabeth felt a gentle tug against her pubic hair. “So that the food that shall be placed upon your body will remain untainted by your flavors. Your quim will then be infused with a mild oriental-style wine that will stay within until one of the guests or myself choose to take a sip.” Elizabeth gasped loudly now.
“My M-maidenhead, my Lord,” she squeaked.
“Shush little one, don’t worry,” the
powerful Lord said quietly. “The liquid we shall place in you is more water than wine and intended mostly for show. People in Japan appear to enjoy drinking from a girl’s purse like that and even have a name for it. Your maidenhead will be preserved and so will your health. I promise.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” the young body servant felt genuinely grateful that her master was going to the trouble to alleviate her trepidations.
“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart,” Lord Dixon said. “I am the one who ought to be grateful to you, little one. You are doing so much more than merely satisfying the perverse desires of a bunch of older men,” he chuckled. “You will be helping this country secure a much-needed contract to expand our influence in the kingdom of Japan. Ambassador Yamamoto, who will be the guest of honor tonight, has a deciding vote on establishing who will secure a contract of paramount importance to her Majesty’s government. However, to be honest with you, my dear, I wouldn’t have even thought of suggesting that we go through with the ceremony, if I didn’t believe it would be instructional in your training as a willing submissive. I will not think less of you, or chastise you in any way, if you choose to shrink away from the task, Elizabeth. Just let me know, and I will have Reginald return you safely to my bed chambers. I can always tell the guests that you fell ill with a cold.” Elizabeth felt her emotions rise and threaten to overwhelm her. Lord Dixon was more than caring, she could feel his deep affection in the way he spoke and this brought tears to her eyes.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, master, thank you, but no. I do want to go through with it. I am so much happier if my small act of submission helps our country.” She smiled. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but Lord Dixon brushed it away with his finger.
“You make me proud, child,” he said. She heard him take a step back and pick something up from the floor. “First, however, as a sign of your devotion and will to submit, you will receive twenty-one strokes of the cane across your front.” This news particularly disconcerted the naked girl. Elizabeth almost broke down in tears but remembered her resolve and managed to restrain herself. Lord Edward Benedict Frederick Dixon waited for her to get accustomed to the idea of what was to follow before he continued.
“This will not only serve as your first chastisement that from now on will become routine before every training session, but it will also help to mark your skin appropriately for tonight. I know that Mr. Yamamoto has a reputation for wanting a certain type of service from his concubines. Your submission to the cane will be sure to impress him immensely. I’m sure he will be surprised to find a beautiful young English girl so willing and able to submit. It is my feeling that rich Oriental men have a very skewed understanding of our womenfolk, and most routinely take them to be spoilt naïve little things, far inferior to their ladies. Tonight you will prove them all wrong. Won’t you, Elizabeth?”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” hiccuped the girl still trying to come to terms with what he had just told her. Elizabeth had never before been beaten in her life. Never, that is, if one didn’t count the three strokes of the butler’s cane that he had delivered across her feet a couple of weeks ago. Those had hurt like high hell. Now Elizabeth failed to imagine how she would be able to take twenty-one of the punishing blows.
“You can do it, sweet Lizzie, I know you can. Reginald will be delivering your thrashing. He has a steady hand and measured stroke. He will space the strikes out so that the red welts from the caning are evenly positioned from your chest all the way down to your knees. If you want him to stop, all you have to say is the word Benedict. As you know, it is my middle name and will serve as your safe word today. Do you understand, Elizabeth?” She felt the Lord’s voice come close to her face as he waited for her reply.
“Yes, my Lord, I understand.” She managed to reply through lips clenched in anguish. Elizabeth realized she was sweating heavily, the snug leather blindfold was already soaked with her tears and perspiration. She almost screamed when she felt the Lord come up behind her outstretched body and press himself snugly up against it. His cock felt hot and resolutely hard as it pushed in between her cheeks. She was more than ready for him there and with a deep shame realized that she was actually looking forward to him plundering her like that. At least that way he would be right here with her helping her on through the storm of pain that she knew was going to follow all too soon.
Lord Dixon’s thick rod spread past her soft cheeks and speared the ring of flesh pushing steadily into her hot tummy. By now Elizabeth had learned to get aroused by the presence of her master’s tumescence in her butt. The skin around her tight ring felt energized by the presence of his hot tool, and she felt her passion begin to rise as she squeezed her buttocks forcing her muscles to tighten around the Lord’s manhood. It felt strange to be standing in the middle of a cold, damp cellar, naked and on edge, holding on to a steel hook hanging from the ceiling, while one man pressed himself tightly up against her back, his cock snugly embedded in her ass, while another man was about to cane her titties. Elizabeth gave up trying to understand how or why fate had arranged her to end up in that situation. Instead, she resigned herself to the moment and set her mind on riding it out and making most of the experience.
She heard a whooshing sound and gasped. The butler was standing close in front of her, whipping back and forth through the air the stick that was soon going to punish her soft young flesh.
“You need to count out loud for me,” the rough man said. “Start from one. If you don’t count out loud my strokes, they will not count.” Before Elizabeth had a chance to acknowledge his instruction, her mind was split in two by the first shuddering blow.
Slap!
“One, sir!” She squeaked.
The thick cock up her ass pulsed as it lay snugly embedded in her abdomen. Elizabeth whimpered softly feeling Lord Dixon’s long finger worm itself between their thighs and come to frill gently across her outer lips from bellow.
Slap!
“Two, sir!” Her hips began to roll lewdly as her sexual buildup gained strength. Her master moved in her belly, his fingers gently caressing her quivering lips below. He kissed the top of her head. “My strong, little girl.”
The first strikes had landed a couple of inches below her collarbone. The cane descended again drawing a cry of pain and denial from Elizabeth as it chastised the flesh where her young quivering breasts began their steep slopes. Slap!
“Three, sir!” Her hips were rolling as if taken with a life of their own, while her mind took a leave of absence, her body subsumed by pure lust and maddened by the powerful intensity of pain and pleasure dancing with each other.
Slap! The universe ceased to exist for a split second and then blinked back into agonizing focus as the pain across her breasts registered. Elizabeth lost all coherent thought.
Slap! Pain turned to agony that turned to fire as the cane fell exactly where it had landed just seconds before.
“I didn’t hear you count, girl!” Hissed the butler. God! Elizabeth felt panic-stricken for a moment trying to remember how far along they had come. Was it three or six or ten strokes? Oh God, please!
“Four, sir!” She screamed. When the cane landed one inch lower along her breasts, and an inch above her areolae, Elizabeth actually felt grateful that she had gotten it right.
When the infernal instrument sliced across her nipples, Elizabeth was certain she would have fainted except that somehow, her soul felt to be drawing strength from her master’s giant steel hardness that quivered all the way up in the center of her body.
And so it went, Reginald slowly leveling one strike after another, in measured succession, each one an inch below the one before it. He didn’t hurry. Not one bit. He seemed to wait a full minute before every subsequent descent of the cane. By now it felt like a team effort, everybody doing their share to aid in her experience: The sadistic butler with his infernal cane, her master and his glorious cock, Elizabeth, and her voluptuous body.
By the time they reached ten, she was
afraid she was going to hyperventilate. Every time he struck her, it made her breasts jiggle back and forth causing her injured nipples to tingle with a bittersweet sensation, unlike anything she had never felt before.
By the time they made it to fifteen, Elizabeth felt herself burning with embarrassment at the realization that her insides were actually milking the Lord’s cock without him having to move even an inch! Elizabeth found her mind drift as she imagined herself taking the place of the men using her. She felt their pleasure and pride fill her heart with strength and resolve. The cane felt glorious, an instrument of fate molding the girl into an object of pleasure for everyone, even herself.
Slap!
“Twenty-one, sir!” The end!
Elizabeth squeaked and felt her orgasm blast across her body in time to her master’s cock which spewed its essence deep into her belly. Her hands held the heavy iron hook that vibrated and jingled obscenely in the dark, damp cellar.
“Gawwwwd!” She screamed her toes curling against the hard flagstones covered with her dripping juices as she struggled to maintain her foothold.
Her legs felt rubbery as she relaxed back against Lord Dixon, who helped her gently down to the floor. Panting weekly and still whimpering and sniffling, Elizabeth made herself into a heap of hot flesh – – raw and striped with lines of pink and red crisscrossing her in even intervals across her breasts belly and thighs. She felt them as lines of heat and pain, yet the sensations were dulling rapidly, morphing into a source of pride and sexual heat fanned by the incredible intensity of the arousal roiling through her mind and body.