He smiled. ‘Yes, I know very well what you have an appetite for, young lady, but we shall now see how much of one, shall we not?
‘Submission, Elizabeth; just how much are you prepared to submit?’ He let the question hang in the air for a moment. ‘Go to your room,’ he finally continued, ‘take a long hot bath, then wait for me on your bed, on your hands and knees, with a scarf covering your eyes. Any questions?’
Butterflies were fluttering in her stomach, but she managed to respond, ‘No, sir, no questions.’
‘Good. Off you go, then.’
Filled with dangerous, erotic anticipation, Elizabeth scurried up to her room and found Grace dusting. She ordered her to draw a bath and then to leave, and not to disturb her under any circumstances.
Grace could tell her mistress was in quite a state, and without a word she did as instructed. As soon as she had left Elizabeth took off and carefully hung her clothes in one of her large wardrobes, then sank into the hot water.
It was fragrant with rose scent, one of her favourites, and she attempted to relax in the soothingly hot water. But it was impossible. She knew there was a test coming, a test of her devotion to Lord Michael, and she was determined not to disappoint him.
Lifting herself from the steaming water, she dried herself and dabbed some oil of rose about her body. She ran a brush through her hair, and could not help but recall exactly how that very same brush had been used to spank her. She quivered, and then felt herself grow moist between her thighs from the memory.
She applied a little rouge and lipstick, wanting to look as pretty as she could, then climbed onto her bed to wait. The minutes ticked by, the waiting agony. Then she remembered the scarf, found it quickly, and had just tied it in place when she heard the sound of the door opening. She froze, kneeling on the bed as instructed, praying she’d made it in time.
‘Excellent,’ Lord Michael said. He closed the door and turned the key. He certainly did not want any uninvited interruptions.
Elizabeth gasped as fingers touched her buttocks, and then lightly probed between her sex lips.
‘Hush,’ he said pre-emptively. ‘Don’t speak unless I give you permission.’
She nodded her head, wanting to obey him.
More fingers reached under her, pinching her nipples, which were already stiff from her hours of anticipation. He pinched again, harder, and she winced. Then she felt something cold and hard pressing against them. Whatever it was it grasped like his fingers, but the pinching was more intense and didn’t cease. She felt him move away from her, but the pinching persisted. Whatever he had applied was grasping her nipples of its own accord. A throbbing pain began to permeate her breasts. She’d never felt anything quite like it – pain, but tormenting pleasure also.
‘Listen carefully, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘Do exactly as I tell you. If you hesitate I’ll assume you don’t wish to obey me any further and I shall leave. Is that clear? You may answer me.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she whispered.
‘Good. Now lay your head on the bed and move your hands back, onto your bottom.’
It seemed an odd instruction but she did not hesitate, and immediately did as he asked.
‘Now spread yourself for me. I wish to inspect you.’
A flash of humiliation swept through her. He couldn’t possibly be serious, but then she remembered his warning.
He waited patiently, having already decided to count to three. If she hadn’t done as he’d asked by then, her limits of surrender had been reached. He was silently at ‘two’ when her hands moved, and her sweet anus was revealed to him.
‘What a good girl you are, my dear,’ he mused. ‘I’m very proud of you.’
Elizabeth was completely overwhelmed by the praise, the command, her humiliation, and the depth of her desire to please the severe gentleman.
‘Levels of submission, Elizabeth,’ he stated, and she remembered not to reply. ‘I’m going to touch you there now,’ he told her, knowing she would need a moment to emotionally prepare herself for such an intimate intrusion. As expected, he heard her gasp.
Removing a small jar of lubricant from his pocket he spread the greasy substance on his finger. He rubbed it against her, and then slid his finger just inside her tiny puckered entrance. She was moaning and sighing as he continued to toy with her, then slid his other hand down and began tickling her clit. She couldn’t help herself, and wriggled in response.
‘You’re doing very well, Elizabeth,’ he praised her again. ‘Just sink into the delicious feelings my touch is inducing.’
His words helped, as did the insistent biting at her nipples and his knowledgeable fingers, but she was still overcome by the naughty probing in her bottom.
He could sense her reticence, her continuing confusion and chagrin. ‘Feel, Elizabeth,’ he quietly urged. ‘Do not think, just feel.’
His coaxing was what she needed. Being led meant she was absolved of responsibility, and she began to accept the intrusive finger. The sheer debauchery of the situation was increasingly turning her on, and she ground her bottom back, inviting him to frig her.
‘Ah, sweet Elizabeth,’ he mused. ‘Aren’t you the little strumpet? Tell me what a little strumpet you are.’
Her bubble of joy was growing, becoming larger by the second. ‘I’m your little strumpet, sir,’ she sighed, the admission shooting sexual sparks through her body.
‘Yes, you are,’ he proclaimed, then abruptly withdrew his finger from between her cheeks, and his hand from between her legs. ‘Kneel up, Elizabeth,’ he commanded, ‘and wait.’
She was weak from the experience and took a deep breath, attempting to gather her wits as she heard water running from the taps in the bathroom.
‘You do look particularly lovely,’ he said, returning and brushing a hand across her stomach, then around to her back. He gave her a sharp smack, first on one buttock and then the other.
‘Elizabeth,’ he continued, ‘I smacked you not to punish you, but to get your full attention. You need to listen to me very carefully.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied.
‘I am going to ask you a question, then explain something to you. First, do you know what it means to have a master?’
She thought carefully, wanting to please him with the correct response. ‘Well, my father is the master of this house, and that means the servants have to obey him.’
‘And if I were to be your master it would mean you obeying me, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, feeling a little light-headed, her breasts pulsing from the nipple clamps.
‘But I do not want to be your master unless you crave me to be,’ he stated pointedly, manipulating her emotions. ‘Not unless it is your absolute desire to submit to me, completely and utterly. So, do you want me to be your master, Elizabeth?’
‘Oh, yes sir!’ she cried without hesitation.
‘Well then, we shall have to see if you really mean that, my dear girl. Perhaps one of these days you will have earned that right.’ He moved his hands to her buttocks, pulling them apart, leaning down to kiss her neck. ‘Are you my little strumpet?’ he whispered in her ear.
‘Yes sir, I am your little strumpet.’
‘Then show me what a little strumpet you are.’
He released her and she put her face to the mattress, and placing her hands on her buttocks she spread them apart. He smiled, but didn’t touch her there. Instead he placed his fingers against her clit, and rubbed vigorously until she was whimpering with need.
‘Keep your hands where they are, little strumpet,’ he said, and from a pocket he withdrew a small artificial penis, much smaller than his proud member, but certainly big enough to begin the process of stretching her. He lubricated it well, and then touched it to her tiny entrance. She gasped, tensed, and then relaxed as he slowly pressed. ‘What are you, Elizabeth?’ he asked.
‘Y-your little strumpet… sir,’ she sighed, and then, as if wanting to prove her words, thrust back against
the rude intruder.
As he worked the dildo between her cheeks he busied his fingers between her sex lips, and she accepted it, allowing it to completely invade her tight rear passage. Then holding the flange securely between thumb and finger he knelt behind her on the bed and placed his swollen erection at her pussy entrance. ‘Do not move,’ he ordered quietly but firmly.
She stayed completely still, almost fearing to breathe. The dildo inside her felt powerful, almost overwhelming, but she didn’t feel any pain. A hand caressed her buttocks. It was so difficult not to move or utter a sound. She felt his hardness press between her pussy lips, lodging just inside her, and she felt it against the fullness of the intruder in her bottom. It was an odd but scintillating sensation.
He pushed in further, his cock filling her, and he began to fuck her. His movements were artfully languid, but firm and sure. Her nipples were aching sweetly and she could feel her orgasm growing. All day she had wanted this, all the time they wandered the town, her gloved hand demurely on his arm, she had secretly yearned for this whilst smiling politely at people they passed – people who would have no idea what naughty thoughts were in her head and sensations in her body.
‘You have deserved your release, Elizabeth,’ he said, easing a hand between her legs.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she whimpered, aching for the moment.
‘You may come, my little strumpet,’ he permitted, ‘and move as you wish.’ Taking the flange of the dildo he began to stroke her, keeping the pace slow and firm, deftly in time with his own thrusts. She rocked back to meet him, wanting the feel of everything he was doing, her inhibitions abandoned. The bubble rose and suddenly exploded, and she cried as the spasms shook her. She felt her inner walls pulsate around him and then, just as suddenly, felt his glorious eruption as well.
He stiffened, clutching her hips, riding it out until finally he was spent and his wilting cock slipped from her, sucked completely dry of his manly essence.
She collapsed wearily on her front and he gently withdrew the dildo from between her bottom cheeks. He then went to the bathroom, cleaned up quickly, returned and instructed her to kneel, then removed her blindfold. She was still light-headed and when he told her to hold her breath she was puzzled, but did so, then quickly he removed the silver clamps from her nipples.
‘Good girl, Elizabeth,’ he said warmly. ‘It just helps the pain to hold your breath and prepare for it.’
Her eyes were sparkling and she smiled up at him gratefully.
‘Go and clean up,’ he said, and swatted her rump to get her moving. ‘I’ll be right here when you have done so.’
She was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was take a nap, but dutifully she obeyed.
He stretched out on the bed, savouring the moment. She had done very well indeed. For years he had been searching for that one special female, but though many wanted to call him master, to date he’d found none truly worthy.
Chapter 10
It was lunchtime. The weather was pleasant, the days of persistent rain having passed. Lord Michael had told her he would be busy all morning, so she spent the time riding her mare, albeit cautiously, across the wet fields.
‘The ground will still be muddy in areas, and it’s best to take things slowly for a few days,’ he had warned, so she promised him there would be no fast gallops, and she had every intention of keeping that promise. Now she was sitting at the dining room table, waiting for him to join her for their midday meal.
‘Elizabeth,’ he said when he appeared, ‘I want you to put together an overnight bag. Just a few changes of clothes and what little else you need. The very bare essentials, you understand?’
‘Oh sir, how thrilling!’ she squealed excitedly. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Never you mind where we’re going. You’ll find out soon enough. Be quick now; you’ve thirty minutes, and if you’re not down here ready to go I’ll leave without you.’
‘Yes, sir!’ she exclaimed eagerly, and he chuckled at her infectious enthusiasm.
They were soon on their way, seated in the carriage, moving along the road at quite a clip. Elizabeth could not imagine what he had up his sleeve. How did he gain her father’s consent to take her away somewhere? But then, she didn’t really care. They were off on an adventure, and she could not have been happier.
They didn’t travel very far, just to the railway station, and as they boarded a train headed north, she was thrilled at the thought of going on a journey with Lord Michael. He was carrying her overnight bag, and a steward showed them to their cabin, cramped but cosy. It was the first time she would spend the night on a train, and to do so in Lord Michael’s arms – how simply wonderful and romantic!
The steward left them, and she pulled out the few dresses she had folded into the overnight bag, hoping the creases would fall out by the following morning. Lord Michael poured them a glass of champagne each from a waiting bottle, complements of the railway to their VIP customers, and as she turned to face him he held it towards her.
‘Here you are, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘This little excursion is a treat for your very good behaviour last night. Remember what I told you? Good girls are always rewarded.’
She took the glass, smiling merrily, and they clinked and sipped. A whistle blew and they heard the conductor’s voice calling for the last minute passengers.
‘Let’s sit here by the window and have a look as we pull out, shall we?’ Lord Michael suggested.
‘Yes, sir,’ she beamed. ‘This is all such a lovely surprise. Thank you, so very much.’
He just smiled, and they settled in the chairs at the small table by the window.
The train chugged and rattled, and they watched in comfortable silence as the countryside rolled by, drinking their champagne, enjoying the anticipation of the pending excursion.
Then suddenly, and for no apparent reason, Elizabeth began to giggle.
‘What on earth’s the matter with you?’ he asked. Elizabeth thought the question uproariously funny and burst into fits of laughter, and he realised, while she wasn’t drunk she was quite tipsy, the bubbly champagne having gone straight to her head.
‘Hmmm, enough of this for you I think,’ he decided, removing the champagne glass from her hand.
She nodded in agreement, afraid that if she spoke she would slur her words or break into giggles again, but then the strangest thing happened; she yawned, a long deep yawn.
‘My poor, Elizabeth,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You really cannot cope with too much of this, can you?’
She looked at him a little bleary-eyed, and yawned again. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me,’ she managed. ‘I’m so excited but all of a sudden I can hardly keep my eyes open.’
‘Come, off with your clothes, let’s take a little afternoon rest,’ he suggested. ‘Then we’ll be fresh for dinner, and whatever else the evening brings.’
‘Yes, I’d quite like to lay down,’ she said, completely missing the implication of his innuendo. She stood up, but had to grab the table for support. ‘I do seem to be having a spot of bother,’ she said, and despite her abrupt tiredness, giggled again.
He held her by the arm to steady her. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I’ll help you.’ He undid the buttons at the back of her dress and pulled the garment down off her shoulders. Her milky skin appeared, and he marvelled at its satin sheen.
He turned her around, catching a glimpse of her nipples pressed against the light silk of her petticoat, feeling himself hardening and wanting to have her right there and then. But he led her gently to the narrow bunk and laid her down, stripped quickly, then stretched out alongside her. She snuggled up to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He could smell the fragrance of her hair and skin, and she looked so peaceful and contented. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes, felt the rocking movement of the train, breathed her in one more time, and let himself drift off.
It was quite late, but the dining car was still almost f
ull. They were shown to a table, and Lord Michael immediately ordered a second bottle of champagne. He then studied her in silence for a while.
‘How do you feel, Elizabeth?’ he eventually asked.
She smiled back at him, merriment in her eyes, her cheeks rosy. ‘Fine, sir,’ she said. ‘That rest was just what the doctor ordered. I was feeling quite silly before that.’
He nodded sagely. ‘Champagne will do that to you. Speaking of which…’
The waiter arrived with their glasses and chilled bottle, along with a basket of bread, and once alone again Lord Michael took her hands across the table. ‘Elizabeth, in a minute I am going to sit next to you.’
‘Oh, how nice,’ she replied politely, not really thinking much of it.
‘And put my hand under your dress,’ he continued. She stared at him, not believing what she had just heard.
‘Then I am going to caress your thighs.’ Elizabeth felt herself turning red and nervously looked around the dining car to see if anyone else could hear him.
‘Then slide my hand into your panties, and play with you.’ She swallowed hard, wishing she could grab her champagne glass and take a big swallow, but his hands were still clutching hers.
‘When I feel you are about to climax I will stop, but ultimately you will have your orgasm right here at this table. Just remember, Elizabeth, when I finally allow your release, you must be utterly discreet. After all, we are in a public place.’
She still could not bring herself to speak.
‘Elizabeth, do you understand what I just told you?’
She nodded dumbly, wishing to protest but knowing it was pointless, then without another word he stood and eased onto the seat next to her.
The waiter walked by, and she was sure he could see Lord Michael’s hand moving on her knee, searching for a way into her skirt. Then it disappeared from view and she could feel it on her thigh, just above the tops of her stockings. Despite her angst she felt herself growing wet, and could not help but close her eyes, a tiny gasp escaping her lips. Suddenly she felt a sharp pinch and opened her eyes again, a little shocked at what he’d done.
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