'Do you always treat your servants this way?' she snorted, deftly bringing her legs together.
'It's part of your duties,' he explained, and thumped her hard between the shoulder blades.
Olivia, temporarily winded, felt her legs being opened again, this time at the thighs, where his strong hands pulled them open and then fumbled with his weapon for a fresh attack.
'Now keep still, or so help me I'll knock your teeth out.'
Olivia wondered how he hoped to achieve that with her head hanging over the timber, but nevertheless the threat was very frightening and very real. She was on the verge of being raped, that much was clear.
'Please don't,' she sobbed. 'It's not true, I haven't had hundreds of cocks.' She said that without thinking and suddenly blushed scarlet. 'I haven't had one,' she added softly.
'You mean, you're a virgin?' he gasped, pulling her off the timber and wheeling her round.
Her blush had turned almost purple. 'Yes I'm a virgin.'
'Now that is rare these days, I must say.' He thought for a moment and glanced around the workshop. 'What about sucking? Have you ever done that?'
'Oh, lots of times.'
His voice rose to an excited crescendo. 'You have?'
'Well of course. Lollipops and bull's-eyes and—'
He slapped her breast. 'Play any more of these silly games and I will knock your teeth out.'
'Well what do you mean?!' she snapped back, surprised at her own daring.
'This, you stupid girl,' and so saying he forced her to her knees.
'Oh, my God, surely you can't want me to—'
His hands rammed her face into his bulging breeches and held it there until she thought she would suffocate. Then he took it away and lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. 'Stay on your knees,' he told her, creeping across the room and bolting the door. His erection poked ridiculously from his open breeches. Olivia lowered her eyes in despair.
On the way back he snatched up a length of twine, and going behind her, took hold of her wrists and crossed them over her rump. His fingers moved with amazing dexterity and in a trice Olivia's hands were firmly tied. Just in case she had it in mind to up and run and go yelling around the workshop he tied her ankles into the bargain.
'Now,' he said gravely, 'either open your mouth, or I'll beat the living daylights out of you.'
Olivia watched him take up a stout piece of timber as thick as her arm and wave it menacingly over her head. One blow from that and she'd be rendered unconscious, and then God knows what would happen. She was quite sure she'd come round nailed up in a coffin and being transported to the nearest churchyard.
'I'll do it because you're forcing me to,' she sobbed, 'but don't go blaming me if, in a fit of despair, I bite it off.'
Henry considered that possibility. It had almost happened before with a young and inexperienced filly who had got overexcited and gnashed her teeth. The memory was still painful and he'd had great difficulty in explaining to Charlotte why he kept it hidden for several weeks. He couldn't risk that again. There was nothing for it, the girl from the parish would have to be broken in gently - a little at a time.
'Very well,' he grumbled. 'Just for now I'll let you lick it, but mind you do it well or you'll spend the night in a place not to your liking.'
Olivia, thankful her threat had worked, stuck out her tongue.
'I said lick it, like you do your lollipops.' He laughed at that and shoved the swollen end of his member against her lips.
Olivia swept her tongue up and down and found, to her great relief, that it wasn't as bad as she feared. There was a taste of sorts; a salty, musty smell that wasn't entirely disagreeable.
'Now the plum,' he said, nudging gently forward, daring to rest it on her pouting lower lip.
She didn't jolt away as he thought she might but licked a little harder than before, seemingly exploring the deep groove at its base and lashing against the shiny sides. Then without being told, she went back down the shaft, angling her head from one side to the other, covering him with saliva.
'You could try licking those,' he suggested, when her tongue inadvertently flicked against his fruits.
She took a deep breath and, after letting it out again, wiggled the tip of her tongue through his wiry hair, flitting to and fro, this way and that, an action that sent blood racing into his member. Olivia withdrew and looked up at him, wide-eyed and pleading.
'May I stop now, please? I've done what you asked.'
Henry was bursting to release himself and the temptation to put it straight into her mouth was overwhelming. But time was on his side; there was no need to hurry. He untied her wrists and took hold of her trembling hand.
'What do I have to do now?' she asked, feeling him close it around the pulsating shaft.
'Give it a jolly good rub,' he said, as if instructing her to polish the top of a coffin.
Olivia took him at his word and rubbed like a Trojan. Suddenly it went enormously rigid and very hot. Henry swayed on his heels, let out a grunt as if he'd been stabbed, and squirted directly into her face. It went everywhere, spattering her cheeks and lips, and splashing into her eyes and hair. She jolted backwards and caught another dose on her chest. In stunned silence she felt it trickle between her breasts. A drop of the foul stuff had landed on her left nipple and hung there like a huge white tear. Then it plopped sadly onto her stomach.
Olivia, almost as if in a dream, scooped it up with the tip of her forefinger and licked it. A flash of recognition went across her face.
'The governor,' she murmured, 'it tastes like the governor.' And she went on staring at it with the intensity of a child.
Henry fastened his breeches and stared back in return, his face a mask of anger. 'You lied to me,' he exclaimed. 'You said you've never sucked a man before, and if you've lied about that, you must have lied about everything else.'
'I haven't lied,' Olivia retorted. 'It was the governor, he...'
Her voice trailed away. How could she explain that the governor had rubbed his thing against her thigh and, more poignantly, she had permitted him to do it? How would it sound if she admitted being confined in the infirmary for supposedly trying to expose his thing? Who would believe her if she said that all this had been the result of trickery and deceit?
'You were saying?'
'Nothing,' Olivia sulked.
'So you are a liar.'
'Yes... I am a liar. But there is something I must explain—'
'I'm going to punish you,' interrupted Henry.
But whatever he was going to add was cut short by an angry rattle of the door bolts. Henry cut the twine around Olivia's ankle and went to answer it.
'What's been going on in here?' hissed Charlotte, her flashing eyes glaring at Olivia.
'She's to spend the night lashed to the pump,' he said quickly, knowing how much that would please Charlotte.
'And richly deserved, no doubt,' Charlotte rejoined without asking the reason.
Then, much to Olivia's disgust, she fell on her knees in front of him and kissed his bulging breeches, her stupid face a picture of simpering and grovelling worship.
'Did that dirty slut vex you, my darling?' she whimpered, gazing upwards with wide, evil eyes.
Henry kicked her away and ordered Olivia into the yard.
'What you need is a damn good thrashing,' he said, much for the benefit of Mrs Reynolds coming out of her kitchen.
'See that she gets it,' said the old woman, still convinced that buying Olivia for a sovereign in return for nothing less then a slave was tantamount to daylight robbery.
Olivia, outnumbered and weak from near starvation in the infirmary, had little choice but to step into the trough and reach up for the handle. Henry used Charlotte's shawl to bind her wrists by tearing it into strips. Charlotte considered it a great honour that her lord and master should treat her garment with such contempt.
'Fetch a switch,' he said, and Charlotte bolted into one of the outhouses and came back with
a bunch of twigs.
She lifted her skirt, rolled down one her stockings that had cost her a fortune in the city, and handed it to Henry, who snagged it around the twigs, forming a makeshift handle. It wasn't as satisfactory as he would have liked, so Charlotte rolled down the other stocking and handed it to him, her eyes in tears of gratitude.
Henry stepped to one side of the trough and let fly, but the twigs merely broke in half and splintered across the flags.
'Damn!' he cursed, hurling the rest onto a midden.
'Now look what you've done,' exclaimed Charlotte to Olivia. 'Wasted the master's time in tying up all those twigs,' and she leapt up and boxed her in the ear.
For one whose physique closely resembled that of a serpent she possessed considerable strength, especially when she wanted to impress her lord, and she nearly knocked off Olivia's head. Olivia, still dazed, felt a searing pain slash across her bare bottom. She staggered sideways, tripped over the edge of the trough, and hung with her knees on the ground and her arms still tied to the handle above.
'Pull her upright!' Henry yelled at Charlotte, who rushed to the farthest extreme of the handle and jerked it downwards.
Olivia was whisked off her feet and left swaying to and fro, her toes bumping into the edge of the trough every time they passed over it.
'Forty strokes, that's your due,' Henry announced, trying to sound like a magistrate.
Charlotte beamed at him with pride and seated herself on the handle to keep it there.
Henry's own belt, which he had withdrawn from his breeches, was fitted with brass studs at regular intervals and he was careful to ensure it was those that ripped into Olivia's back. He began at her shoulders, landing it with an almighty crack that scattered a flock of pigeons from the roof. It did indeed sound like a gunshot and Olivia, thinking she had been hit with a host of musket balls, screamed aloud. Her legs thrashed outwards and as quickly returned, smacking the bones of her ankles together, which brought forth a heartrending cry of agony.
But Henry whipped on, encouraged by Charlotte who heaped mountains of praise upon his head; proclaiming his great strength and manliness as he whipped all the way down Olivia's back. Olivia shrieked and screamed, tugging at her bonds, head thrown back and mouth open in shock and pain. When he reached her waist he stopped for rest and ordered Charlotte to fetch him a bottle. She leapt off the handle and Olivia hit the trough with a loud smack of her bottom.
With Charlotte temporarily out of the way he bent low and whispered in Olivia's ear. But despite the offer of putting an end to her sufferings she would not consent to having his thing in her mouth, or up her bottom, or anywhere else for that matter.
'Very well, then I shall pepper your bottom,' he promised, and seeing Charlotte scurrying out of the kitchen, he stood up and took the bottle she brought.
He was about to send it winging into the midden but thought better of it, and carefully placed it on the ground, well out of harms way. Charlotte jumped onto the handle and Olivia whizzed into the air again. Henry gave her no quarter, and Olivia shrieked and yelped her miserable way through two dozen more landing with monotonous regularity on the fat of her buttocks. A quick refreshment from a stream of water dribbling from the pump and he began again, curling the studs and leather around her thrashing thighs.
While all this was going on Olivia suffered the appalling countenance of Charlotte's face, which looked with pure hatred and malice at her sobbing eyes, but every now and then broke into a wolfish grin of satisfaction as the belt left its fearful marks. Occasionally she glanced at Henry with adoration, but mostly she looked at Olivia, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
Olivia's ordeal was far from complete, for Henry had returned to her bottom and was trying very assiduously to catch her under her legs at the moment they opened, which pleased Charlotte mightily. He managed to strike her there, but in the main she was too quick for him, and he soon abandoned the idea and went instead to her ribcage. That, he found, was much easier, and in no time at all the belt lashed round her protruding ribs and just caught the outward swell of her breasts. The howl that Olivia let forth persuaded him it was worthwhile continuing in that quarter, and he moved round the trough to better his aim.
Whether by accident or design, his aim was indeed perfect, for the furthest range of studs cut splendidly upwards under the swell of her breasts, lifting them and making them wobble, which had Charlotte rocking on the handle and laughing like a lunatic. Olivia did not share her humour, for the studs were now landing where she most dreaded.
Ten times over he struck each teat, and ten times over Olivia screamed as if her soul were entering purgatory, which at every renewed blow she undoubtedly was. Her legs had stopped thrashing and hung lifeless, apart from a twitching in her thighs which Henry found most arousing, so much so, he decided to end her flogging there and then.
Charlotte climbed reluctantly off the handle and Olivia fell in a crumpled heap into the trough. Her legs had unwittingly fallen open and Henry, anxious for her revival, instructed Charlotte to ply the handle.
'Why not leave the bitch where she is?' Charlotte suggested.
'Because I don't like to see dumb animals suffer,' he replied seriously.
'How kind you are, Henry. That's you all over - so considerate, so thoughtful, and so generous.' And with that she spitefully showered Olivia, freezing her to the marrow.
They left her there, naked and tied to the pump handle, while supper was served in the kitchen, a dish of tripe and onions, whose delicious aroma drifted into Olivia's nostrils. It was hunger that made her struggle, trying to wrench free from her bonds. Her shivering body twisted back and forth, which only served to exacerbate the problem, for the strips of silk had wound tighter. She lay in the trough, panting from the exertion, giving up the struggle and resigning herself to a freezing night under the stars.
Henry, however, had other ideas concerning Olivia's welfare. He was getting heartily tired with Charlotte's simpering compliance. There was nothing to look forward to any more. Whatever he wanted she gave, which lessened the excitement and made him bored with life in general. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, he betook him to the city and squandered the profits of the business in taverns and with the ladies who resided there. But that wasn't very often, and besides, Charlotte always insisted on accompanying him, which greatly added to his frustrations. He might well have abandoned the business altogether were it not for the unexpected and glorious arrival of Olivia.
In the early hours of the morning, when it is darkest and at its most deserted, he stole from his bed and crept across the yard. Olivia had fallen asleep in the trough, gone into a deep slumber, worn out with abuse and fatigue. The moon was not quite full, but light enough to illuminate her body, and it seemed to him, in a flight of fancy, that she resembled a figure not of flesh and blood, but of white marble translucent in all its magnificent shapes and contours. Her legs were long and shapely, and her bottom splendidly round. But it was her breasts that fascinated him the most.
In her sleep they gently heaved, the nipples, still erect from the cold, seemed to beckon. As did her mouth, which, slightly open, was irresistible to the ache he felt bulging in his breeches.
Olivia grunted and shook her head at the intruder poking softly between her voluptuous lips. Then, wonder of wonders, her mouth opened further, uttered a faint gasp and took it in.
Henry was beside himself as he squatted, for it was not every night an astonishingly beautiful young woman sucked him in her sleep. Completely unaware of what was taking place, Olivia sucked harder, believing it to be her long awaited victuals. Into her mouth it went, encouraged with a gentle shove of Henry's loins. But mindful of her earlier threat, he allowed her only his plum and held himself in readiness for a speedy withdrawal.
He need not have worried on that account, for Olivia had in her dreams gone back to childhood and was tasting the long forgotten sweetness of strawberry and custard. Henry watched, devastated, as her cheeks fanned
in and out. Her head made a slight bobbing motion as it moved around his plum. He thought it worth his while to nudge just a little deeper, and he slipped further in.
Olivia's throat started a warbling sound and from inside her mouth came the slow ministrations of her tongue. Only with the greatest of difficulty did Henry remain still. How he managed to with a hot, wet tongue furling around his member and soft lips gliding back and forth and sinking gradually down his shaft, amazed even him. To his utter joy she had taken it all, for by now her lower lip was buried in his course pubic hair. She emitted a purr from the depths of her throat and slid back up again. She halted at the plum, grunted and then returned, sucking more generously as she went.
Henry gripped the sides of the trough and shot his bolt just as his shaft was in the deepest, when her lips were on the return stroke and her cheeks hollowed. Olivia gulped, gulped again, and swallowed every drop. She blinked and opened her eyes, staring directly onto the throbbing plum slipping quickly from her parted lips.
'You filthy beast!' she exclaimed. 'How could you? How could you?'
'Quite easily,' he smirked, whipping out a clasp knife and sawing through the shawl.
Olivia's hands dropped lifelessly into her lap, and in the next movement Henry slid his arms under her knees and around her back and carried her off into the storeroom.
'If you've done it once, you can do it again,' he assured her, dumping her bottom on top of the nearest coffin.
One way or another he was determined to make her suck him again, and if she refused she knew well what punishment awaited. He had taken off his breeches and shirt and stood between her open legs, his member level with her breasts.
'I only did that in my sleep,' she whispered sadly, looking at the throbbing stalk and wondering if she really could do it again.
'And there's nothing from preventing you now, is there?'
'You can only take me by force, and if you do I shall cry rape.'
Henry was unused to such threats, and to let her know that he gave her a resounding slap on the side of her face. 'I find it difficult to believe that anyone could possibly rape the likes of you,' he replied, planting his stalk in the cleft of her breasts.
The Instruction of Olivia Page 8
