My Lord and Master
Page 3
“N-nothing, My Lordship,” she stammered, turning her timid gaze now to the floor at his feet, feeling her cheeks beginning to burn with shame.
“Take. Off. Your. Clothes,” he repeated, spelling out each word with such a cold certainty, Angelica felt herself shiver with fear.
And this time, she did just as she was told, pulling the simple cotton petticoat up and over her head, then letting it fall to the floor, leaving her shivering there in just her silk bloomers, covering her small breasts with her arms. Another timid glance at the Lord told her she was to take her bloomers off, too.
She felt her shame increase as she took her hands away from her breasts to push down her bloomers, revealing her small tender breasts with their tiny little nipples, standing to attention, perhaps from the cool air in this room, or perhaps from something else; from the hungry, animal gaze of Lord Sutherland, watching her with such intensity it caused a shiver to run right through her.
Angelica gulped as she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her bloomers then slowly slid them down over her skinny thighs, revealing the thick red bush of hair that grew between her legs – that no man had ever seen before, not even William, the butchers’ son, when he’d hurriedly stuffed his hand beneath her skirts.
She let the bloomers fall around her ankles then timidly stepped out of them. Finally she let herself stand there, arms by her sides, before her master, feeling his black burning eyes scrutinising every inch of her pale, goose-bumped flesh.
At first, Angelica was so ashamed she kept her own eyes fixed firmly on the patch of floor between Lord Sutherland’s feet, but a quick curious glance upwards sent a shockwave of surprise through her. Because there between his legs, which were spread wide apart, Angelica realised that there was such a large and prominent bulge – right where his sex must be – that her naked body must be having some kind of effect on him, despite his icy cold and business-like demeanour. And a little part of her, Angelica realised, was pleased about this.
“Very good,” he said, his voice just as cold and matter-of-fact as before, betraying nothing of his own desires, his prominent manhood at odds with his icy exterior. “Now, turn around.”
Angelica began to turn, but before she had even taken more than a few steps, the Lord’s voice rang out once more in the plush purple chamber.
“Slower.”
She slowed right down, turning her body nervously, feeling him take her in from all angles. And when she had her back to him, her eyes fixed upon that heavy wooden door at the other side of the room, she heard him command, “Stop there.”
Angelica did as she was told, feeling his eyes upon her rump now, which was surprisingly large and fleshy for such a skinny girl as she. It was a feature that had often caused interest in her from men back at the market place.
“Now bend over,” came the cold voice from behind her.
Angelica took a deep breath, then did as she was told, feeling the shame burning in her cheeks as she felt herself exposing her most tender and private parts to this demanding stranger.
But despite her overwhelming embarrassment at the idea of his eyes upon her most intimate areas, at the same time, another part of Angelica felt her body pulsing with a kind of curious thrill, as if all her nerves were crackling with fire. Most of all she could feel it in the sensitive buds of her nipples and in the intense throbbing ache of her womanhood, almost like a kind of pain. How strange that she could be made to feel this way, without even being touched!
“Very good,” the voice came finally from behind her. “You can stand again now. Turn around and come here, to me.”
As before, Angelica did as she was told, turning and approaching the Lord, who was still sitting as before in his chair, his legs spread wide apart. And another timid glance told Angelica that if anything, he’d grown even larger down there, the full shape of his manhood now extremely clear against the tailored cloth of his trousers. It seemed positively gigantic to Angelica, almost as big as her forearm, and she quickly tore her eyes from it, only to look directly into his, causing another shockwave to flash through her at the sheer animal intensity of his expression.
“Come here girl,” he said, somewhat angrily, commanding her to step even closer towards him.
So she stepped right up to him, her pert little breasts now only inches from his face, her hard nipples so close to his thick sensuous lips that when he next spoke, the heat of his breath danced like fire across her sensitive flesh, causing her puckered little buds of flesh to ache even more sweetly.
“Tell me, Angelica,” he began, so slow, so deliberate. “Have you ever been with a man?”
Angelica felt her mind flashing back to that incident once again with William the butcher’s son: how he’d stuffed his hand roughly up her skirts, working his fingers inside her, but causing her more pain than anything else, so different than what she’d hoped for when she first agreed to their fumble.
Deciding to keep this little incident to herself, Angelica shook her head.
At this, a strange expression came over Lord Sutherland’s face, the eyebrow above his left eye raising slowly, and his thick sensuous lips curling into a curious smile.
“Is that so?”
Again Angelica nodded, feeling his cold gaze piercing her, working its way right inside her, almost as if he could read the contents of her mind.
“If you are lying to me, girl, know that I will not hesitate to punish you,” he hissed.
And at the word punish, Angelica’s gaze flitted over to the many strange instruments that seemed to line the walls of this odd purple room – the crops and whips and leather-strapped contraptions that all suddenly seemed to make sense to her. For that was what they were for: they were for her punishment. A shiver of fear ran through her at the sudden realization.
“You’re not lying now, are you?” he said when he noticed her fear.
Again, Angelica shook her head, her mouth seemingly sealed shut with nervous tension.
“And if I were to inspect you, I’d find that pretty little cunny of yours still fully in tact?” he added, coldly and firmly.
Angelica paused, then opened her mouth to speak. “Aye, my Lordship. Although I have heard instances when a girl might have accidentally damaged herself there without actually ...
“Silence,” Lord Sutherland cut in, his voice ringing out around the room.
Angelica fell quiet, her heart pounding.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, his gaze now fixed on that tender secret place between Angelica’s skinny, milk-white thighs.
Angelica did as she was told, spreading her legs before him, watching with a mixture of horror and disbelief as he actually began to move his hand towards her, palm up, hot fingers slipping right between her legs.
Angelica gasped as she felt his touch, right there at the centre of her. He paused for a moment, his middle finger resting gently against the swollen tender entrance to her womanhood, which seemed to be throbbing so hard he must be able to feel it.
“Keep still,” he hissed, as slowly but firmly he slid a finger so easily inside her, her body seemingly turning to liquid, melting beneath his touch in a way Angelica had never quite known before.
Again, she gasped, shuddering, her hips bucking a little, completely outside her own control, as the lord worked his thick middle digit even further and deeper inside her tight little hole.
“I said, keep still,” he commanded, angrily.
Angelica tried to speak, but another motion of his finger, this time sliding back out a little way then pushing up again inside her, knocked all the air from her lungs and all thoughts from her head, sending her into a whirl of pleasure, her mind flashing white from the sheer intensity of Lord Sutherland’s touch right there within her. It was as if his finger were a key and he knew just how to unlock some deep hidden pleasure within her body, for with each fresh movement of his finger inside her, Angelica felt a new, ever more intense, ever more delicious thrill building within her, starting lik
e a swarm in her stomach and then flashing and radiating outwards, out around her limbs.
Next, Lord Sutherland worked a second finger inside her too, stretching her even wider, eliciting fresh gasps from her lips, her knees trembling and her hips bucking involuntarily as she gave herself up to his fingers, which were now plunging in a steady rhythm in and out of her sex, becoming so shiny and slick with her fluids. And as much as she was able, Angelica tried to remain still as the Lord coaxed these sensations out from within her, but she knew – they both knew – just how impossible that was.
And the lord no longer seemed to mind her movements either, as he worked her to a shivering frenzy with his fingers, his own throbbing manhood so hard and prominent, straining against the cotton of his trousers, as if about to burst free at any moment.
Angelica wished she could grab it in her slender fingers, wished that she too could bring the lord a similar pleasure with her hands, but she remained dutifully with her arms by her sides, her legs spread wide, as he worked her sex expertly with his fingers, bringing the thumb of his other hand now to the sensitive little button of flesh at the very top of her womanhood, which was poking out now from beneath its pink hood of flesh, so stiff and throbbing, yearning to be touched.
And he only needed to touch this nub a few times before it all became too much for poor Angelica, and with a shudder and a whimper, she felt her mind flash white once again and her sex clench hard and tight around his fingers, her hips and belly bucking outside of her own control.
And then, to her surprise, she heard a great spattering wetness on the plush purple carpet beneath her and she opened her eyes in horror, looking down between her legs in dismay to see that she seemed to be spurting forth a clear fluid that positively gushed and spattered out around the lord’s fingers as he worked fresh trembles from her young trembling body.
“Oh, my lordship,” she began, her cheeks burning with shame as she saw how much of a mess she’d created, soaking and spattering not only the floor around his feet but darkening his trousers, too, and the cuff of his beautiful shirt with her fluids, “I’m so sorry, My Lordship. Whatever have I done?”
But to Angelica’s surprise, Lord Sutherland seemed actually pleased by this strange occurrence. His mouth had curled in a smile, his eyes were sparkling with glee, and another quick glance between his legs told Angelica that it had in no way caused him any disposition towards her.
Her own body was still trembling from the sheer force of her pleasure; never before had she felt something like that, and already she could feel herself craving it again, wanting more, ever more from him.
“Very good, Angelica,” he said, examining his dripping fingers, the smile still dancing on his lips. “Very good, indeed. That will be all for tonight. You may pick up your clothes and leave me in peace.”
“Yes, My Lordship,” Angelica replied quietly, doing exactly as she was told.
Angelica returned to her room and collapsed in a heap onto the crisp white sheets of her new bed, her whole body still trembling and her mind spinning in confusion.
What in the world had just happened? Was she really to be Lord Sutherland’s private whore? Was that the arrangement her father had made with him? Or was this strange new turn of events something private between Lord Sutherland and Angelica, perhaps leading to a more traditional end ...
At this new thought, Angelica couldn’t help but smile. Of course, she knew that the idea of a romance between a young woman of low station such as she and a distinguished Lord was totally and utterly preposterous, but still, hadn’t she seen with her own eyes the way Lord Sutherland’s body had responded to the sight and feel of her own? It felt as if the image of his manhood, pressing so urgently to break free from his trousers, would be printed indelibly into Angelica’s young mind for all eternity.
She made herself a little more comfortable on her bed, feeling once again her body begin to throb and yearn, her mind now imagining what Lord Sutherland’s member might have looked like, had she been brazen enough to unbuckle his trousers and toy with it ... And her own sex once more began to tingle, as Angelica traced it gently with her fingers, trying to recreate the very movements that Lord Sutherland had made within her, wondering if she too could cause such a great explosion of pleasure inside herself ...
She closed her eyes and began to sigh as she felt her fingers slip gently inside that hot wet place between her legs, and at first she was so caught up in her pleasures that she didn’t hear the gentle knock at the door.
With a start, Angelica looked up, whipping her fingers from between her legs and covering her half-naked body with the crisp white sheets, still dressed as she was, just in the cotton petticoat she’d hastily thrown back on when running to her room.
“Yes?” she called out, confused. “Who is it?”
And despite herself, Angelica found herself hoping beyond hope that it was him again – come to touch her once more.
But no, the friendly now-familiar face of Mary once more appeared, as she pushed open the door and came into the room carrying a tray containing a jug and glass of water and a steaming bowl of soup with hunks of crusty, freshly-baked bread.
As soon as Angelica’s nostrils registered the delicious scent of the soup, she felt her stomach cry out in a growl, for it had been hours since she had last eaten. But with the strange turn of events of the last few hours, she hadn’t noticed until now. Mary had hardly set the tray down upon the dresser table in the corner before our exhausted and starving heroine had fallen upon it, noisily guzzling up the soup as quick as she could, mopping it up with hastily torn off chunks of the warm, sweet-tasting bread.
“My, my,” Mary laughed kindly. “Mistress really is hungry, isn’t she! Poor thing. You must have been half-starved from the journey. Well, I’m glad at least that you’ve retained your appetite after ...”
At this Mary fell silent, as if perhaps she’d gone too far, and Angelica looked up puzzled.
“After what, Mary?” she asked.
“Well,” Mary said sheepishly, once more unable to quite meet Angelica’s eye. “After your time with Lord Sutherland, Miss Angelica.”
Angelica knew that she was supposed to look away herself, shame-faced. She knew that Mary pitied her – pitied her for being used by Lord Sutherland so.
So Angelica arranged her features into an expression of modesty and shame, but then something strange happened. Some small rebellion rose from within Angelica, and she turned around to face Mary squarely in the eyes.
After all, what had she to be ashamed of? She had no part in the dealings that brought her to this house. That was between her parents and Lord Sutherland. And if Lord Sutherland were not to be ashamed of his desires, and from what little she had seen so far, he certainly wasn’t, then why should she?
Mary looked at Angelica, ready to comfort her, when Angelica opened her mouth to speak.
“I had a very interesting evening with Lord Sutherland, Mary,” she began. “I see now that my duties are to be somewhat unusual, but I believe that I shall enjoy the challenge, and I hope that I am able to please the Lord in all aspects of my work.”
At this, Mary’s jaw dropped.
There had obviously been many inhabitants of this beautiful room before she, Angelica realised. Many girls, to be comforted by Mary. But had there before been a girl who so relished her task?
“Dear girl,” Mary sighed. “I know that you are a good girl, and that you aim to please your master, just as I’m sure you aimed to please and obey your parents. But I have heard talk of what happens in that room. I have seen some of the consequences. It is out of my jurisdiction to stop anything that goes on. But you can count on me to be here for you. To be a shoulder to cry on.”
“Thank you, Mary, you are too kind,” Angelica said, for she realised that it was no use telling her just how much she had enjoyed what she had just experienced. Mary would never understand.
This was something that Angelica was used to. After all, she had alway
s been rather strange and odd – always standing out from the crowd in some way or other. She was used to being thought of as different, as an outsider. Even as a child, she had had few playmates, preferring to strike out her own path, lost in her daydreams. And as a young woman, things seemed to be taking a rather similar direction. Only now, rather than a solitary one, her path appeared to intertwine with that of another ...
And more questions seemed to flood Angelica’s mind: questions about her situation, about Lord Sutherland, and she realised that this was the perfect opportunity to seek out her answers.
Mary was already collecting up the empty bowl and tray when Angelica called out, “Wait!”
“What is it, my dear?” Mary asked, her kindly face breaking out in a curious smile.
“There have been others before me, haven’t there?” Angelica asked curiously.
She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it spoken aloud.
At this, Mary nodded, a subtle blush rising to her plump face, her hazel brown eyes firmly fixed on the floor as she spoke. “Aye, Angelica,” she said softly. “There have been others before you, yes. Other girls.”
“And where are they now?” Angelica asked, feeling her heart quicken a little as she waited impatiently for Mary’s answer. For just as much as she feared coming here only a few hours ago, now she feared dismissal.
“Come now, come now, don’t trouble your pretty head with all that,” the kindly maid said, once more bursting into movement, collecting up the tray and bowl and making her way towards the door.
“One more question, please?” Angelica called after her.
“Yes?” Mary said, stopping and turning back to face her.
“Lord Sutherland,” Angelica said, quietly. “Is he ... Does he ...” Angelica found her mind struggling for the correct words. “Is there a Lady Sutherland?”
And when Mary shook her head, Angelica felt a great rush of relief run through her young body.
How silly! Why should this news be a relief to her? Did she really imagine herself as the Lady of this house? Deep down of course, she knew that she could never be Lord Sutherland’s wife, but still, she felt glad for some reason that there was no other woman here at the house that he was romantically linked with. After all, she was allowed her silly little schoolgirl fantasies, wasn’t she, as long as she kept them contained in her head?