My Lord and Master

by Whitlock, Victoria

  “I-I think you have taken a wrong turn, Sir,” Angelica stammered, backing herself into the farthest corner of the kitchen.

  “What makes you say that, little girl?” the man hissed, lurching towards her, his groping hands outstretched, the horrible bulge in his breeches clear as day.

  Angelica looked around her, hoping for some implement, a carving knife, a rolling pin, even a frying pan, to help fight him away with. But there was nothing within her reach, and all she could do was press herself tightly into the corner of the room, her heart pounding, her palms growing clammy, her eyes widening with fear as he came right up towards her, carrying with him a horrible stink of cigars and sweat and bad breath.

  “I know you want this, I saw how much you enjoyed displaying yourself to us out there” he said, tugging now at his breeches to free himself, “just keep still and I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to have a little enjoyment of the pretty cunny you showed us all back there, that’s all ...”

  “Please sir,” Angelica whispered, shaking her head, “please don’t ...”

  But the horrible weasel-faced man did not listen, tugging open his breeches, his disgusting purple tool springing free. He gripped it like a dagger as he stumbled towards her, his bead-black eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed in a yellow-toothed grimace.

  He lunged right at her then, and Angelica whimpered as she felt him grab at her breast, tearing the flimsy pinafore right from her body, leaving her bare, covering herself with her hands as best she could. But his hot rough hands pulled her arms away to her sides, his grip so hard upon her wrist that she cried out in pain.

  “Keep still, you slut,” he growled, slamming her hard against the cold tiled wall of the kitchen as he pushed himself right up against her, his horrible breath fogging her face, his rough right hand pinning her by the neck against the wall, his left now rummaging between her legs, forcing his fingers a little way inside her.

  And Angelica had just about given herself up to her horrible fate, when his actions were interrupted by a loud, familiar voice.

  “Leave her,” his cold voice commanded, causing the disgusting weasel man to stop and turn around. “Let go of her this instant.”

  Over the man’s shoulder, Angelica saw him: Lord Sutherland, his eyes smouldering, his whole body trembling with rage.

  “Why Angus!” the other man bleated, feigning friendliness, “I was just having a little word with your delightful young servant here ...”

  “Enough,” Lord Sutherland bellowed, striding towards Angelica and the weasel-faced man, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him roughly away from Angelica, who crouched on the floor to retrieve the tattered remains of her apron.

  “I think it’s time you left my house now, don’t you, Frederick?” Lord Sutherland continued, his voice trembling with barely concealed anger.

  “Quite, yes! Look at the time, Angus!” the weasel-faced man whimpered, making a show of looking at his pocket watch, before hurriedly scampering out of the kitchen, muttering his goodbyes.

  Lord Sutherland turned to Angelica, who was still shivering in the corner of the room, pressed against the cold tiles, her arms covering her modesty, her heart thudding madly in her chest.

  “My Angelica,” he began, his voice now much calmer, his eyes flooding with sadness as he took her in, “I’m so sorry. If I’d known that what I asked you to do would have caused something like ... this ...”

  He fell silent, shaking his head.

  “It’s was all my fault, My Lordship,” Angelica said quietly.

  “No, it’s wasn’t,” Lord Sutherland cut in, taking her in his arms now and pressing her to him in a tight embrace. “It was I that put you in a position of danger. And when I saw him with you like that ... Well, it made me realise just how precious you really are to me. I don’t want to share you with anyone, Angelica. You’re mine, and mine alone. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, My Lordship,” Angelica said, her bosom flooding with happiness, her body melting in his embrace. She felt so warm, so happy, so protected, cradled like that in his strong, powerful arms.

  “Please,” he said, gently kissing her head, “you should call me Angus. Now get to your room, dear Angelica. You must rest.”

  Angelica nodded, smiling, her head once more whirling – but this time with happiness.

  “Yes ... My Lordship, I mean, Angus.”

  It felt rather strange, speaking his name like that, but Angelica found she enjoyed it, too.

  And as she put on remnants of the torn black pinafore and turned to head back up to her room, she shot him a final shy smile, their eyes catching for a moment in the dim light of the kitchen, and to her delight, he returned it, as if he too felt as if something had changed between them that evening.

  “What on earth could this be, My Lordship?!” Angelica tentatively enquired.

  They were in his room again, and Angelica had plucked up the courage to stray over to one wall to examine some of the many strange items, the items that adorned the walls of this curious room, the items that she had previously puzzled over on her clandestine trip here, only a few nights before.

  “Please,” Lord Sutherland laughed in reply. “I told you girl. You’re to call me Angus from now on.”

  “Well, Angus,” Angelica said, the name still feeling so strange on her tongue, “what pray is that thing?”

  It was the small, shiny, jet black object – the one that had transfixed Angelica that first time she’d seen it. It was about the length of Angelica’s thumb, and perhaps fashioned from painted wood, with its wide bulbous head at one end tapering down to a thinner tube at the other.

  “Is it perhaps some sort of child’s toy?” she asked, timidly.

  “My God, no!” Lord Sutherland replied, shaking his head. “This invention is for adults only. Well, since you’re so curious, girl, I think I’d better demonstrate how it works.”

  Angelica nodded shyly, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she knew that this strange contraption would probably bring her some more of the pleasure she’d begun to crave – that odd mix of pleasure and pain that only her Lord and master seemed to know just how to deliver.

  “Well then,” Lord Sutherland continued. “Bring it over here then, girl.”

  So Angelica took the strange contraption from its hanger on the wall, the sleek varnished wood of the object feeling cool in her slender fingers, its round bulbous end fitting comfortably in her palm. She still couldn’t figure out what in the world this strange little object could possibly be for – the only thing similar she’d seen to it in size and construction was one of those wooden cup and ball games the children at the markets sometimes amused themselves with, or perhaps a chess piece. But no, this object was different too, almost as if the darkness of its paint was in some way suggestive of its forbidden uses ...

  Angelica arrived before her Lord, who was sitting once more in his throne-like chair, his legs spread wide apart, and as she handed the strange little object to him, she noted with a flash of excitement that he was already rather excited, too, his manhood clearly straining at his trousers already.

  “Now first, Angelica,” he began, “you will need to turn around so your back is to me.”

  “Very well, Angus,” Angelica replied, hearing the trembling anticipation in her own voice.

  She could feel her cunny beginning to throb sweetly, too. After all, she’d been obeying her Lord’s instructions to the letter and hadn’t touched herself since her little show in the smoking room the other evening.

  “Very good, girl,” he said, once she’d turned away from him. “Now, take off your bloomers and hitch up your dress.”

  Angelica did as she was told, slipping her bloomers down over her legs, stepping out of them and then hitching up her dress, feeling the cool air upon her bare buttocks.

  “A little further, girl,” he said quietly, and Angelica could hear the thick tightness of desire in his voice now; there was no mistaking it. “Go on, right up around yo
ur waist.”

  She did just as she was told, pulling her dress tight around her waist, her sex tingling with anticipation, growing moist between her legs, her pert bare buttocks presented to Lord Sutherland.

  “Now spread your legs wide apart and then bend forward,” he instructed.

  As with that first time he inspected her in this room, again Angelica felt a pang of embarrassment, as she realised now that he would see that most tender, secret part of herself – even more secret than her cunny.

  But still, she did as she was told, feeling her face flush with heat as she bent forward, pushing her bottom right back towards Lord Sutherland, knowing now that he was paying attention to the pretty little rosebud that lay hidden between her cheeks.

  Angelica gasped as she felt the hotness of his fingertips graze between her legs, and even just that brief touch sent her so close to completion that her legs began to tremble.

  “Keep still, girl,” Lord Sutherland growled, as he began to work his fingers back and forth over the wet, swollen opening to her sex.

  And then he did something she wasn’t quite prepared for, tracing the hot wetness further upwards, his focus sure enough now directed upon her tight little rosebud, first working the gooey wetness around her hole and then, after a delicious pause, actually pushing a fingertip inside her there.

  Again, Angelica gasped. Never had she realised that this place on her body could cause such pleasure – and seemingly even more sweetly mixed in with the pain she craved, too!

  As Lord Sutherland drove his finger ever deeper inside her, she groaned, feeling her sex pulsating, the flashes of pleasure rocketing right the way through her.

  Next he pulled his finger from her, eliciting a little moan from her lips as she thrust her bottom eagerly back towards him for more.

  “Oh, you actually like that, do you girl?” he said, a certain surprise in his voice.

  “Yes, yes, my master,” Angelica whispered, her face burning with shame as she admitted that she wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers inside her in that way again.

  Lord Sutherland responded by grabbing her arse roughly and parting her cheeks wide, pulling her back towards him, as he leant forward, and then ...

  Angelica gasped as she realised he’d spat, right there between her cheeks, the coolness and wetness of it, there on her rosebud, taking her by surprise.

  And then she gasped again, as now she felt the sharp coldness of the glossy bulbous tip of that mystery object, pressing against her hole.

  Angelica groaned. Never could she fit something as wide as that inside her, surely!

  But still, Lord Sutherland persisted, pushing the object even more firmly against her tight little rosebud.

  “You must relax, girl,” he murmured, and Angelica tried to let herself relax into it, as much as she was able.

  “Please ... Angus,” she whispered, “may I touch myself, too?”

  “If you must,” he replied.

  And so Angelica reached her trembling fingers between her legs, touching them to her swollen cunny, as Lord Sutherland continued to try to fit the shiny object inside her bottom.

  She moaned as her fingers grazed lightly against her clit, which was more swollen than she’d ever felt it before, peeping out fully from beneath its little hood of flesh, as hard and prominent as a stiff little fingertip.

  And as she worked it tenderly with her fingers, feeling the warm wetness of her sex dribbling down the insides of her thighs, her focus on that part of her had meanwhile allowed her arse to slacken, just enough for the bulbous tip of the object to slip slowly inside.

  Angelica groaned again as she felt her rosebud spreading wider and wider to accommodate the object, the strange delicious coolness of it now slipping ever deeper inside her, her muscles clamping down upon it as it slid so deep within her, causing that lovely friction – that delicious intersection between pleasure and pain that she’d grown to love, dealt at the hand of her Lord and master.

  “Good girl,” Lord Sutherland said, letting go of her buttocks. “You can stop touching yourself now.”

  Angelica was so close to coming, she didn’t want to stop, but she knew she must obey him, her sex throbbing as that strange object lay buried inside her, her pert little buttocks clamping it firmly in place, just the cool slender tip of it emerging a little ways from her rosebud.

  What an odd sensation!

  “Well,” Lord Sutherland said, as if it was perfectly normal, “put your bloomers back on, then go to your room and dress sensibly, for I think we shall take a little stroll around the grounds.”

  “W-with this inside me?” Angelica stammered incredulously.

  “Of course, girl!” Lord Sutherland smiled, wickedly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “It is my command.”

  Never had she felt such a curious sensation! Angelica couldn’t help but suppress a shiver of pleasure as she strolled around the beautiful sunlit grounds of the estate, wearing a pretty frock, matching bonnet and black lace up boots, her arm linked with Lord Sutherland’s, yet all the while that curious thing was lodged between her buttocks, hidden beneath the folds of her skirt, causing little jolts of pleasure with each fresh step she took.

  Every now and again, she had to grip Lord Sutherland’s arm a little tighter, and stop herself from gasping, as she occasionally felt herself drawn to the very edge of pleasure, her cunny threatening to explode, all on its own, just from the stimulation of that strange toy in her bottom.

  “You are certainly a curious little thing,” Lord Sutherland observed, looking down at Angelica as she sucked on her bottom lip, her eyes half-closed in pleasure as another ripple ran through her slender frame. “It’s as if you actually enjoy carnal relations as much as a man!”

  “Why, of course I do!” Angelica exclaimed rather brazenly. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  At this, Lord Sutherland shook his head in puzzlement. “I suppose you should,” he mused. “It’s just ... well ... most girls don’t enjoy it much, so I’ve heard.”

  “Well, I supposed I’m just different then,” Angelica stated.

  “I suppose you are,” Lord Sutherland agreed, shooting her a smile as they strode towards the back of the house, where the lake and stables were.

  Angelica’s eye was drawn in particular to a tall, muscular fellow with a shock of thick blonde hair, who was sweeping the doorway to the stables.

  “Oh, I see you’ve set eyes upon my stablehand, Phillip,” Lord Sutherland noted quietly, as he followed Angelica’s gaze. “Find him handsome, do you?”

  “Not as handsome as you, my Lordship,” Angelica replied truthfully, although she had to admit to herself that he was rather good looking – a little younger and leaner than Lord Sutherland, perhaps, but still rather fetching.

  “And what would you say if one night I were to invite Phillip up to my room with us, to have a little fun with you,” Lord Sutherland continued, as they walked ever closer to the stables.

  “I’d agree to do whatever you wanted, my Lordship,” Angelica replied, feeling fresh shivers of pleasure with each step she took, unable to stop herself imagining Phillip disrobing, uncovering his tanned body and his thick hard cock ...

  “And what if I were to ask you to get down on your hands and knees girl, and take Phillip’s cock in your mouth, while I were to thrust myself deep in your pretty arse?” Lord Sutherland continued, his words seeming to cause even greater pleasures within Angelica.

  She was trembling now, feeling her pleasure building and building inside her.

  “Please stop, my Lordship, or I’m going to ...” she whimpered, as she took another step closer to the stables, right towards Phillip, who had stopped his sweeping now to turn and watch them approach.

  “I bet you’d like it, wouldn’t you girl,” Lord Sutherland murmured in her ear, “to feel his hot cock pump its seed into your mouth while I filled up your pretty arse, hard and deep with my manhood ...”

  “My lordship, please,” Angelica whimpered now, feel
ing herself right on the brink of exploding, just as they approached Phillip, her pretty arse clenching tight around the smooth bulbous head of the toy, her cunny throbbing madly, her nipples stiff and tingling.

  “Ah Phillip, this is my girl Angelica,” Lord Sutherland said calmly to the stable boy, a wicked glint in his eye. “Angelica, this is Phillip. Say hello, won’t you, my dear?”

  “Good day, sir,” Angelica whimpered, trying to supress her pleasure as much as she was able, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to stifle herself.

  “Good day, Angelica,” Phillip said, extending his hand.

  And as he took her trembling hand in his own, the sheer warmth of Phillip’s palm and the intensity with which the two men were looking at her now – not to mention the downright filthy things Lord Sutherland had whispered to her, which were still reverberating around her head – all contrived to push Angelica right over the edge.

  She sucked hard on her bottom lip, and felt her eyelids flutter closed as, beneath her dress, her cunny finally gave way, that hot wetness splashing against the insides of her thighs, her arse clamping tight around the toy, her sex throbbing madly as the pleasure consumed her young body completely.

  “My, my!” Lord Sutherland, exclaimed, “it seems as if the heat has got too much for the poor girl! Come on, let’s get you back inside, my dear.”

  And with that, Lord Sutherland once more took Angelica’s arm and led her back towards the house, her whole body trembling from the force of her orgasm, her legs like jelly, her face and breast flushed a deep rosy pink.

  But as they were about to reach the back entrance to the house, Angelica stopped in her tracks and turned to face Lord Sutherland, a strange smile curling upon her lips.

  “What is it, girl?” he asked her, curiously.

  “I’m just ... I’m just grateful for the chance to serve you,” Angelica replied shyly, still blushing – but not just from her pleasure. From tenderness too, real tenderness which she felt towards the cold, dark creature standing there before her. She had only been here a little time, and for most of their acquaintance he had remained icy cold, brutal even. Yet were there not moments of tenderness, too, however brief, from him to her? And although she fully understood her place here in the house, and knew she could never be at his side, not the way Lady Reedsdale could, Angelica meant what she said.