Conquering Sabrina

by Arabella Kingsley

  She struggled, cursing at his strength over her, but Raoul was to pay her verbal attack no heed.

  Raoul’s first strike of her bottom was firm and harsh. Sabrina squealed as the slap resounded in her ears. Her buttocks quivered, deeply pained with the force of his firm punishing hand. Tears sprang from her eyes at her humiliation. But another slap came thick and fast, giving her little time to think or speak. After a short while her struggles ceased and her tears subsided to gentle whimpers. Dignity came in accepting his punishment. What bothered her most now was the burgeoning desire and need she suddenly felt for him to satisfy the growing ache dwelling in the nest at the top of her thighs.

  Finally, Raoul administered his last slap of her bare bottom. It was a hard one. He had indeed spanked her soundly and she was quieter and calmer because of it. He knew her more than she liked. The notion riled her. It was some kind of jealousy she felt. He knew her intimately, yet she was kept in the dark about her true nature by her own mind.

  She felt Raoul lean forward, rubbing her buttock with his palm gently to soothe the burning soreness on her poor sore bottom. His lips brushed softly against her tender skin in a gentle placating kiss.

  “There is a healthy rosy colour to your bottom, Sabrina. Your spanking has been light this time. But should you persist in your misguided behaviour, cherie, I will colour it crimson. You must learn to accept my house rules.”

  Sabrina felt her husband slip his hand under her body and cup her sex. She couldn’t help but writhe against it as he applied pressure. The sensation flared her insides with unexpected pleasure, combining and conflicting with the stinging burning pain spreading across her buttocks.

  “So wet, darling.”

  Raoul nipped her clit between his fingers, forcing her to buck against his legs. Sabrina thought of the clit clamp as he continued to hold and squeeze her clit as though to milk the desire from her. Her vagina pooled in response. She remembered the careful, meticulous, and practiced way he’d clamped her clit. It might have been the first time her sex had been clamped, but it wasn’t the first time he had applied the apparatus to a woman. At the end of the long oak dining room table she had been instructed to lie backwards. He’d spread her legs and lifted them, instructing her to place her hands on them to hold them open. She’d never felt so open, accessible to a man and vulnerable. It was a delicious submissive feeling she now rebuked herself for allowing her mind to entertain.

  She recalled her feelings of fear and shame that she may be discovered in that shameful position by the house staff, yet Raoul was not concerned. In fact, he had welcomed it. All of his house staff was handpicked, all in taken-in-hand relationships, dominants or submissives, all undeterred by the public scenes they sometimes witnessed or were somehow involved with in his home. Raoul had only ever exposed her sexually to the staff of the house—people he trusted; anyone else was off limits. He was too possessive and protective with her around strangers.

  Raoul had worked her already damp clit, pinching, squeezing, stretching, stroking until she had been fit to burst with her desire, just as he did at that moment as she lay helpless over his knee. She remembered begging him to let her come, her body writhing and pulling at the burning nipple clamps, making pain flare hot and cold down the sides of her body. But he had forbidden her pleasure until he deemed her ready enough. She’d been angry and her indiscretion earned her clit and breasts a harsh lashing from the riding crop. When she began to sob with need, he gave his permission for her to orgasm, watching her body convulse and shake out of control as he stroked her clit with the end of the riding crop. His dark eyes showed her just how much pleasure he took from creating her own. She cried out her release so loudly, the whole house must have heard her. He skilfully applied the clit clamp while she still shook from the last waves of her pleasure. Then as Sabrina had remembered earlier, he had bound her wrists and gagged her mouth for her breast and clit spanking on the table.

  The experience had made her feel truly taken in hand and mastered. She had been quiet and respectful throughout the rest of the Sunday evening when he’d allowed her to wear a thin dress over the apparatus and eat. Then he’d carried her back to the tower room naked over his shoulder and made deep possessive love to her. She’d offered him no resistance to his protection and control after that night. It was the weekend he’d broken her in to their new taken-in-hand relationship. Now it seemed he was going to repeat the process until she submitted to him. Although she railed against it, something told her she would willingly bend to his dominance sooner than she believed.

  In the present, Sabrina writhed against his fingers, unaware she was pressing her wet sex against them, lifting her body up to beckon his penetration.

  “Bonne petite fille.” He sounded pleased with her.

  For a moment she forgot herself, slipped back in time in her personality and found herself eager to please him more. She moaned, remembering Raoul liked her to express her sensuality and arousal with her voice. She sighed with pleasurable relief when he inserted his fingers into her slick channel, stretching. His fingers were strong and dominant inside her, soothing and calming her, steadying the racing, conflicting thoughts in her mind. They reached deep inside, occasionally halting their ministrations so she could feel his powerful deep intimate hold and control of her body.

  Deliciously, he built her orgasm, already well on its way from her spanking. She was on the verge of coming when he surprised her by raising his free hand to spank her once again. The blows were harder than before. She opened her mouth to protest, but her need to come overwhelmed her. With a loud yelp her body spiralled, pooling with warmth, tingling through her stomach, vagina, and down her damp thighs as he continued to spank her. Glazed and lustful, she groaned her release over the slap of his hand, moving down on his fingers trapped in the cage of ecstasy in which he held her captive.

  Sabrina’s shudders ceased and Raoul pulled her up to sitting, her damp thighs spread open over his knees as she faced him.

  “Now that you are a lot calmer and quieter I should—”

  Sabrina didn’t let him finish his sentence. Temper at his actions, the orgasm he had induced from her in such a humiliating lustful way finally got the better of her better nature. In an effort to reorient her strict no-submission policy to a man, she brought her hand crashing against the side of his face in a heavy slap.

  Raoul’s reaction was swift. He caught hold of her arms, pulling her up off him. He pushed her backwards against the wall. She vainly attempted to raise her hand and slap him again, afraid for her life and the sudden violent darkness in his eyes. He caught both of her hands and held them against the wall at the sides of her head, trapping her there. Terrified of what he was about to do, Sabrina caught her breath. What followed spun her head and her thoughts out of control. Far from using violence against her, Raoul bent his head and captured her lips in a deep possessive kiss. But what disturbed her the most was her own reaction.

  Far from being repulsed or angered at him taking yet another liberty, Sabrina found herself responding as though it was a pleasure she had been denied for far too long. Slowly her resistance melted and she found herself in Raoul’s arms lost in another time. She felt her husband’s hands reach up under her dress and lift it to her waist, exposing her wet sex as he continued to kiss her deeply. He stroked her clit bringing it back to life, pressing his hardness against her as he did so. Sabrina heard Raoul pull down his zipper. The next moment she found her hips being tightly held and lifted into the air. He pressed her back against the wall and caressed her vagina with the tip of his penis. She groaned with pleasure, unable to help herself. Pain throbbed inside her channel, demanding Raoul’s thrust and penetration to subdue its aching need.

  Raoul’s lips found her neck to suck and kiss her as she felt him lift and draw her legs around his strong frame. Her sore bottom made contact with the cold wall and chafed against the gold leaf wallpaper. He pressed her bottom firmly back as if to heighten the sensation and with on
e thrust embedded himself inside her to the hilt. It was enough to send her over the edge again. His thrusts came hard and fast, designed to match the rhythm of her own orgasm, moving her bottom up and down against the wall in a frantic pace, making it chafe and burn to increase her pleasure. A growl echoed from his lips as she felt him tighten, then spasm and release his own pleasure in unison with her own. He was so deeply inside her it felt as though he would penetrate her womb. In that moment she wanted him more than she wanted anything in the last ten years of her life and damn the consequences and her guilt for being a submissive wife.

  Raoul rested his head against her forehead. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her cheek as a still quietness surrounded the room. Her legs were still wrapped around him and he was hardening inside her once again. Sabrina could find no words. What could she say? Her thoughts were confused. She was full of anger, resentment at her spanking and his control over her, but even after all he had done and said, a part of her responded to Raoul with trust and need. She prayed it was not misplaced. God help her, she wanted him with a passion.

  His soothing caress was slowing her frantic heartbeat and out of the blue she felt very tired and weary. Sabrina looked directly into his eyes, searching for his intentions. He gave a small laugh.

  “I can’t let you go. It’s been too long. All this time… Remember what we had together,” he almost whispered the words. “Just now… it was as if you remembered. Please… come back to me. Allow me to take care of you.” It was a plea for release from torment.

  Unexpectedly, Sabrina felt tears gather in her eyes and spill out on to her cheeks.

  “There’s so much I don’t know. I had to restart my life from scratch. The doctors told me I might never find out about my past. It’s been ten years now. I only get small flashes of memory. Maybe it isn’t going to happen. What if I can’t remember?” she asked, feeling the sudden weight of panic and guilt as she swept her eyes over all of the photographs of herself with Raoul. She felt it was now her responsibility to remember and ease Raoul’s pain.

  Raoul captured her lips and kissed her to silence the pain.

  “Shhh. Listen to me, Sabrina. You will remember. I’ll get you all the medical help you need.” He paused and smiled. “But if by some unbelievable chance you don’t, I will just make you fall in love with me all over again.”

  A knock at the door and the sound of the housekeeper’s voice interrupted their conversation. Raoul lowered her legs to the floor and slipped out of her. The sudden loss made her feel lonely again. He quickly encased his penis in his trousers once again. Sabrina hurriedly corrected her attire and felt surprised when he caught her hand in his before opening the door.

  “Francine, Madame Valoire has come home,” he told the woman with pride. He brought Sabrina’s hand to his lips and gently kissed it. That’s when she saw the wedding ring on his finger. It hadn’t been there when she arrived.

  The woman clapped her hands together excitedly and looked at Raoul with relief. She briefly touched his arm and smiled.

  “I have done as you asked and moved all of Madame Valoire’s clothes into your room again,” she informed him.

  Sabrina frowned.

  “Good. Now Madame Valoire is very tired and a little sore.” He grinned. The housekeeper gave a knowing nod of approval. She appeared to know exactly what he was referring to and clearly endorsed her spanking. Sabrina looked away, feeling embarrassment. “She needs to rest, but not before a small celebration for her homecoming. Please bring up a bottle of champagne to our room.”

  Any protest Sabrina had felt at sleeping with the man was now mute after their sexual encounter and she wanted to feel close to him that night. Besides, her bottom could not take another spanking. Dutifully, she allowed him to lead her to the master bedroom, eager to sleep and rest her chattering mind. She would make more sense of all that had happened in the morning and gain an appropriate perspective on what she needed to do next.

  Chapter Five

  Sabrina woke late the next morning. It hadn’t been a dream. She was still in Raoul’s bed, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had cradled her tenderly in his arms for most of the night, soothing her fears and filling her with the love she had been denied for so long. With a traitor’s heart to her cause of independence she had responded by melting against him, relishing the protective strength of his arms around her. She was no longer alone in her life.

  Sitting up, she felt the chill in the room immediately. Reaching for her dressing gown, she remembered what Raoul had said about draughts in the chateau the night before. Sabrina parted the silver grey drapes and stole a look out of a large arched window.

  A heavy winter’s frost covered the ground, giving the deceitful appearance that snow had fallen the night before. The room was positioned at the back of the large chateau and overlooked the formal gardens and wide lake in the distance. A light cold mist hung in the air. The sun tried in vain to penetrate the covering here and there, lending a breath-taking fairy-tale quality to the idyllic scene.

  Sabrina picked up a photograph on a table next to a vase of fresh Casablanca lilies. They were her favourite flowers. She smiled, considering that Raoul may have had them put in the room for her. The photograph showed her sitting on a horse next to Raoul on his. They were both leaning over towards each other engaged in a kiss. It was impossible to mistake the love between the two figures. Sabrina touched the figures in the picture and stroked her fingers over Raoul’s face. How could she forget her own husband?

  “Madame Valoire, are you all right?”

  It was Francine, bringing a breakfast tray into the room. Sabrina changed her frown into a gentle smile and nodded, thanking the woman for her concern. She put down the photograph and walked over to inspect the contents of the tray as Francine put it down on the table in front of the sofa. The woman moved away and busied herself lighting the open fire. Sabrina came to stand next to her.

  “Francine, please call me Sabrina. I hate Madame Valoire. It makes me sound ancient. Francine, is this all true or am I dreaming?” she said with humorous wonder, taking in her rich exuberant surroundings.

  Francine stood up and gave a small sarcastic laugh. Sabrina prickled.

  “No, Madame Valoire, you are not dreaming. Monsieur Valoire has really missed you. He never gave up looking for you. He has suffered too much. I only hope that you see fit to remember the wonderful life he has given you. You owe him that,” she said with a stiff measure of haughty disapproval. “And if you please, I prefer to use your correct title, Madame Valoire.”

  Sabrina raised an eyebrow. It seemed Raoul wasn’t the only one who bore some resentment and anger at her disappearance. She nodded, still shocked by the older woman’s forthright speech. Yet she considered it might work to her advantage. Perhaps Francine would also be forthright in giving her some information regarding the day of her disappearance.

  “Francine, what happened on the day of my disappearance? Did Raoul and I argue over something? I remember arguing with someone at party. I think it was here. It’s so faint and vague. Do you know what happened?” Sabrina asked, seizing her opportunity for information not coloured by Raoul’s influence.

  Francine’s face turned ashen. Sabrina watched her turn to the door to make sure no one was standing there. She opened her mouth to speak, but then quickly closed her lips together tight, obviously thinking better of what she was about to say. Eventually she spoke.

  “It’s not my place. If there is nothing else, Madame, I will leave you now.”

  Sabrina caught her arm.

  “No. Please, Francine. Help me remember. If not for my sake, then for Raoul’s,” she pleaded.

  Francine looked down at Sabrina with impatience and gave a small sigh. She opened her mouth to speak, but a male voice cut her short.

  “Francine, Sabrina will remember in her own time. We must be careful with her memory until she has been examined by my doctor,” Raoul told her firmly as he stood in the doorway.

&nbs
p; He had been riding. He wore a heavy knit cream jumper over the broad frame of his shoulders underneath a black wool jacket. Sabrina watched him throw his riding hat and crop on a chair and stride into the room in his jodhpurs and boots. For a moment she stared at the riding crop, remembering. Her nipples tightened and her clit tingled with the memory of feeling whipped. It was an effort to turn back to Francine and hide her blush.

  Raoul approached. Cedarwood, pine, and a generous helping of delicious male scent wrapped around her senses. Francine smiled nervously at Sabrina.

  “Of course,” she said with a brisk nod and took her leave.

  Sabrina clamped her teeth together in frustration. Francine obviously knew something Raoul didn’t want her to know by the dark look he gave the woman when she left the room. Sabrina would have to wait for another opportunity to question the woman alone.

  Raoul was pouring coffee for them both as he sat on the sofa when she looked back at him.

  “Sabrina, come and sit down. You hardly ate a thing last night. You need to eat.”

  He was speaking softly, as though she was a child. It infuriated her.

  “No,” she snapped. “I can’t eat anything. I need to clear my head. Since last night I can’t think straight. My life feels as though it is out of control. I need to leave and get some space so I can think.”

  She turned back to the bed, deciding to get dressed when she suddenly felt Raoul’s arms around her waist from behind, tugging her possessively towards him. She felt him press his head against hers before brushing his lips across her neck. It was such a good feeling to be held and loved but, she had to keep a level head.

  “No. I won’t let you leave. I have already won this argument.” His words were a whisper against her skin. “Perhaps…” He paused to kiss her neck again. Sabrina closed her eyes, finding herself melt with his warm closeness despite all efforts not to let him placate her with his seductive powers. “I should spank you again and lock you in the tower. At least I know you will be safe in there. No one will be able to reach you. I will have the key at all times.”