by Kane, Lacey
“Into the tub, and be quick about it,” the one who must be Haines said. He’d removed his coat and had the sleeves of his shirt pushed back.
Pinching her eyes closed, Jocelyn gingerly stepped into the steaming water. She lowered herself, wishing for a way to conceal her nakedness from their leering gazes.
Almost as soon as the water covered her, his hands were on her. He rubbed a bar of rose-scented soap everywhere, his rough hands gliding over her skin easily with the wetness. When he’d washed all but her most private areas, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps her master had ordered Haines to leave those places alone.
Her relief didn’t last very long, however.
“Stand up and face me,” he ordered. “Eyes open, pet.” Once she was on her feet, he took a bar of soap in each hand and rubbed them fiercely over her breasts, paying particular attention to her sensitive nipples. His eyes flashed with a lascivious gleam.
Jocelyn nearly cried out from the force of his attentions upon her abused flesh. Then, at some point, it turned from intense pain to a joint pleasure-pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Against her will, she arched her back and leaned in to his touch, and a strange moan bubbled up from within her chest.
“Like that, do you, pet? You little doxy.” Then Haines removed his hands from her breasts and she nearly fell over from the loss. “Spread your legs,” he ordered.
She moved her feet apart a bit, dreading his touch below. He roughly gripped her thighs and forced her feet as far apart as the tub would allow. Her most intimate place was exposed more than it had ever been before. When the previous duke had bedded her, it had always been in the dark, and she’d always been fully covered by the bedding. She’d never had a man see her nude form. He didn’t just look, either—he studied every inch of her, his gaze remaining for long moments on that secret part of her.
Haines took his bar of soap and rubbed it all over her sex, pressing it hard against her button until her hips inadvertently drove forward, as though seeking more of his touch. “Such a wanton, wicked girl you are, pet. His Grace is one lucky sod, if I do say so myself.” He grinned up at her, licking his lips with lewd intent.
Jocelyn couldn’t believe the way her body was reacting, the way her flesh was betraying her.
After a few minutes, he pulled the soap away and lathered it all over his hand, covering the palm and the backside equally. This couldn’t possibly be a good omen. She closed her eyes to brace her mind against whatever was to come, only to receive a sharp smack to her bottom as soon as she did.
“Haines told you to keep your eyes open,” Clarisse said.
Forcing herself to obey, Jocelyn stared into the servant’s eyes as he returned his now-lathered hand to her private parts, pumping two fingers inside her with a vigor she’d never expected possible. It stung at first, from both the soap and the invasion. But then, inexplicably, her pelvis started to move with him.
“Yes, you little minx. You like being fucked by a randy footman’s fingers, don’t you, pet? My big, long fingers feel good in your tight little pussy.” He added a third finger and stretched her wide, forcing his hand deeper inside her body.
Jocelyn moaned again, driving her sex ever closer to him and pressing her button against his palm.
With a victorious glint in his eye, Haines pulled his hand free from her body. “Turn around, pet. Time to give your porthole a little attention.”
Jocelyn groaned, but slowly did as she was ordered. One of the other footmen had carried over a chair and placed it before her. He and Clarisse unceremoniously bent her over at the waist, and he placed her hands against the seat. “Brace yourself, pet.”
Then Haines had his hands all over her bottom, rubbing the bar of soap in the crease between her cheeks and moving it down lower until it almost reached her fanny again. His strong hands alternated between gently caressing and forcefully spreading her apart. When he left her for a moment, the other two footmen moved closer and held her down.
Perhaps she should have done what one of them had warned her to do and braced herself. Yet she couldn’t have known what to expect when a wet, slippery finger pressed against her anus and forced its way inside. The ability to breathe left her, and she screamed out in pain when he slid it out then in again, deeper this time.
“That’s right, pet. Scream for me.” Haines pulled his finger free and lathered it up more, then it went straight back inside her without any warning.
Jocelyn struggled against the two men holding her, but they were far too much for her to overcome.
The finger in her thrust over and over again, deeper and faster. By the time it wasn’t quite so painful, he added a second finger and continued ravaging her sore bum.
When Haines added a third finger, Jocelyn thought she would be ripped in half. He reached his other hand around her and rubbed hard against her button. Soon, she was rocking her hips in time with his assault and mumbling incoherently. The two men at her sides released their holds with one hand each, moving them to toy with her breasts.
A knock sounded at the door and Jocelyn tensed, trying to pull herself away from their attentions, to no avail. They kept pinching her, thrusting into her, rubbing her sex into a frenzy. Clarisse pulled the key free from Haines’s pocket and unlocked the door.
Her master poked his head inside, and Jocelyn cried out in shame even as she cringed. She didn’t want anyone to see her in such a position, not even her husband—her master—who had been the very one to order it. “Is my pet behaving herself?” he asked. His black eyes were clouded with lust that would easily match, if not exceed, that which was raging a course through Jocelyn’s body.
“She’s fighting against us a bit, Your Grace,” Haines said from behind her, never slowing his assault upon her anus.
Jocelyn’s master came to stand before her, with the chair she was braced against between them. “I see,” he murmured. “She still has much to learn about her new position.” He headed back toward the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Remember, take her to the brink a few times, but do not allow her to spend.” And then he was gone.
The hands on her body increased their attentions as Clarisse once again locked the door. Jocelyn’s knees felt weak and wobbly, and she would have fallen over if not for the strong footmen holding her in place by her fiery nipples and aching bum. She thrust her hips back in time with Haines’s fingers and arched her back, pressing her breasts more fully into the hands there, crying out in exquisite agony.
Just when she finally felt like she might find a release for some of the unfamiliar pressure building inside her, Haines pulled away. “Stop,” he said to the other two men. Their hands left her body, and she whimpered with her need. “Lie down in the tub, pet.”
She could hardly stand any more if she tried, so she didn’t think that was asking too much. Jocelyn lay back down and Haines brushed his hands gently over her, rinsing away the soap he’d lathered over her. He did this for long minutes, until the fire inside her private parts had cooled to only a fever pitch instead of a raging inferno.
“Palmer, come work her teats,” he said a bit later.
Were they going to do the same thing again? Jocelyn wasn’t certain if she wanted them to or not.
Before she could make up her mind on the matter, however, Palmer had leaned over the edge of the tub and his big hands were squeezing her nipples, while one of Haines’s hands went to her mound. He thrust two fingers in her sex and the other two in her anus, and Jocelyn cried out when his thumb rubbed over her button.
She couldn’t cry out for long, however, as his other hand came over her mouth. He pinched her nose closed and made it impossible for her to breathe at all. Jocelyn flailed, but that only increased their attentions on her private areas.
“Smyth, hold her still,” Haines ordered.
Two strong hands pulled her arms behind the tub and held her immobile while the other men rubbed her sensitive body to a violent need. Being unable to breathe only seemed to i
ntensify the sensations wracking her private areas.
When Haines released his hold over his mouth, she gasped for air, only to have him immediately return his hand to that position.
Jocelyn’s lower body thrashed about, desperate for something just out of her reach. Just before she thought she’d pass out from lack of air or pain or pleasure, or maybe all of them combined, Haines uncovered his mouth and all of the hands left her body.
“Oh, God, please,” Jocelyn sobbed as she sank into the tub. She didn’t even know what she was pleading for—just that she needed something more than what they’d done to her, more than the bit they’d granted her.
But then strong arms lifted her free from the tub. It was Palmer’s turn to do his worst, apparently. He toweled her hard, going over every inch of her body multiple times with the soft cloth which felt rough against her sensitive, aching skin. He spent long minutes on her breasts and her private parts, with Haines and Smyth holding her down to the cold, marble floor, spread wide, as he tormented her body.
“Got to get you dried off everywhere, pet.”
Palmer pressed the cloth up inside her cunny with his fingers, abrading her from the inside as he had on the outside and bringing hot, stinging tears to her eyes in the process. When he did the same to her bum, and then accosted both holes at once, Jocelyn was unable to stop herself from screaming loud and long.
Haines brought a hand down over her throat, squeezing, until she could scream no more, while Palmer continued his torture. Then Palmer gripped her button between his fingers, with the fabric between them, pulling tight. His head moved down between her legs, but Jocelyn couldn’t watch him because of Haines restricting her head movement and her ability to breathe. She had no warning of what was to happen, when his teeth came down over her stretched button, biting into her sharply.
Even with Haines’s hand on her throat, her scream had to pierce through the whole estate.
When he was finally done and Jocelyn thought she would die if they didn’t end it in some manner or another, Smyth picked her up and laid her over a settee covered in red silk-satin. He poured scented oils over her body and rubbed them in, soothing her skin left abraded by the previous toweling. As expected by this point, he spent far longer oiling her breasts and sex, and even her derrière. While he worked those areas, Haines and Palmer stood her up and stretched her obscenely wide, each holding a leg in place. Clarisse joined them, locking Jocelyn’s arms behind her back.
His attentions were the first that were actually pleasant. After the rough treatment she’d received at Palmer’s hands, the oils he spread over her skin were calming, soothing. But then he worked them into her over and over and over again, until a new flood of need was building with her core and she was rocking against him, trying to get more of his touch.
Finally he finished, and Jocelyn was left for the moment, whimpering and curled up in a fetal position on the settee.
Clarisse moved to assist her in dressing, but Haines stopped her. “His Grace said you were to be rewarded for your assistance, minx.” He and the other two footmen stroked their members again, and Clarisse smiled seductively. Haines grabbed her and stripped the sheer gown over her head while Palmer and Smyth returned to Jocelyn.
Though she had no idea what they intended, by this point she was incapable of fighting against even their most nefarious plans.
They each held two leather straps in their hands, and they used them to tie her into place against the settee by the wrists and ankles, where she couldn’t move her away from the scene before her if she’d tried. Not that she had the energy to do anything, after the last little while.
“His Grace wants you to see the sorts of rutting he’s got in store for you, pet,” Palmer told her with a wink.
Moments later, all four of the servants were completely nude. Smyth lay on his back on the huge four-poster bed and pulled Clarisse to straddle him. He pushed his penis into her fanny without any sort of preamble, and she threw her head back with a soft cry. Haines climbed up behind her and pressed himself into her rounded bum, much as he’d done with his fingers to Jocelyn’s backside only a bit ago. Palmer kneeled on the bed beside them, taking Clarisse by a fistful of hair and forcing his manhood into her mouth to mate with her that way.
The room was filled with grunts and groans, plus the slapping and squishing sounds of vigorous mating. Jocelyn watched, enthralled, with a burning ache in her sex, the likes of which she’d never experienced before. Frustrated, she was completely unable to do anything about it for herself.
She hoped her husband—no, she reminded herself, her master—would alleviate this ache soon.
Gabriel had ordered Cook to prepare supper an hour earlier than the normal time, but still the wait seemed interminable. He’d spent an hour poring over the account ledgers relating to his new estates that his secretary had delivered after learning of his uncle’s demise, but had quickly bored of that. How could he focus on business matters when far more delightful matters such as training Jocelyn had presented themselves?
He’d checked in on Haines, Palmer, and Smyth, to be certain Jocelyn was being cooperative. If she needed punishment, he intended to be the one to deliver it. At least the first few times. Probably all of them, actually, though he might allow some of his servants the pleasure of such an assignment at some point in time. But while she wasn’t being entirely obedient, she had three fingers fucking her hard in the arse at the moment he’d walked in, and she looked to be finding pleasure in it almost despite herself, so he’d left her in their capable hands.
Then he’d searched out Mariah in the south wing where she’d been at work on her stitchery—making garments for his new pet—and had taken her to the stables, thinking that perhaps working out some of his frustrations on her might alleviate his discomfort. His butler, Bexley, had informed him that the young maid had worked incredibly hard the entire time he’d been gone to fetch Jocelyn, sewing the appropriate garments for his new bride and pet, and so perhaps she deserved a bit of a reward.
Yet watching her head bob repeatedly over his shaft had only left him wishing it was his lovely new bride swallowing his blade with such vigor.
When he’d tired of Mariah’s attempts to milk him, he had pulled the petite maid over his knee and spanked her firm arse with his bare hand until it was red and hot and she had scalding tears pouring down her cheeks and was begging him for permission to come.
Not even that had served to distract him from thoughts of Jocelyn’s sleek, black hair and large, full breasts, so he had frigged Mariah’s twat with two fingers, planting a third in her anus, until she’d screamed and collapsed over him with her little death.
When she’d revived, he sent her over to the two groomsmen, both with massive pricks at the ready—whom he’d brought along to watch the entire affair. Gabriel ordered them to rut her until she’d found release twice more, with the added suggestion of perhaps tying the seamstress down to a fence rail as they performed his bidding.
Restraints had always increased Mariah’s pleasure.
When he could envision no other way to distract his mind from his pet and her training, Gabriel had gone to the dining room to wait. He remained there now, anticipating the arrival of his quarry.
At precisely six o’clock, Haines opened the door and directed Jocelyn in. She wore an almost transparent blue gown in a shade that matched her eyes to near perfection. The gown clearly revealed there to be nothing beneath, just as he’d instructed Clarisse. He’d have to commend Mariah again for her speedy, skillful work.
The gown was so low on top, her teats nearly spilled over—teats still gloriously swollen and stimulated from the prior efforts of his footmen. It hugged tight to her curves everywhere, and her pussy was still so resplendently wet that it glistened just where the diaphanous fabric met her mons.
Gabriel rose to assist his pet into her high-backed, leather-covered chair, then turned to Haines. “Did she obey?” he asked.
“For the most part,
she did, Your Grace. However, she sassed Clarisse a bit there at the beginning, there were a number of moments of hesitation, and we had to hold her down a great deal more than should have been necessary.”
Not unexpected. Still, it couldn’t go unpunished. Gabriel nodded. “And Clarisse was properly rewarded for her assistance?”
“Yes, Your Grace. All three holes filled and a good load in each. We let her have her pleasure at the end, as well, like you said.”
“Thank you, Haines,” Gabriel said. He turned to the few servants remaining in the room. “Leave us.”
The door clicked to a close, and he was alone with Jocelyn.
Gabriel filled a plate for her, poured her a goblet of claret, and then resumed his seat across the table. She stared at her folded hands before her, a furious blush covering her face and all the way down to those beautiful globes. If the table did not stand between them, he imagined he could see her entire body covered in that delectable blush. He’d find out soon enough, however.
“Eat,” he commanded. “You’ll need your energy.”
Her eyes shot up to meet him. She wasn’t shaking in fear anymore. That was a good sign for how she would handle his plans for her. An even better sign was the hint of desire in her gaze, mixing with trepidation.
Still, she didn’t take a bite. Gabriel didn’t want to deliver her first punishment over such a matter. He gestured again to her plate and lifted a brow.
Finally, Jocelyn picked up her fork and took a bite of roast pheasant. He followed suit, now that she was doing his bidding. They ate in silence for several minutes.
When her plate was half empty, he took a sip of claret and cleared his throat. “Did you enjoy the afternoon I arranged for you, my pet? I imagine it was quite an enlightening experience after being in my uncle’s bed.”
Her fork clanged to her china plate. Such a jumpy thing. Gabriel would rather enjoy causing her to jump more frequently.