by Zoe Blake
On the bedside table was a selection of small, colorful vials on a silver tray. The estate's chef was an artist when it came to fragrant and flavorful oils. Lady Shackelton saw that each room had a selection of the exotic elixirs. He pulled the glass topper off the first one and inhaled the spicy scent - cinnamon and orange with a hint of clove. Perfect. Pouring a generous amount into his palm, he rubbed his hands together to warm the oil.
Angeline smelled the clove, a scent she now associated with him. She let out a shocked gasp and arched her back off the bed when she first felt his touch.
"Shhh…baby girl. Let Papa take care of you."
Angeline felt the silky warmth of his oil covered palms glide over her breasts and down her belly. He followed the curve of her hip and along the outside of her thigh only to sweep up along her side again. He circled each breast, gently curving around the underside, testing the weight. With each stroke of his hand, the oil warmed and melted onto her skin, creating a satiny sheen.
Angeline felt as if she were floating. His voice came to her as if from far away. "Open your legs, little one. Show Papa that sweet cunny." She shyly spread her knees open a fraction. "Wider, baby."
Blackhurst caressed under both her thighs, gently lifting his hands up and over, opening her for his view. There was just a sparse dusting of baby fine blonde hair over her sweet pale pink cunny lips. He could not wait to taste her. Picking up the small vial, he held it over her cunny and drizzled the smallest amount, as if topping off a delicate dessert.
Angeline clutched fistfuls of the silk bed covers as she raised her hips. Her mind screamed for her to be embarrassed, but the sensations coursing through her body were too strong. In some perverse way, she was grateful for the blindfold. It made her feel as though she were hiding, as if these intimate, strange things were happening to someone else.
Blackhurst started at the top of her cunny and slowly ran his two middle fingers down the seam, increasing the pressure when he reached the curve of her bottom.
"Oh…what…oh…I don't…" Angeline tried to form a protest but could not when she felt his fingers tease between her bottom cheeks.
The width of his fingers forced her cunny lips open. He stroked the sensitive inner folds with long sweeping circles, occasionally sweeping scandalously low. Lulling her body into complacency, he gave her cunny one more full sweep before pushing the blunt tips of two fingers into her tight entrance.
Angeline's shoulder's shot off the bed in fright and surprise, but Blackhurst was ready for her. His other hand firmly grabbed her left breast and squeezed as he forced her back onto the downy softness of the bed. He relentlessly pushed his fingers into her virgin passage, clenched tight in fear.
"Please, please…it hurts."
"Hush," he commanded. Between her body's own arousal and the fragrant oil, no matter how hard she tried to resist, his fingers continued their push deep inside her body. Knowing it would soon be his cock she was clasping and clamping down on inflamed him even more. Soon his fingers were pushed in to the hilt. The tip of his finger pushed against the barrier of her maidenhead. Rubbing the edge of his palm against her clit, he hooked his fingers till they scraped along her tender, untouched inner walls.
"Baby, I want you to take a deep breath and hold it. This is going to hurt at first but I promise it will be worth it."
"No," she started to cry. "Please…I don't want too. This feels too strange," she pleaded with him as she blindly reached out to try and grab his wrist to pull his fingers out of her already sore cunny.
"If you don't put down your hand, I will tie you to the headboard," he said through clenched teeth. "Now do as you are told."
After a few shaky sobs, she finally composed herself enough to take a deep breath and hold it. Blackhurst flattened his hand over her stomach to hold her steady. He then pulled his fingers out and forced them back into her snug cunny with such force she rocked up on the bed. Angeline shrieked in fear and pain. Despite his warning she once again tried to grab his wrist. Blackhurst was too quick for her, snatching both her small hands up in his large one and holding them against her stomach as he continued the assault.
Increasing the vigorous rhythm, he drove his fingers into her tight cunny over and over again, just shy of breaking through her maidenhead.
Angeline shook her head from side to side lost in a haze of pain. It felt strange and wrong. He had his fingers inside of her! She ached from trying to keep him out.
"I can't…stop…stop," she moaned.
"Your Papa knows best, baby."
As he continued, the pain shifted. The friction of his fingers created this shimmer of warmth. The faster his fingers moved, the warmer it felt. Angeline began to shift her hips as she pulled on her captive hands. She no longer wanted to pull his hand away. She unexpectedly felt as if she had to move and shift to relieve this tension building inside of her. Blackhurst pulled his hand free and quickly thrust three fingers straight to the hilt into her clenching cunny. Angeline's whole body arched off the bed as her world exploded into a burst of color and sounds. He kept his fingers buried deep in her pussy till he felt the last tremor.
He wanted her to cum one more time before he truly fucked her. It was time to taste her sweet cunny.
"Is your poor cunny sore, little one?"
Angeline nodded, incapable of speech, having never experienced anything like that in her entire life.
"Papa is going to kiss it and make it better."
The moment his words sunk in, her cheeks flamed scarlet beneath the blindfold. He could not possibly mean to kiss her there.
"Oh, but…no, that is too embarrassing…you couldn't!" she protested.
"You sweet little thing. There will be no part of your body I will not be acquainted with before long," he chuckled as he settled himself between her thighs. He ran his fingers down her cunny one last time, delighting in the shiver that wracked her body.
"Now, open your mouth nice and wide."
Confused, Angeline did not immediately obey. Blackhurst reached up and painfully twisted one of her nipples. With a cry, she opened her mouth wide. "Good girl." Her lips trembled as she waited to see why he commanded her to open her mouth. The blindfold she took comfort in moments earlier now a cruel taunt. She did not have to wait long.
Blackhurst pushed the tips of his fingers past her small, soft lips. Her cute pink tongue began to swirl about as she tried to expel his fingers, just as her little cunny had tried and failed. Angeline tried to protest.
"Hush, baby. While I need to train that tight cunny of yours to accept my cock, I also need to train this sweet little mouth to open nice and wide for me. Now relax your lips. Let my fingers rest on your tongue. I want you to taste yourself. Taste your own arousal. Taste the spicy clove and citrus oil."
Angeline whimpered but had no choice but to obey. He kept his fingers forced into her mouth as he placed his own mouth over her cunny. Blackhurst sucked her clit into his mouth as he swirled his tongue around the tip. Angeline's hips bucked up at the intense sensation, but Blackhurst remain latched on, forcing her to suck on his fingers while he sucked on her clit. Placing his hand under her hip, he squeezed her still spanked sore bottom cheek the precise moment he lightly scraped her sensitive bundle of nerves with his teeth. Angeline came so hard she bit down on his fingers in her frenzy.
Rising, Blackhurst grabbed Angeline by the hips and flipped them so she was astride him. The sudden change in position so soon after another shattering experience left her momentarily disoriented. He ripped off her blindfold. Angeline blinked down at him. He snatched her chin to get her attention.
"I will not take your maidenhead. You must give it to me, mon amorette, my little love." His fierce silver eyes clashed with her dazed midnight blue ones. "Know this. The moment you do. You will be mine. There will be no turning back. Whatever I demand of you, you will give willingly or I will take."
Angeline felt as if she were standing on a precipice. This man was powerful, mysterious and d
Slowly, she nodded her head 'yes.' Blackhurst freed his straining cock from his black silk trousers.
"Raise your hips," he ordered. She did as she was told, rising up on her flanks.
He positioned the broad head of his cock at her entrance, slick with her own arousal, the fragrant oil and prepared by his finger fucking. Without any further warning, he seized her by the hips in a punishing grip. Using her own body weight as leverage, Blackhurst forced her down onto his shaft, breaking through her maidenhead, thrusting to the hilt.
Angeline screamed at the shattering pain and tried to buck off his hips, but his grip was too strong. She flattened her hands against his solid chest desperately trying to push off his shaft.
"Let me go! Let me go!" she pleaded through her tears.
"No. You were warned, angel. Now be still," he growled.
At his fierce words, Angeline immediately fell quiet; the only noise heard in the room at that moment was the crackle of the fire and her occasional sniffle.
"Look at me, mon amorette," Blackhurst coaxed as he brushed her downy curls away from her face.
Angeline reluctantly obeyed.
Blackhurst ran a knuckle down her soft cheek. "Tell me what you feel."
"Pain," she sobbed.
"Pain is your sacrifice. I want you to feel beyond the pain," he soothed as his fingers caressed along her shoulder down to the top of her breast. "I want you to learn to reach for the pleasure that can only be found through pain."
"But..." she interrupted.
He pinched her nipple, hard. Angeline yelped.
"That sore feeling between your legs? That throbbing pressure filling you up, making you feel like you will split in two? That is my cock pushed deep inside your body, possessing you. I am now part of you."
Blackhurst slowly lifted her hips and lowered her down on his cock to emphasize the power of his words. Angeline could feel her body stretch and strain to accommodate him.
"This is not mere pain, my little one, but the pleasure of complete possession." He once again punched his hips up, pushing in further than she thought possible.
"Oh, god," Angeline groaned, the strength of his words overpowering her physical awareness of her own body.
"Give in to me, little one. Be mine." He groaned into her ear as he forced her down onto his chest, the position slightly elevating her hips.
Blackhurst grasped her by the back of the neck with his left hand as he clutched her tiny waist with his right. He began his assault, driving his hips upward at a punishing speed as he pistoned his cock into her poor, sore cunny. What began as an aching soreness started to burn as her tender passage scraped and tore from the onslaught of his thick shaft. Angeline's mind splintered, her thoughts fleeing as she focused only on her body, on the throbbing pain, which was when it happened. The pain transformed into a bright glowing need. The harder he thrust the more the need grew, the greater the pressure, the ache building in her belly. When Angeline thought she could not stand another moment of the conflicting responses, the pressure burst, and all the breath left her body. She felt she would have floated away if not for his strong arms holding her down.
Somewhere as if in the distance, she heard a deep roaring sound as she felt this hot rush deep inside her, then Blackhurst, too, went still.
Moments later, Angeline sat up in a daze, straddling him. Looking down, she saw his blood smeared fingers from where she'd bitten him earlier. Her eyes then strayed to the virginal blood smeared between her own thighs. Didn't the Devil seal contracts for your soul in blood? Overcome, her eyes fluttered close. She fainted.
Chapter Seven - The Maiden And The Minotaur
Angeline slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the bright morning sunlight. As she stretched, her aching muscles protested. She blushed at the scandalous reminder of her behavior last night. Angeline knew she should be ashamed of her outrageous behavior. Her grandmama would have called it disgraceful, and probably worse. But try as she might, she could not summon the tiniest bit of regret or guilt. She was finally having an adventure! Lord Blackhurst was dark and demanding but he was also handsome, intense and passionate. Angeline felt a ripple of excitement just remembering her body's reaction to him. She turned over and buried her head into his still warm pillow, inhaling his clove and musk scent.
There was a soft knock on the door before a maid entered carrying a small tray.
"Good morning, miss."
"Good morning," responded Angeline shyly. She was not used to servants, plus she was still lying naked like a wanton woman in bed.
"His lordship asked that you not be disturbed till now, said you needed your rest," the maid said cheerily as she laid the tray down on a table close to the bed and approached Angeline and began fluffing pillows behind her back. Angeline blushed even more hotly as she pulled the covers up high to cover her breasts, mollified at the maid's casual demeanor at the idea of his lordship in her bed.
"Now sit up, please," said the maid as she helped Angeline shimmy up. "We have a nice hot breakfast ordered special for you by his lordship," she said with a smile as she placed the tray across Angeline's lap.
Angeline looked down at the tray and frowned. Over the years as a seamstress, she had heard many stories of the grand parties of the ton. It was one of the reasons she threw caution to the wind and agreed to Lady Herrington's risky scheme. The ladies who requested their gowns let out would often blame it on the sumptuous feasts. Based on these tales, Angeline had been expecting baked apples with sweet cream, griddle cakes, maybe even some broiled kidney pie with a nice hot pot of chocolate and perhaps even some little French pastries to finish. She stared in dismay at the simple bowl of porridge accompanied by a glass of milk. There wasn't even any sugar!
"This looks horrid," Angeline said with a pout. "This is a meal for a child! This is what Lady Shackelton serves to her guests when they break their fast?" she asked.
"Oh, miss," laughed the maid. "Surely not! The guests dined on poached kippers, sausages, eggs, Yorkshire pudding…"
"Enough!" shouted Angeline. "Why have you not brought me that breakfast?"
"His lordship left strict instructions that you were to have a simple meal followed by a bath. He also said you were not allowed to join the other guests in the entertainment planned this morning and you were to stay in your room till he came to fetch you."
"Did he now?" questioned Angeline, angrily setting the tray away. "Prepare my bath, please."
"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast, miss?" asked the maid worriedly.
"No. What was the entertainment planned?"
"Lady Shackelton has a surprise for everyone down by the maze on the south lawn. It is quite risqué even for one of her house parties judging by the costumes left in the ladies' rooms," tittered the maid.
"Costumes?"
The maid walked over to her dressing cabinet and pulled out an unnoticed garment. At first glance, it looked like a linen sheet draped over a hanger.
"What is it?"
"It's called a toga," said the maid with glee. "It is a type of dressing robe ancient Greek women would wear…with no undergarments," she whispered with emphasis, clearly scandalized. "All the women from the party are to dress in one of these and appear on the south lawn in one hour."
"Well then we had better hurry!" announced Angeline.
* * * * *
An enraged Lord Blackhurst tore through the manor home, heading for the south lawn. The moment he had returned to Angeline's rooms and found her gone, he'd known where to look for the disobedient girl. Her bottom would pay dearly for her defiance. He had spent the morning reviewing the nanny references his butler had sent by messenger. He had also ordered an entire wardrobe for Angeline. After their evening together, he was absolutely convinced he had found his perfect little one. Now, however, he regretted leaving her alone. Obviously, his little one would require constant supervision and discipline, he thought with a smile.
When he got to the south lawn maze, the rest of the guests had already gathered. He immediately saw Angeline, her petite frame loosely draped in an ivory fabric that highlighted her creamy skin and pink cheeks. In the morning sunlight, her halo of curls looked like burnished gold. The soft folds of the costume showed off every uncorseted curve.
She refused to meet his gaze, but he could tell from her guilt flamed cheeks she was aware of his presence.
"Lord Blackhurst, you made it after all," greeted Lady Shackelton.
"It seems my plans for the morning have changed," he said through clenched teeth, watching as Angeline lowered her head, suddenly showing extreme interest in the flowers at her feet.
"Well, I am sure the ladies are pleased you changed your mind. Now then, gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to remove your shirts, leaving only your riding breeches and boots," instructed Lady Shackelton. While her words were addressed to all the guests, a careful observer would have noticed she paid particular attention to Lord Fairfax as he removed his outer garments.
Angeline turned a shocked gaze first to Lady Shackelton then to the guests, then finally, reluctantly to Blackhurst. It was silly and adventurous to wear an indecent gown among a select few when it was all in fun, but she was not so sure about the men removing their clothing! Blackhurst raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of reproach. Didn't he try to warn her about this house party last night?
"Very good," said Lady Shackelton. "Now, my servants are passing out pairs of horns. Gentlemen, please take a pair and put them on your head. You all look just splendid!" she said, clapping her hands after all the men were in full costume.
Despite her misgivings about what was happening, Angeline could not argue with that statement as it applied to Blackhurst. Every hollow and muscled ridge of his chest and abdomen was on full display. Of their own volition, her eyes strayed to the almost obscene bulge outlined by his buff riding breeches. Combined with the horns and outdoor setting, he looked positively uncivilized.
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