by Zoe Blake
"Gentlemen, you are the Minotaurs and the ladies are your virgin sacrifices," announced a thrilled Lady Shackelton. There was some especial amusement among the guests over the notion the ladies present were anything near virginal. "The ladies will enter the maze first. They will have a few minutes head start. My lords, when you enter the maze, whichever lady you capture - she is your sacrifice – and you may do with her whatever you please!"
With a cry of excitement, the ladies rushed towards the entrance to the maze. Angeline was swept up in the crowd. Desperately looking over her shoulder, her last glimpse was of the dark expression of rage that crossed Blackhurst's face.
As he took a step forward, intent on following Angeline, he felt a cold hand with claw-like fingernails in the center of his sun-warmed chest. He shifted his glare sideways into the expectant face of Lady Prunella.
"Je veux manger vipères sucrées, Blackhurst," she said seductively or what passed for seductively, having just informed Blackhurst that she wanted him to eat sugared vipers. He was fairly certain she thought she was offering herself as his virgin sacrifice. At that precise moment, Lord Arthur passed by and Blackhurst grabbed him by his upper arm and thrust him at a surprised Lady Prunella.
"Mettez vos griffes en lui, de ce que je entends qu'il aime harpies autoritaires," Blackhurst stated in perfect French. At Lady Prunella's flirtatious laugh, Blackhurst was convinced she did not have the faintest idea he had just called her an overbearing harpy. The woman really did have to stop posturing about as if she knew French. She was fooling no one, thought Blackhurst as he ran into the entrance of the maze.
Angeline ran blindly along the double-sided evergreen hedge. Lady Shackelton had told the women this was not a puzzle maze, but a walking one, meaning the paths meandered in random fashion. Throughout the maze were hidden nooks and open space areas filled with small trees and flowering bushes. Many had large down-filled pillows and blankets on the grass, others fountains, others suggestive statuary and still others Bacchanal feasts of wine, chocolates and pastries.
Angeline had already passed one such area and was shocked to her core at what she saw. A couple was naked on a blanket and the man was forcing his…his member…into her mouth! Even more scandalous, there were several pairs of lord and ladies drinking wine and feeding each other grapes as they watched. Between the scantily clad women and the horns on the men's heads, it was if they truly were beasts in the woods, thought Angeline.
She ran even faster, determined to find a tiny space in the maze to hide from the primal orgies. Part of her wanted Blackhurst to find and rescue her from this folly, but another part of her worried about what punishment she would receive for disobeying his order to stay safe in her room. Finally, she stumbled upon an unoccupied nook. It was narrow, with just two small birch trees on either end. In between were several large, colorful pillows. Angeline stretched out onto the pillows and buried her head as the tears she'd been trying to hold back began to flow.
"Well, well, well." A voice came from above. "Looks like I caught the juiciest peach of all as my prize."
Angeline blinked up against the sun to see a portly gentlemen she did not recognize standing over her.
Steepling his fingers over his pale, hairy stomach, he ogled her prone form. "Take off your toga. I want you naked and on your knees. I shall enjoy your charms first before sharing you with my eager friends."
Angeline lay frozen in fear, unable to even scream in defense.
"I said remove that idiotic drape," snarled the man as he reached down to grab a handful of her soft curly hair. Angeline screamed and gasped at the sharp pain that shot through her scalp.
"Take your hands off her," growled Blackhurst.
It had taken him far too long to find her. He had searched the entire fucking maze, twice. He prayed to all that was holy that he would never have to see the pale, thrusting ass of a fellow ton member again for the rest of his life. Blackhurst had almost passed this nook, thinking once again he had stumbled upon yet another couple playing maiden and Minotaur.
"Come on Blackhurst," whined the portly lord. "You're not playing by the rules. I caught her. I get to keep her," he said, still keeping a painful grip on Angeline's hair.
Blackhurst moved so he was towering over the much shorter lord. He leaned in close and in a deceptively calm voice said, "I will rip you limb from limb and there isn't a man standing who will stop me."
The portly lord turned even paler and instantly dropped Angeline, stepping away.
"My apologies…my lord…I see you saw the lady first," he simpered as he stumbled away.
"Thank god you arrived! I was so scared!" cried Angeline.
"Silence!" roared Blackhurst.
Grabbing her under the chin, he ground out through clenched teeth, "You disobeyed me."
"Yes, but I didn't really know…" she pleaded.
"No. There are no excuses. I told you to stay in your room and you did not. It is that simple, Angeline. Now say it. Say you disobeyed me."
"I disobeyed you," she responded forlornly.
"I disobeyed you, Papa," he amended.
She lifted slightly reluctant eyes to him but loath to anger him further, she relented. "I disobeyed you, Papa," she repeated.
"Disrobe."
The single command sent a shiver of anxiety and shock through Angeline. "Please, not here…please just take me to my room," she pleaded.
"Do you dare to continue to disobey me?" Blackhurst asked, his voice tinged with menace.
Tearfully, Angeline shook her head. She slowly removed the sash to the toga and began to undrape the fabric. With no undergarments, she was very quickly sitting nude among the pillows. Angeline curled her knees up in an effort to hide her shame.
She watched in confusion as Blackhurst broke off several birch branches. As he stood before her carefully and slowly plucking the small green leaves off each branch, he said, "Lean back on your elbows and spread your knees wide."
Angeline blushed furiously as she looked around, knowing at any moment one of the party guests could happen upon them. "Please don't make me," she pleaded.
Blackhurst's only response was to raise an eyebrow and wait.
Angeline hesitantly leaned back on her elbows and opened her knees, slightly.
"Wider." His tone harsh and demanding in the quiet serenity of the garden setting.
Angeline sobbed and did as he commanded, opening her knees wider, then wider still. She tilted her head back and stared at the white, fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky and tried to imagine anything else but the humiliation of being exposed outdoors to the regard of this fiercely dominant man.
Blackhurst stared down at the pale, cream skin of her inner thigh. He watched the warm yellow glow of sunlight as it danced across her skin, shining light and heat on her sweet cunny. He could still taste her honeyed arousal on his tongue. If he looked closely, he could see a hint of her shimmer from that same arousal now. She may be afraid of her coming punishment and of the mortification of the outdoor setting, but her body still responded to him.
Blackhurst grouped together his handful of birch branches till he had a nice grip. His punishment birch rod was ready.
"Turn over onto your knees," he demanded. "Arch your back with your bottom in the air."
Angeline looked at him incredulously. "What…what are you going to do?" she asked. Her voice barely above a whisper.
"I am going to birch that rebellious bottom of yours."
Angeline tried to scramble back on that same rebellious bottom, but Blackhurst was too quick for her. Grabbing her ankle, he dragged her forward, then flipped her onto her stomach. Angeline started to scream and shout. "You have no right! You have no right!"
"I'm taking the right," he growled before snatching both of her wrists.
Wrapping the sash from her costume around each wrist, he then secured it around the trunk of the birch tree a few feet up from the ground. With her wrists tied to the tree, Angeline was forced into a bent kne
"You will stay on your knees with your bottom up and out, or you will regret it."
Blackhurst remained upright on his knees, close to her side. He took a moment to caress her bare, pale skin.
In a softened voice, he said, "You placed yourself in grave danger, Angeline." He closed his eyes as if to block out the troubling image as he continued. "Had I not reached you in time, I do not want to think how you would have been used by that man and his friends. If I am harsh, it is only to protect you from your own rash foolishness." He buried his other hand in her soft curls as his voice broke with emotion. "You are under my protection. It is my duty to keep you safe and I cannot do that if you disobey me."
"I'm so sorry," sobbed Angeline, tearfully regretting her petulant mood that led her to defy him by leaving her room in the first place.
"I know you are, but you must still be punished," he said in a resigned firm tone. "Know this. I would not punish you if I did not care for you very much, little one."
Once again, he picked up his freshly made birching rod. Raising his arm, he took one last look at the creamy ivory skin of her backside before bringing the handful of branches down.
The burst of jagged, biting pain caught Angeline so by surprise that she choked on her own scream. The sound that escaped was more a gurgling whine. Blackhurst continued to pepper her bottom with slash after relentless slash. Finally, Angeline found her voice and cried out in agony.
"Oh god, it hurts! Please, oh god. Stop…you must…you must," she wept. Her pitiful attempts to avoid the thrashing rod by shifting her hips were thwarted by Blackhurst's restraining hand on her lower back.
"I will stop when my little one's bottom has paid the price for her foolishness."
Angeline's eyes were swollen and blurred with tears. Her palms ached from grasping at the rough bark of the birch tree trunk in a futile attempt to release her bound wrists and somehow save herself from this torment. When he had spanked her in the study, there had least been the intimate contact of his hand spreading an unknown heat as well as pain. It was not the same with the birch rod. The cold detachment of the branches made each stinging contact all the more painful. Her bottom felt as if it was covered with a thousand bite marks. It stung and itched and each excruciating throb made it worse, but still he thrashed her.
As the skin on her bottom reddened and swelled, it stretched and became even more sensitive. Angeline could feel the agonizing scrape of each twig on each branch.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, it hurts. I can't take it. Please!"
Her howling sobs fell on deaf ears. Angeline looked over her shoulder. Sweat glistened on Lord Blackhurst's exposed chest, and with his dark scowl and horns, at that very moment she was convinced he really was the evil, mythic Minotaur, and that this punishment would never end.
Blackhurst did not believe in a set number of spanks and especially did not believe in having little ones count them off. In his mind, it allowed them to pace out the punishment. He felt it was far more effective if the little one had no idea when the punishment was going to end.
Blackhurst looked down at the glowing red bottom of his little angel. The curve of each cheek took the brunt of his lash, each blushing a crimson red. Both showed some horizontal slash marks where a branch scraped her soft, sensitive skin, but it was nothing that would not heal in a day or two. He set down the rod and moved to kneel behind her.
When Angeline saw him out of the corner of a bleary eye putting down the birching rod, she became lightheaded with relief. Sagging against her wrist bindings, she leaned her forehead against the trunk of the tree and cried even harder. Unfortunately, her respite from punishment was short-lived.
Blackhurst placed a large hand on the center of each painfully throbbing globe and squeezed, hard. Angeline's threw her head back with a wail as her back arched. The full contact on her sensitive bottom was almost overwhelming.
"Don't. Don't. Please, god. Don't touch me there!" she besought.
"Mon amorette, I'm going to do far more than touch you," he warned as he relished in the heat radiating from her chastened bottom. Massaging his hands over the smooth curves of her bottom and upper thighs, he ignored her whimpers of distress. "I don't think you thanked me for punishing you, little one."
Angeline sniffed as she tried to take in what he was asking of her. "You can't mean for me to…"
"Thank Papa for your punishment, little one," he said, giving her sore right cheek a pinch.
"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Thank you…Papa."
"For what, little one?" he asked, stroking her raw bottom, giving her left cheek a similar pinch.
"Thank you for my punishment, Papa," she said through fresh tears.
"I believe you can think of a better way of thanking me," Blackhurst said. Forcing his hand between the seam of her bottom cheeks, he rubbed his two middle fingers over her cunny, discovering her secret shame. Despite the pain and humiliation, she was aroused.
"Yes, I do believe you can think of a better way of thanking me since you perhaps enjoyed your punishment a little bit," he said with a hint of amusement as he continued to rub her cunny.
"No, no," she cried. "I don't understand. I didn't like it. I swear. I don't understand."
"It's all right, little one. Papa understands. Now ask Papa very sweetly to fuck you."
"But I'm still tender from last night…and now…I'm stinging from my punishment, I don't want to... to do…that…that," she stammered.
"Little one, this isn't about what you want, it is about what Papa wants. Now ask me nicely to fuck you before I get the birch rod again."
"No, please don't," she sobbed. "Please, Papa, please fuck me."
"That is better. I will make an obedient, little one out of you yet," he said, stroking her soft, curly hair before releasing his cock from his britches.
Blackhurst pushed the broad head of his shaft against her tiny entrance. In the bright sunlight he could see she was still red and puffy from him taking her maidenhead the night before. He watched as her body was forced to accept his cock, feeling her tight heat wrap around him. Slowly driving forward, he did not relent till his hips felt the warmth from her punished backside.
Whimpering and squirming, Angeline took deep breaths as her body strained against his painful entry. "Please, not so far," she simpered. It burned. It felt like he was tearing into her all over again. Would it feel like this every time he took her? She gasped as the ridged head of his cock rubbed along her delicate inner muscles as he pulled free, only to thrust back into her constricted passage.
Blackhurst took a handful of her soft flesh in each hand and spread her bottom wide. Angeline groaned but knew better than to make any further protest. Her sweet cunny entrance was stretched obscenely wide to accommodate the girth of his cock as it pushed and pulled its way into her body. He ran his thumb along the edge, collecting her cream, the evidence of her coerced arousal.
Running his thumb up from her cunny, he circled her small rosebud. It trembled and puckered tight at his touch.
"What…what are you doing?" she asked tremulously.
"Shhh."
Blackhurst moved the pad of his thumb in small circles around her rosebud, softly applying more pressure. The slightly darker pink skin glistened with her own cream. Finally, after pausing with his cock thrust achingly deep inside her, he pressed hard against her hidden entrance till his thumb pushed in to the first knuckle.
Angeline started and tried to pull forward away from his intrusive thumb.
"Stop! Not there!"
Blackhurst ignored her pleas, ramming his thumb in further. Moving it in sweeping circles along the tight muscled rim, he began opening her back entrance.
This pain was different from anything Angeline had experienced so far. The slightest movement of his thumb sent a sharp stabbing pain through her middle.
"Stop. It hurts. My stomach hurts. You must stop. I beg you."
Blackhurst pressed down on his thumb, widening her tight back entrance further as he increased the driving thrusts of his cock. With his free hand, he reached up and grabbed a fistful of her soft hair, pulling hard. Angeline's head snapped back, forcing her whole body to once again painfully arch. The movement pushed her bottom higher in the air, forcing his thumb in deeper. Blackhurst's thrusts came faster and fiercer.
"You will learn to cum only through pain," he snarled against her ear before nipping at it.
His harsh grip on her hair, the sharp cramping feel of his thumb buried deep in her bottom, the bruising pace of his cock as it pummeled her already sore cunny. It was all too much for Angeline. With a scream, the breath left her body in a dizzying rush as a hot band of release snapped. After a few more brutal thrusts, Blackhurst viciously pulled out of her abused cunny and roared his release against her now slightly opened rosebud.
His breath coming in harsh gasps, he warned her, "Do not move. Keep your knees spread open. Papa wants to watch his hot cream as it drips from your bottom hole."
Angeline was too emotionally drained and physically sated to even think of disobeying him.
* * * * *
Sometime later, after Blackhurst had cleaned her up and placed her once more in the now wrinkled-beyond-repair costume, they made their way out of the maze.
Angeline looked up at his handsome profile. "I didn't know," she said softly.
Blackhurst looked down at her sweet, heart-shaped face. "Didn't know what, mon amorette?"
She could still feel the warm heat radiating from her punished bottom as the soft fabric of her costume brushed against it. Angeline twisted her hands in knots, she hesitantly tried to explain. "I was angry when the maid told me I couldn't eat all the fancy things the other guests were and then when she said there was to be this amusement with scandalous costumes in a wonderful maze but I wasn't allowed to attend, I…well…"
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