by Zoe Blake
"You thought I was denying you a grand adventure," Blackhurst helpfully finished.
"Yes," she responded forlornly.
He caught her chin and looked deep into her troubled blue eyes. "My sweet little angel, the very last thing in this world I want to do is deny you pleasure. You have given my life new purpose. Watching as your body learns to respond to my touch, as you come to terms with your need to experience the pinch of pain to reach the true intensity of a release. Knowing it is I who will be responsible for your care and discipline. Trust me, little one, it is not my aim to deny you a grand adventure but to be your grand adventure!" he said with a smile as he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
Angeline blushed prettily. After the haze of pleasure had waned, leaving only the throbbing pain of her punished bottom, she had begun to worry he would consider her too much of a bother for disobeying him. Each time he had disciplined her it had been for her own good, she realized, to save her from harm and from her own thoughtless inclinations. When he was not punishing her, he was wonderful and charming and so…so…she didn't even have the words to describe how he made her feel. All she knew was her whole world tilted when he was near.
* * * * *
On the way through the hedge tunnel, they passed another partially secluded nook. Angeline's eyes grew wide as she saw the elegant Lady Shackelton naked on her knees much as she had just been. Behind her, looking every inch the beast-like Minotaur was Lord Fairfax.
"Brace yourself, Maddie my dear. It's time to test that loosened arsehole of yours."
"Please, no, Duncan, it won't fit!" begged Lady Shackelton, rather unconvincingly.
Lord Fairfax immediately gave her a stinging slap to her bottom, leaving a large angry hand print. "You don't say 'no' to me," he said, pushing his hips forward.
Lady Shackelton's pleasured scream was her only response.
Blackhurst ushered her away before she could see anymore.
"Yet another adventure you will soon experience, little one," he whispered into her ear.
Angeline did not know whether to be excited or afraid.
Chapter Eight - A Lesson In Swallowing
Blackhurst dropped Angeline off at her rooms with very strict instructions to rest for the remainder of the day. She did not dare defy him, not even when the same maid from the morning returned at luncheon with a tray of cucumber sandwiches and sliced fruit with a glass of milk. Angeline did not so much as murmur, though she knew the rest of the guests were probably dining on much more luxurious fare in the dining room.
Angeline dutifully stayed in her room, napping and doing needlework till it was time to take her bath and prepare for dinner. Tonight was the night of the formal dinner. Having, of course, only heard the fanciful tales of such dinners, Angeline could not wait to see all the silver plates, candelabras, flowers and fancy dishes for herself.
She chose the best gown out of the ones provided by Lady Herrington, although that was a relative term. This one was of wintergreen satin with pink lace trimming. The bodice was a bit large, but Angeline was hoping with some cinching she could make it work.
The only thing she had not done was dwell on the events of earlier. Her grandmama used to say that her mother was a lot of things, but a deep thinker was not one of them. She said it was why her mother had gotten into so much trouble. Angeline thought it was why her mother had so many adventures and so much passion in her life. Her mother did not bother with "why"; she just went with her heart. If she thought too deeply of the conflicting emotions Blackhurst aroused in her, it might ruin her adventure. Whether it made her an evil wicked girl or not, she did not care. So far, the pleasure she had received at his hands had far outweighed if not been enhanced by the pain.
* * * * *
Blackhurst knew the moment she entered the room that his little angel was once again wearing an awful, inappropriate gown. While the color was at least a bit more flattering, it dwarfed her small frame and showed far too much of her bosom for his taste. He patted the pocket of his dinner jacket. Inside was the note brought by messenger an hour earlier – a note from his butler saying all was in readiness. He would spirit Angeline away from this house party to his estate at first light tomorrow. He should have done it the moment after taking her maidenhead but he was loath to introduce her to his household without the nursery set up and nanny properly installed. He did not want Angeline to have any misconceptions about her position in his home. Never mind. The wait was finally over. He had only to get through this final night and then he would have her safely tucked away on his estate.
Blackhurst motioned for Angeline to join him at his side. He was pleased when she instantly demurred. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. He would never get used to those deep, midnight blue eyes. She was so achingly beautiful.
"Good evening, mon amorette," he said in hushed tones.
Angeline blushed. She shamelessly loved his pet name for her: my little love.
"How is your pert little bottom? Not too sore I hope?"
Her cheeks flamed hotter as she quickly glanced about her to see if their conversation was being observed.
"You need not concern yourself with anyone else, little one," Blackhurst admonished. "Only I matter."
Angeline thought for a moment and realized it was true. None of the other guests had made the slightest impression on her. From the moment she had laid eyes on him, she was drawn to Lord Blackhurst. It seemed as if he was the focus of all the charged energy in the room.
"Answer me."
"It is still sore," she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"It is still sore, Papa," she corrected.
"Good girl," he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Tonight at dinner, you are only permitted a few sips of wine with the duck course and again with the roast boar. Do you understand?"
"But…" she began to complain.
"No. I will hear no argument on this, Angeline. Protocol demands that I sit at the head of the table. You must be at the other end. I do not want to have to worry about you drinking. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she grumbled then immediately corrected. "Yes, Papa."
Lady Shackelton's butler rang the dinner gong and they filed into dinner. Angeline last on the arm of Lord George, as she had no rank.
While at first enchanted, as the long dinner stretched on with its infinite courses, Angeline started to squirm in her seat, her painful punished bottom starting to ache.
"I know that look," chimed in Lord George with good humor.
"I'm sorry?" asked Angeline, confused and slightly embarrassed.
"No need to look ashamed, especially at this event, eh, I've had my fair share of red backsides!" he chortled.
Angeline's cheeks flamed at the intimate talk.
"Drink wine. Helps dull the pain," he offered.
"Really?" Angeline glanced far down the long table at Blackhurst, who was deep in conversation with some lord or other. Perhaps an extra sip or two she thought. He probably wouldn't even notice.
* * * * *
She disobeyed him, again.
Blackhurst motioned for a footmen. He instructed the servant to call for his carriage and to retrieve one particular item from his rooms. It was a testament to Lady Shackelton's staff that the servant did not flinch at the unusual requests during a formal dinner. He then leaned over and quietly gave his excuses to Lady Shackelton. She spared a worried glance towards the poor girl who was gaily chatting, blissfully unaware of the wrath headed her way.
All eyes were on the handsome and obviously angry lord as he rose and stalked to the end of the long dining room table. Angeline had no warning. Suddenly wrenched out of her chair by a strong, vise-like grip around her upper arm, Angeline was pulled out of the dining room and into the main hall before she could utter a word.
"My lord, what is…what is happening? Where are you taking me?" she squealed.
Sparing her not even a glance, Blackhurst dragged A
"Stop! Where are we going?"
"I am taking you to my estate - something I should have done last night," he stated with brutal detachment.
"You can't!"
"I can."
Angeline did not have the capacity to argue with such a commanding lord, let alone one as angry as he. She had one last defense. "But my things! My clothes!"
"I will buy you new things, and those are not your clothes."
Blackhurst looked down at the awful dress she was wearing, yet one more reminder of her initial intentions in attending this illicit house party. His wrath was, of course, irrational since her actions had led to his meeting her, but in that very moment, he was in no mood to be rational. Grasping the bodice with one large hand, he viciously tore downward. The inexpensive satin shredded under his harsh grip.
Angeline screamed, desperately trying to hold together the tattered remains of her dress as the footmen looked on in shock. Blackhurst ripped the gown from her grasp and kicked it away. Angeline was left in only her thin chemise, corset and pantalets.
Opening the door of his carriage, he tossed her onto the plush seat. Settling himself in the opposite seat, Lord Blackhurst secured the door and rapped on the roof, and the carriage lurched forward. Silence stretched for several moments. Angeline studied him through her wide-eyed gaze in the dim lantern lit interior.
"You disobeyed me, again." His voice sounded like a whip lash in the tense quiet interior.
"I didn't!" she protested.
"I specifically ordered you to restrict yourself to no more than a few sips of wine. You disobeyed me."
"Yes, but, Lord George said…" she began.
"Oh, so Lord George is to be trusted? Lord George is the one seeing to your care? Lord George is to be obeyed over me?" he roared.
"No," she squeaked.
"I didn't hear you."
"No," she said a tiny bit louder.
"I still didn't hear you." The menace in his voice unmistakable.
Finally, realizing her error, Angeline whispered, "No, Papa."
"On your knees," he growled.
"Papa?"
"On your knees," he yelled. Angeline fell to her knees in the small space between the seats on the floor of the carriage.
Blackhurst reached into his pocket and pulled out the one object he asked to be retrieved from his rooms. The rest of his belongings his valet would pack and send along later. It was a polished metal ring about an inch in diameter. Attached to either side were soft strips of leather. He gripped her chin and tilted her head back so he could look into her midnight blue eyes. In the muted light of the carriage they appeared a fathomless black.
"Open your mouth."
Angeline whimpered but submitted. He forced the metal ring into her mouth, just past her front teeth, knotting the leather straps behind her neck. Untying his cravat, he quickly secured her wrists behind her back. Angeline whined and pleaded as she tried to form words past the awkward gag.
Blackhurst took a moment to look at her tiny mouth with its pink lips stretched obscenely wide over the mouth ring, the tip of her small tongue darting in and out as it explored the foreign object. Her large, beautiful eyes implored with him to remove it.
"Since you seem to have a hard time understanding what you are and are not allowed to swallow, I thought a lesson would be in order," he said as he stroked her downy cheek, the gentle gesture at odds with his ominous declaration.
Blackhurst pulled out his erect cock. If possible, Angeline's eyes grew wider. In their limited experience she had actually not really gotten a good look at his member. She would now get a look and taste, already knowing full well the feel. It was hard to imagine something so long and wide could have fit inside of her body; it was over eight inches and looked to still be growing!
"Time to take my cock down that tiny throat of yours, little one."
Shimmying back on her knees, she started to shake her head as she made incoherent sounds. Blackhurst reached over and palmed the back of her head with his large hand, easily compelling her forward.
Angeline screwed her eyes shut and made a simpering mewling sound as Blackhurst fed her the bulbous head of his cock. Her tongue swirled around, trying to push it out. It felt soft and spongy, yet hard. She felt the outer ridge with the bottom of her tongue - the part she could always feel tight inside her cunny as he thrust into her. She rolled her tongue again feeling the softer underside, tasting the salty muskiness of him.
"Good girl. Now keep your tongue still. Papa is going to push deeper into your throat," he warned. Shifting his hips forward, his shaft slipped unrestricted further into her open mouth. Angeline's chest convulsed as she made a gurgling sound, fighting for breath. Desperately pulling against his restraining hand, she tried to push her head back. His cock filled her mouth, the wide shaft pressing down on her tongue, the bulging tip pushing against the back of her throat cutting off her air.
Blackhurst kept a firm grip for another moment before relenting. He pulled free. Angeline fell forward, choking gulps of air into her lungs. Blackhurst tightened his grip on the back of her head by grabbing her now ruined chignon.
He once again tilted her head back. Looking down into her tear-streaked cheeks, he said, "Take a deep breath."
Panicked, she tried to shake her head but couldn't before he drove his cock into her mouth again. Moving his hips back and forth, he pulsed the head of his shaft in short thrusts, hitting sensitive nerves at the back of her throat.
Angeline's jaw ached from trying to close her mouth over the metal ring. The underside of her tongue felt cut from where it pressed against her teeth. The back of her throat felt tender and swollen, the muscles tired from contracting.
Blackhurst could feel her resistance weakening. Now was the time to push deep into her throat. He did not believe in doing things by short measure. Her first lesson in pleasuring his cock with her mouth would be a complete lesson. She would learn to take his whole cock from the start. It was the only acceptable way.
He pulled out of her mouth to give her a chance to catch her breath. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and the spittle from her chin. Brushing the hair from her eyes, he thought she never looked more beautiful. Kneeling before him, her mouth open and awaiting his pleasure, her lips red and swollen from servicing his cock.
"Papa is very proud of you so far," he said. Fresh tears appeared in her eyes at his soothing, coaxing voice. "You have only taken a few inches of my cock into your mouth. You need to take the whole length down that pretty throat of yours."
Angeline started to shake her head vigorously. Her head buzzed with conflicting emotions. As frightened as she was, she knew deep in her heart he was only angry at her disobedience and thought to teach her a lesson. Papa would not harm her. What truly confused Angeline was her reaction to his harsh lesson.
She loved how helpless and overpowered she felt as he forced himself down her throat. The harder he bent her to his will the fiercer her response. Her mind screamed that it was wrong to feel this way, she tried to fight against her body's rising reaction.
"You have no choice, little one. Now it will feel like you cannot breathe, but you must trust me." Angeline felt an unwanted thrill at his heated words.
Blackhurst forced his cock into her mouth. In that moment, he vowed never to let a day pass without feeling the warm, wet clasp of her small mouth around his cock. The innocent movements of her tongue as it discovered the taste and feel of him. The vibrations her sobs and choking sent up his shaft. He pushed the top of her head down and forward with his left hand as he held the soft length of her neck with his right. He wanted to feel the outline of his cock as it passed down her throat.
Blackhurst prodded the tip against the back of her throat. Using more pressure, he broke through her body's natural reflexes and forced his way deeper into her throat. The tight clenching heat with which her throat held his cock as he slowly pressed further almost unmanned him.
Her throat felt like it was on fire. She couldn't breathe. Twisting and wrenching her arms, she tried to free her wrists from his tied cravat instinctively wanting to fight him off.
"Cease!" he thundered. Angeline immediately stilled, her fear of him overriding her need for breath.
After a few powerful thrusts, he pulled out, allowing her a gasping breath before plunging deep again, crushing her nose against his abdomen.
"That's it baby, swallow Papa's cock, take it all," he ground out.
Changing the position of his hands, he held onto the sides of her head. "You're going to finish Papa off now," he warned before forcing her head up and down onto his cock with increasing speed.
Angeline was powerless as he ruthlessly used her mouth for his own needs.
Blackhurst grabbed the base of his cock and pulled completely free of her tortured throat. Throwing his head back, the muscles in his neck bulged as he let out a satisfied roar of completion that shook the small confines of the carriage. While placing his free hand on her forehead, he looked deep into her eyes as she felt something warm hit her tongue.
"Don't swallow yet," he commanded. "That is Papa's cum. I want you to taste it as it melts on your tongue."
Angeline felt the creamy, salty mouthful slowly slip down her raw throat. All the while, Blackhurst watched.
"Good girl." He removed the mouth ring and her wrist binds.
Angeline buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
"Are you crying because I punished you," he asked, "or because you enjoyed it?"
Angeline started to sob harder. She could hardly face the truth of her shameful reaction to his use of her mouth let alone the knowledge that he was aware of her arousal!
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