Back in the summerhouse I sat on the bench and patted my lap. 'Come, Bella dear,' I said. 'Lie over my knee, face down as before.'
'Is it to be another spanking, Jamie?' she asked plaintively.
'No indeed - just the opposite.' I showed her the jar. 'Bosworth's Bum Relief, as it's often called by those with playful natures. It will ease the tingling pain in your bottom.'
She draped herself over my lap as instructed and I proceeded to anoint her delightful posterior. The twin orbs felt decidedly hot to the touch, though the salve would alleviate that somewhat, for this marvellous concoction both cooled and soothed abused flesh. As I gently rubbed it in Bella gave a sigh of relief and relaxed, her thighs parting in unconscious invitation. The sight of her pouting pink labia peeking out from a curly nest proved irresistible. Another fingering was what sprang to mind, this one assuredly to climax.
Wishing to watch her sweet face at the moment of orgasm, I turned her over in my lap and went to work on her in earnest. I stroked her slit with the tip of my middle finger, already well lubricated with Bosworth's, rubbing the delicate folds of her vulva and the nub half-hidden within.
Her eyes were closed as she lay in my arms, sighing enchantingly. I slipped my middle finger inside her, my thumb now assuming responsibility for clitoral stimulation. I brought her on slowly, for such delights should never be rushed. After a time her cheeks and neck flushed prettily, telling me her arousal was proceeding apace. Her clitoris swelled and stiffened, at which point I thumbed it more rapidly. Her lips parted, pink tongue quivering as she began to gasp.
'Ah... ahhh... ahhh...!'
Her vagina and indeed her whole pelvis convulsed, a series of rhythmic pulses my fingers felt distinctly. As these gradually diminished in intensity her hand moved to rest lightly upon my own. I continued to stroke her clitoris, slowly and very gently now, till her orgasm was entirely done.
I held her afterwards, breathing in her wildflower perfume and relishing the feel of her in my arms. I was drawn to her in a way that made no sense at all, yet was undeniable. Though we'd known each other but a very short time, I felt closer to this young woman than to any other in my life.
All too soon drifting clouds dimmed the sun and cast a shadow over our refuge. Something changed then, and Bella shivered, as though she felt it too.
'I think we must soon go up to the house, my dear,' I said.
'I know that, Jamie,' she said disconsolately, sitting up on my lap and then rising reluctantly to her feet. She picked up the red mask and put it on, tying the ribbon in a bow at the back of her head. 'It was foolish of me to think I could escape my fate. No one can help me now, for wicked Lord Newburn and the rest will surely have their way with me.'
So despondent and forsaken did she sound my heart went out to her. She'd begged me to rescue her, at the start, and rescue her I would. 'They won't harm you, Bella,' I said with grim determination, 'you have my word on it.'
I put my cloak about her once more and we left our sanctuary, circling to approach the house from the rear. My mare remained back in the trees, for she would only draw attention. My aim was to find a servant who could show me to the guest quarters, where I would deposit Bella before setting out in search of my host. Once I'd found him I would explain the situation and try to resolve matters, hopefully to everyone's satisfaction. One thing I would not do was hand her over with no assurances as to her safety.
'Courage, my dear,' I murmured. 'Stay close to me and do exactly as I say.'
Chapter 2
We'd almost reached the kitchen door when it swung back and a man stepped out. From his attire it was evident he was a gentleman, and evident too that he'd been watching from a window, for he showed no surprise at seeing us there. Bella, on my left, pressed close to me.
'It's wicked Lord Newburn!' she gasped, seizing hold of my arm and clinging tightly.
He didn't look particularly wicked, I have to say. He was a short, stocky fellow a year or two older than myself, with an open, honest face that presently wore a beaming smile. 'So you found her at last,' he said in a friendly tone as we drew close. 'We've been searching high and low. Well done, sir... though I don't believe I know your name.'
'James Montague, my lord, at your service,' I said, with a short bow.
He held out his hand and we shook. I apologised for my late arrival, explaining about the thrown horseshoe.
'These things happen,' he said. 'Just glad you made it here safe and sound. Where did you find our escapee, by the way?'
'In the rhododendrons, my lord,' I said. 'After that we spent an hour or so in the summerhouse, as Bella was chilled.'
He seemed somewhat nonplussed at my words, possibly wondering why I would take her there rather than to the house itself, but he recovered his composure quickly enough. 'Bella was, was she?' he said with a twinkle in his eye. 'Serves Bella damn right, I say, for breaking the rules. You warmed her up, I take it?'
'As best I could,' I said, dismayed to feel myself blushing.
He gave me a knowing look, then turned to the young woman standing meek and silent beside me, still holding fast to my arm. 'And what does Bella have to say for herself, eh? No going outside - those were your strict instructions, madam, were they not? No wonder we couldn't find you. Our most honoured guest Percy has been on hands and knees peering under the beds, which is hardly a dignified occupation for a duke's son and heir, is it? Jasper said you must have sneaked out, but I assured them you would never break hunt rules. They'll think me a prize chump now, won't they?'
Though his tone was bantering rather than bullying, Bella seemed to shrink as he admonished her. She pressed even closer to me, if such a thing were possible.
'Well,' he added, 'thanks to our new guest you're back in the fold, so now you must pay for your misdeeds: six of the best from every man present. With Mr Montague that comes to three dozen altogether - and no complaining, for you only have yourself to blame, you hear?'
Head hung in shame or fear, Bella made no reply, though a faint moan escaped her lips.
'I'm sorry, my lord,' I said, 'but I cannot allow that. This young woman is under my protection.'
My host stared at me as though I were a madman, then unexpectedly threw back his head and roared with laughter. I stiffened, jealous of my honour and angry he should consider the notion derisory. If he believed me too far beneath him to offer her any such thing, he was in for a rude awakening.
'Your protection, sir?' he spluttered.
'Yes indeed,' I said coldly, drawing myself up to full height, for I topped him by a good six inches. 'No harm shall befall Bella while I am under your roof. Should you order me to leave, then I will take her with me. I'm sorry if this inconveniences you, my lord, but even a member of your staff may seek the protection of a gentleman, should she fear for her safety.'
'My staff,' he said, more calmly now, though the laughter still twinkled in his eyes. 'Yes, I see. You haven't been introduced to this particular young woman, of course.'
'No, my lord, I haven't had that honour.'
'Then with your permission, I shall do so now. Mr Montague, allow me to present to you my wife, Lady Newburn, though I feel sure she'll wish you to call her by her given name - Belinda. And to you, my dear, I introduce Mr James Montague, whom I recommend unreservedly. He is clearly your most devoted and steadfast protector.'
For a moment I was too shocked to speak. Lady Newburn? His wife, for God's sake? It wasn't possible; the man was jesting with me. No lady would allow herself to be dealt with in such a base fashion, and by a complete stranger to boot.
'My protector indeed,' she said softly, stretching up to kiss me on the cheek.
I stared at her, seeing only easy assurance and a tranquil smile. Anxious, timid Bella was gone, leaving calm, self-assured Belinda in her place. As greatly as I might wish to deny it the truth was all too plain to see; this was indeed Lady Newburn. Which meant... oh God! I'd just spanked and fucked the wife of a peer of the realm!
; 'Now that the lost has been found,' Lord Newburn said, 'I'll go and round up our guests. They're scattered all over the damn house at present, searching every nook and cranny, and no doubt muttering darkly about their host's laxity in slave training. I'd be obliged if you would take my wife to the lounge, Mr Montague, to await her richly deserved fate.'
He went back into the house, shaking his head and chuckling, whilst I turned to the woman beside me. She had tricked me. She'd made a monumental fool of me, in fact. I'd ridden heroically to the 'rescue' like some vainglorious knight of old, oblivious to the fact that the damsel who fled from the dragon was actually the dragon's willing bride. I had every right to feel outraged, for to treat an invited guest, a stranger, in such a humiliating fashion was low indeed. I felt my chest tighten as righteous indignation took the place of my initial shock.
'My behaviour was entirely unacceptable, Mr Montague,' she said, anticipating and immediately forestalling any protestations on my part, 'and I apologise unreservedly. My husband rebukes me often for my mischievous sense of humour.'
'Not at all, Lady Newburn,' I said stiffly. 'There's absolutely no need to apologise. The fault was entirely mine for making such gross and clearly erroneous assumptions.'
'If you'd call me Belinda,' she said, 'I might persuade myself I'm forgiven. Not that I deserve such swift clemency, for despite your gentlemanly attempt to take the blame, it was a cruel trick I played on you, sir. Perhaps my punishment will help make amends.'
'Your punishment, Lady New... ah, Belinda?'
'Indeed, sir. My husband's amusement was at my shameful antics, I do assure you, not at your discomfiture. For the latter he'll certainly insist that you punish me. I could hope for another over-the-knee spanking, though perhaps I add insult to injury in wishing for leniency. Whatever you decide upon, my earnest desire is that you'll conclude it as you did my paddling in the summerhouse. If all punishments ended in such a fervent fashion, many more women might aspire to the life of a slave. Not that every gentleman possesses your wonderful skills in that regard, Mr Montague, nor indeed your kind consideration in employing them.'
I felt my anger and resentment ebbing away under that gracious, insistent assault. My grandfather had warned me - kindly, it's true, though a valid warning it remained - that many gentlemen would consider my sentimentality towards beautiful women a character flaw. He was right, of course, but it was a defect I seemed unable to rectify. On this occasion, try as I might, I simply couldn't sustain my pique whilst looking into those remarkable green eyes.
'What is this "Mr Montague", pray?' I said, affecting sternness, the closest I could bring myself to admonishing her. 'I thought we'd agreed you were to call me Jamie?'
A radiant smile lit up her lovely face, destroying any last vestige of resentment in my mind. I knew in that instant I could forgive this woman anything.
'So we did,' she said. 'And will you truly be my stalwart protector, Jamie, as you were to poor Bella?'
'Assuredly,' I said, surrendering utterly, 'though that won't prevent me spanking you, Belinda. Your punishment, though not harsh, will certainly be protracted. It will be followed by even lengthier clitoral stimulation. The choice of finger or tongue, I leave to my beautiful hostess.'
She laughed delightedly, linking her arm in mine and steering me towards the door. 'I can see I'll have to trick you often, Jamie,' she said. 'Would twice a day be too much, do you think?'
I had to smile. 'To spank you and bring you to climax? As often as you would wish, dear lady... just as often as you wish.'
-oOo-
We hope you've enjoyed this little taster of B. A. Bradbury's erotic writings, and if you've not yet read the complete spanking exploits of James Montague you can do so in Obliged to Bend, Their Master's Pleasure, and Hard Strokes - all published as eBooks by us and available to download from numerous online bookstores and online libraries now...
Obliged to Bend
The governess stepped in front of the girl and took hold of her hands as requested. The two of them were now standing face to face, and I stood at Victoria's left side.
'Are you ready, Mrs Hammond?' I asked.
I saw her take a firm grip on Victoria's hands. 'I am, sir.'
'And you, Victoria? Are you quite ready?'
'Yes, uncle.'
'Very well. We will begin.'
I took careful aim and delivered a crisp whack to the upper curve of Victoria's buttocks. She let out a little gasp and her hips pushed forward. I waited for her pale skin to flush - a pink band across the tops of her twin mounds.
I wondered if Victoria grasped the significance of this moment. She had just crossed a major watershed in her life, having moved from the ranks of the un-spanked to those of the spanked. Life for her would never be the same...
It is the winter of 1896, and the happiest man in England is surely James Montague. Following the death of a distant cousin, the bachelor finds himself owner of a large estate, and guardian to three nubile young women: Cathy, Victoria and Elizabeth. A lifelong disciplinarian, James has fiendish plans for his wards - plans that involve his impressive collection of canes, straps, paddles and whips. The staff must also submit to the new master's will, as maids Alice and Rose soon discover to their cost.
To help him achieve his nefarious ends, James appoints a new governess: beautiful and buxom Irene Hammond, herself a devotee of the art of correction. Given sole charge of Willie the hallboy and Jack the stableboy, Irene is in seventh heaven, blissfully unaware that James has secret plans for her too!
With Irene's assistance, first Victoria then Cathy fall prey to their guardian's scheming, and feel the sting of tawse and paddle on tender young flesh. Now only the clever and lovely Elizabeth eludes his grasp... but for how much longer can she hold out?
The Master's Pleasure
'Keep your wrist loose, Jamie,' my grandfather said. 'A supple wrist is the key to good control, remember.'
I nodded, concentrating hard, wanting to please him. My grandfather's approval was the most important thing in the world to me and I was mindful of his instructions - thumb uppermost, grip firm but not too tight, wrist loose.
'Eye on the target, Jamie-boy,' he said. 'Are you watching the target?'
'Yes, sir.' The target in question was a pair of round, creamy-white buttocks belonging to Nell, one of my grandfather's maids, who was presently touching her toes - with skirts drawn up to her waist and drawers down to her ankles - in the middle of his study.
Lowly maids in Victorian England, whose lives are an endless round of unremitting toil, must surely dream of better things - yet more pitiful by far is the plight of those unfortunate souls who find themselves in the service of a strict disciplinarian. James Montague is a man who delights in watching young women writhe and squirm... seeing creamy-white buttocks turn first pink, then red, then purple... hearing gasps of dismay turn to shrill cries of anguish.
And maids are not alone in feeling the hot kiss of cane and strap, for James' three wards - innocent Catherine, flirtatious Victoria and lovely, spirited Elizabeth - are obliged to bare their bottoms with distressing regularity. A visit by James' godson Frederick merely adds to their woes, for the young man wishes to study the noble art of spanking... and who better to teach him than the stern master of Bleekston Hall?
Hard Strokes
I saw her gather herself. I drew back my arm and swiped her hard across the buttocks, the crack of leather against flesh loud in the still room. She flinched at the blow, but made not a sound. Brave though she assuredly was I knew she wouldn't remain silent for long, since a heavy tawse wielded with conviction will test the mettle of even the most courageous. Silence would give way to gasps, and gasps to groans, though it would go no further than that. There would be no shrieking and certainly no blubbering, for my governess was made of sterner stuff.
Obliged To Bend introduced James Montague, Victorian gentleman of leisure and master spanker. Their Master's Pleasure described his continuing adventures. Now,
in Hard Strokes, comes the concluding part of James's story.
With his sweet young wards, their governess Irene Hammond and a houseful of maids in need of constant discipline, life for James has grown rather hectic. Cane, strap and paddle have never been busier, in fact, yet he cannot afford to relax, for fresh victims soon arrive on the scene - women from the village guilty of various misdemeanours, his former maid-of-all-work, Polly, and a beautiful but rash young woman who foolishly tries to rob him. Has the master of Bleekston Hall bitten off more than he can chew, or will his strong right arm rise to the challenge?
-oOo-
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The Rescue Page 2