Slave of Darkness

by Francesca Lewis

  ‘How dare you?’ she heard Sir Edward say as he fell to his knees, and then his hands were stretching Tabitha’s legs apart and his fingers moved rapidly in and out of her sex, causing her to gasp and groan. ‘You’re a disgrace... a disgrace,’ he muttered, adding a third finger, and Tabitha whimpered helplessly.

  Glancing down, Marianne could see the blond boy had a massive erection, which had sprung free from his tattered trousers.

  Sir Edward continued to work between Tabitha’s thighs until every tendon in the girl’s body tautened. Her hips ceased moving and she became strangely still in what was clearly a prelude to a massive climax. It seemed Sir Edward knew this, too, because he abruptly withdrew his fingers and Marianne heard Tabitha give a pathetic wail of distress.

  Marianne felt like crying out as well. She, too, was perched on the edge of sexual release, her thighs clenched firmly together. But then, as abruptly as they’d appeared, the spectral figures disappeared and Marianne was alone once more. She wanted to cry.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Sandra, sounding concerned. Marianne blushed with embarrassment, not knowing what to say.

  ‘Here’s the coffee,’ called Steve, walking in through the door. ‘I’ve brought cream and sugar; I wasn’t sure who took what.’ He looked at the three of them, clearly sensing an atmosphere. ‘Is anything wrong?’

  ‘I think your wife may be unwell,’ said Sandra awkwardly.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ gasped Marianne, dabbing perspiration from her top lip. ‘Just a sudden pain.’

  ‘Aspirin and a hot water bottle might help,’ suggested Sandra.

  Steve frowned, but kept silent, and for the rest of the evening Marianne tried desperately to be a good hostess. She thought she’d succeeded, because when Sandra and Graham left they seemed genuinely sorry to go and promised to return the invitation before too long.

  ‘You’d never have behaved like that in London,’ accused Steve the moment the front door was shut. ‘You were a disgrace. Half the time you weren’t even listening to a word that was being said.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ apologised Marianne. ‘I know my mind kept wandering, but it’s the book.’

  ‘The new one?’ Marianne nodded. ‘Then the sooner you get it finished, the better. Luckily Sandra and Graham didn’t seem to notice, or else they think you’re always like that. It’s amazing what writers can get away with. And what’s all this business about a stomach ache?’

  ‘It wasn’t true,’ she admitted.

  ‘Well what was the matter, then?’

  She didn’t know what to say. ‘I’ve missed you so much, I ached for you,’ she said at last. For the first time since she’d known him, Steve looked flustered.

  ‘Come off it!’

  ‘It’s true,’ she insisted. ‘I couldn’t wait for them to go. Here, feel how damp I am.’ She pulled his nearest hand between her thighs.

  ‘Well, we’d better go upstairs,’ said Steve hastily.

  Marianne shook her head. ‘No, I want to do it here.’

  ‘Here? It won’t be very comfortable.’

  ‘I don’t care! I don’t want to be comfortable. I want it to be different.’ As she was talking she started tearing off her clothes. Within seconds, she was naked and ran her hands provocatively over her rigid nipples. ‘Quickly,’ she urged.

  Steve undressed as fast as he could, but then he didn’t seem to know what to do and stood hesitantly in front of her, looking about for a suitable place where they could make love.

  Marianne pressed her body against his. ‘I want you to hurt me,’ she whispered.

  ‘W-what on earth are you talking about?’ he stammered.

  ‘I want a change,’ she said urgently. ‘Let’s do it differently. You can tie me up if you want to.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  Marianne felt like screaming. The sight of Tabitha being tormented as she lay across the back of the muscular young man had turned her on to the point where she was sure she’d explode the moment Steve touched her. But she needed the same sense of fear and erotic domination she’d felt in the room. ‘Please,’ she begged him.

  Steve looked helpless. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he confessed.

  Marianne grabbed his hands, pulling them to her breasts. ‘Squeeze me hard,’ she urged him. ‘Pinch my nipples.’

  ‘Won’t that hurt?’

  ‘That’s what I want. Don’t ask questions, just do it. Please, Steve.’

  His fingers closed around her flesh, but it didn’t feel the way she wanted it to. Steve’s heart wasn’t in it, she knew that. She understood why, but she needed more than he was giving her if she was to climax. She laid herself over the arms of the chair in as close an approximation as she could of the scene with Tabitha. She felt her body stretch tight, just as Tabitha’s had, and the ache in the pit of her stomach increased, while moisture seeped from her opening. ‘Take me,’ she begged, spreading her legs. ‘Hurry... hurry...’

  It was clear Steve was very aroused. His initial wariness had disappeared and his erection was impressive. Although he thrust firmly inside her he still wasn’t tormenting her breasts enough. He still wasn’t causing her even minor discomfort, let alone the strange but exhilarating sensation of pain she’d experienced when she’d been trapped in the study with Sir Edward and his sister.

  ‘Is this what you wanted?’ he gasped, his hips slamming against hers, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t enough. Her body was responding, the pleasure was very near, but although it built steadily she found she simply couldn’t climax and writhed helplessly beneath him, wishing there was something she could do to herself to topple her body over the edge of the abyss.

  ‘I’m coming,’ Steve grunted, and within seconds he was shuddering violently above her, his face twisted with passion. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that she was going to be left in this state of sexual tension with no one to help her, and as Steve slumped to the floor she heard herself give a tiny wail of despair, similar to the sound she’d heard Tabitha make.

  As she was about to sit upright she was astonished to feel Steve’s fingers between her thighs and gave a sigh of delight as he thrust two fingers inside her and began to move them in and out, just as she’d seen Sir Edward do earlier. ‘Yes...’ she cried. ‘That’s right, that’s exactly right, don’t stop.’

  He didn’t stop. In fact, unbelievably, he added an extra finger and now he was hurting her. She was too full and his fingers were rough inside her until she started to whimper, but even as she did so the delicious sparks of impending orgasm darted through her. When his other hand gripped her breast and his fingers dug savagely into the flesh, the combination of sensations finally allowed her to come with a shuddering moan, and she could have wept with relief as the terrible tension drained from her body to leave her satisfied and replete.

  ‘God, that was good,’ she murmured. ‘How did you know what to do?’

  ‘I just followed my instincts,’ Steve murmured.

  Marianne looked down at her lover. He was lying on the carpet with his arms spread out and his eyes closed. At that moment she realised the truth. They hadn’t been Steve’s hands at all. They had been Sir Edward’s. Somehow he’d been there with her and Steve and, understanding her needs better than her lover, he’d given her satisfaction in the way he liked to, a way she was starting to crave.

  ‘What were you saying just now?’ asked Steve sleepily. ‘I didn’t quite catch it.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Marianne quietly, as she started to put her clothes on. Now the pleasure had gone she was very frightened.

  It seemed that the past and the present were beginning to mix and she had no control at all over what happened. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to be this way. She wanted to keep her two lives separate, but she guessed that if Sir Edward’s wishes were different from hers then h
is would prevail. He was the one deciding how often she saw him, and she sensed his need for her was as great as hers for him. She wondered how she was going to cope, how she could present a façade of normality if he intended to continue intruding on her modern life. ‘Please wait for me to come to you,’ she whispered beneath her breath. ‘Don’t involve Steve. I’ll be back with you as soon as I can.’

  No one answered because no one was there, but she was filled with a peculiar sensation of well being tinged with fear. She guessed this was how Marianne Clifford had spent most of her days at Moorhead House.

  Chapter 4

  Marianne found the next few days very difficult. Encouraged by her behaviour on his first night back, Steve had instigated several sessions of lovemaking where he’d attempted mild bondage games, but they merely increased Marianne’s frustration. In truth, she would have preferred it if Steve had stuck to his usual routine, because compared with what she’d seen and indeed experienced at Sir Edward’s hands, the things she and Steve were doing were so tame as to be almost laughable. As a result, despite regular orgasms, she felt constantly frustrated and on edge, both her body and her mind yearning as much for the atmosphere as for the acts her journeys to the past brought about.

  She was relieved when it was time for Steve to leave again, although he made it plain that he’d far rather remain at Moorhead House. ‘You were right about this place,’ he said as he kissed her goodbye. ‘It’s definitely good for you. You’re a changed woman.’

  Marianne didn’t know what to say. ‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ she murmured.

  ‘I don’t think so. Mind you, it’s a good job I’m going. It’s time you got back to that book of yours. I must have a look at it when I get home.’

  Once he’d gone Marianne roamed around the house, walking in and out of each room, hoping for the light to grow dim – the only visible sign she ever had that a transformation was about to take place. After an hour or so she was forced to accept that it wasn’t going to happen and decided to get down to her writing.

  A couple of hours later, her fingers aching from the speed with which she’d been typing, she decided to go for a walk on the moors. She needed a break and it was a lovely day. Pausing only to collect a light jacket as protection against the wind, she locked the front door carefully behind her and set out along the track that led from a small gate at the back of the rear garden straight on to the moors.

  She supposed she’d been walking for about ten minutes when she heard strange sounds coming from a dip in the ground nearby. Suddenly nervous and aware how vulnerable she was, she started back towards the house, then stopped in her tracks as she heard a familiar girl’s voice crying out with pleasure. She knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was Tabitha she was hearing. Intrigued, and with a sudden surge of hope, she decided to investigate.

  Leaving the path she walked as quietly as she could over the heather until, suddenly, her feet slipped from under her and she toppled down into a small hollow, sheltered from the wind.

  Shocked by the tumble, she sat up, rubbing at her left arm, which she’d struck on a stone. Immediately she began to tremble with excitement as she felt rough woollen fabric beneath her fingers instead of her windcheater.

  ‘We weren’t doing nothing miss,’ cried a girl’s voice, and Tabitha was scrambling to her feet, desperately trying to fasten the buttons of her blouse. ‘Please don’t tell on me. The master will go mad.’

  For the first time Marianne realised Tabitha wasn’t alone. There was a young man with her, blond-haired and muscular. It was the same man she’d seen crouching on the floor, bearing the weight of Tabitha’s body when she was being punished. ‘Who... who are you?’ she asked him uncertainly.

  Tabitha looked puzzled. ‘It’s John, miss, the gardener. You know how angry the master gets if he and I meet up, but we were that desperate to see each other, and...’

  All at once Marianne was afraid for the girl, afraid for all of them. ‘Of course I won’t tell, but you must get back to the house,’ she said.

  ‘What are you doing out here, miss?’ asked Tabitha, her timid eyes wide.

  ‘I was simply taking air.’

  ‘That’s not allowed, either.’ Tabitha sounded a little bolder.

  Marianne knew that, she could remember as much from her previous encounter with Sir Edward and his sister. ‘In that case we’re neither of us in a position to tell tales, are we?’ she said, surprised at how crisp her voice sounded. ‘We’ll hurry back together and let us hope we haven’t been missed.’

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see that John was pulling on the same pair of ragged trousers he’d been wearing when she’d first seen him. He wouldn’t look at her at all and, somewhat ungallantly, fled across the moors the moment he was dressed without even a backward glance for his timid lover and her new companion.

  ‘You won’t tell, will you, miss?’ Tabitha pleaded again as she and Marianne set off to follow him.

  ‘I’ve already said I won’t.’ Marianne gasped, wishing the modern-day path was still there because the heather was catching at the strange shoes she found herself wearing and it was difficult to hurry.

  It seemed to take an eternity but, finally, they were back at the house. Instinctively, she followed Tabitha to the back door, the one leading directly into the kitchen. Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs that she felt her chest would burst as she tumbled into the kitchen behind the servant girl, holding her side because a stitch was paining her.

  ‘Well, well,’ said Sir Edward from the opposite side of the room. ‘At last the wanderers return.’

  ‘I wasn’t doing nothing wrong,’ whimpered Tabitha. ‘Ask Miss Marianne.’

  Sir Edward’s piercing eyes moved to Marianne. ‘Is she telling the truth?’ he asked.

  Fatally, Marianne hesitated. ‘I-I believe so, sir,’ she stammered at last.

  ‘But you’re not sure?’

  ‘We only met up on the garden path,’ she lied.

  ‘How very strange. I was watching from the upstairs window and could have sworn I saw the pair of you running across the moors.’

  Tabitha went white and shrank back against the kitchen door, but Marianne stood her ground, although her knees felt weak and she wrung her hands in anguish.

  ‘Was I mistaken?’ he continued.

  Marianne didn’t know what to say. She’d promised the terrified servant girl that she wouldn’t tell on her, but his gaze insisted on an answer. ‘Perhaps we met a little earlier,’ she conceded quietly.

  ‘How sad that behind such a beautiful face lies a deceitful nature,’ remarked Sir Edward. ‘Perhaps it’s fortunate that your parents are dead and therefore remain unaware of their daughter’s true character. How fortunate, too, that you have come into this household where my sister and I can teach you the error of your ways. We try to do the same for Tabitha. Isn’t that true, my girl?’

  Tabitha made a whimpering sound that could have meant anything, and his sensual mouth curved into a slight smile. ‘I shall take that as agreement. However, neither of you have explained where you were, at least not to my satisfaction. I think this time it might be beneficial if you were disciplined together.’

  His words, whilst clearly causing Tabitha nothing but distress, excited Marianne beyond belief. This was what she’d wanted, to be here in this time and at his mercy. She waited, her rising excitement mingled with trepidation as he studied her thoughtfully.

  ‘We’ll go to the outhouse,’ he declared.

  Tabitha began to weep, and for the first time Marianne started to panic. She didn’t know why, but some sixth sense told her that in the outhouse she would experience things far darker than anything she’d witnessed so far. ‘No,’ she said defiantly.

  As she spoke Sir Edward grew fainter and she realised this was what had happened the last time. Because she’d protested and m
eant it she’d returned to the twentieth century. If she was going to find out the truth about Sir Edward and his sister’s companion, Marianne, then she must stay. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘If it pleases you, then...’

  ‘It does please him. It pleases him very much,’ said Judith, coming slowly into the kitchen. ‘I’ve prepared the outhouse, Edward. Marianne, come with me.’

  Obediently, Marianne followed the other woman, but behind her she heard struggling and turned to see that Sir Edward was having to drag the protesting Tabitha out of the kitchen and across the courtyard. Plainly this was not the servant girl’s first visit, and she fought every inch of the way. Finally, as he threw her into the small brick building and she fell to the floor, all the fight went out of her and she stared up at him as though hypnotised.

  ‘I know you’ve not been here before, Marianne,’ said Sir Edward. ‘It’s unfortunate that it’s proved necessary, but you are becoming a very obstinate young lady.’

  ‘Remove your clothes,’ said Judith, and Marianne obeyed without question. Her fingers were once more clumsy and after a few seconds Sir Edward lost patience. Reaching out, he hooked two fingers in the neck of her dress and tugged, tearing the material apart with ease. ‘Hurry,’ whispered Judith. ‘You don’t want to annoy him further.’

  Marianne certainly didn’t. Tabitha was already naked, her slender body shaking, and when Marianne had finally divested herself of all her garments, Judith pushed her hard in the back so that she stumbled and fell to the floor next to the servant girl.

  Because there was only one small grimy window in the outhouse it was gloomy despite the sun, and Marianne’s eyes took a little time to adjust. She was constantly aware of Tabitha whimpering next to her and wondered what was causing her such distress. What did the servant girl know that she didn’t?