"They are all yours," he told her with a small smile.
She smiled back and proceeded to eat the vegetable slowly and sensuously as he watched. She could see the bulge in his breeches with each nibble she took. At one point she reached out, patting it. When the asparagus were all devoured, Lucinda gave him her fingers to lick. He sucked upon each digit with very explicit meaning. The last item left on the tray proved to be a dish of strawberries. They fed them to each other until their fingers and their lips were stained red with the juices of the sweet fruits. When the berries were gone and they had licked each other's fingers clean, he brought them each a crystal goblet of wine. Together they drank it down.
"Are you satisfied now?" he demanded of her when the tray had been decimated.
"No," she said. "There is one more thing I desire, Robbie." He laughed. "You are a true vixen, Lucinda," he told her. "Very well, as I am not yet satisfied either, you shall have a second dessert. Come," he said, and pulled her up. Then spinning her about, he bent her over the settee, lifting her night garment.
"Ohh," Lucinda exclaimed, "how deliciously wicked!" The Master loosened his breeches, releasing his male member, and moving carefully behind her, clasped her hips in his hands while he nosed his love lance beneath her into her hot little sheath. "Tis you, my pet, who are wicked," he murmured in her ear as he bent over her. "You are all wet, and ready for me." He thrust deep.
"Ahhh," she cried, "I have never before done it this way!" "There are several ways you have not done it, my pet, but I assure you that before you leave here in September, you shall know them all, Lucinda. Ahhh, that's it, my angel, come back onto my cock!" He pumped her vigorously, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
"Ohh, Robert!" she sighed gustily. "I want to learn everything you can teach me before I return to London. Ohhh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yesss!"
Chapter Four
It was, Lucinda thought in later years, one of the loveliest summers of her life. It was, she realized, the first time in all of her life that she had really been free to do as she pleased, and not what someone else wanted her to do. She had a lover. He was intelligent, charming, and amusing. He was incredibly passionate. She was in love with him, and she had known it almost from the first moment they had met. She knew that she must learn his identity, for the man who called himself The Master, or Robert, was the only man she would marry.
His house was delightful, built, as she suspected, in the reign of the first Elizabeth when his family had made their fortune in the beginning of the Indies' trade. Their title, he said, predated their short-lived wealth. It went back to the times before King William, he who had come from Normandy. It was, Lucinda felt, a home before it was a great house. The walls were paneled; the floors, wide boards. Both were black with age. There were fine, but worn, Turkey carpets in the public rooms, a wonderful library and a picture gallery filled with portraits of the ancestors.
"Do you look like any of your antecedents?" she asked him one day, and he had laughed.
"No," he said. "I look like my mother, and there is no portrait of her as there were no monies to pay an artist when she was alive." He tipped her face up to his, and asked softly, "Does it matter to you what I look like, Lucinda?"
"No," she said, "but you cannot expect me not to be curious, Robbie. For two months we have been lovers, and you have been masked the entire time when you are with me. Even when we ride out across your lands. I understand your reasons for keeping your face from me, but I shall never wed a man who inhabits high society. It is unlikely we would meet socially."
"But if we do one day, and you have not seen my face, then you shall not be ashamed or embarrassed," he replied.
He never spent an entire night with her, disappearing after their lovemaking to his own bedchamber next door, which was firmly barred to her, and to Polly. " I must know who he is!" she said to her maidservant. "I must know!"
"Shouldn't think you'd care given the skillful way he wields that big cock of his," Polly answered saucily. "I asked John what he looks like, and he says he ain't anything special."
"You and John are rather thick," Lucinda noted.
"He wants to marry me, m'lady," Polly confessed.
"You'd marry a man who practices such a profession as he does?" Lucinda was surprised.
"John's pa wants him to come home to Hereford and take over his smithy, m'lady," Polly said. "He only went into service to better himself, but he says now he realizes he's better in the smithy."
"Do you want to marry him, Polly?" Lucinda asked her maid.
"Oh, yes, m'lady, I do!" the girl said. "I'd have me own house and everything. John's pa is a widower."
"You two seem to have discussed this quite thoroughly," Lucinda said thoughtfully. "When do you plan to leave me?"
"John and me both agree, m'lady, that we won't go till this is over and done with. I explained everything to him, and he thinks you're ever so brave to do what you must do to have your revenge," Polly told her mistress. "He says The Master has been a good master, and he knows he's not going to do this any more after you are gone."
"Do you mean to tell me Robert is retiring as The Master of the Devil's Disciples?" He had really meant it, Lucinda considered, excited.
"Yes, m'lady, he is. He says he is bored and tired of it."
"I must learn his true identity," Lucinda said, "but how?" She looked to Polly. "Would John know?"
"He might," Polly said, "but I don't think he'll betray The Master, m'lady. Why is it so important to you? Certainly you won't ever want to meet this gentleman after we have left here. You may not wed the duke, the marquess, or his lordship, but one day you will certainly marry again. What if your husband knows this man? Or you meet him at a ball, or a rout? Tis better you don't know, m'lady."
"The Master," Lucinda told her surprised servant, "is the only man I will marry, Polly. He has promised to come to the Countess of Whitley's ball where my brother must announce my betrothal. If I don't know who The Master is, how can George announce my engagement?"
Polly's eyes were big with her astonishment. Finally she regained her voice, and said, "But what if The Master ain't a gentleman, m'lady?"
"I know this house is his. His ancestors hang in the portrait gallery, Polly. He is a gentleman. One, I realize, of small means, but a gentleman nonetheless. There has to be a way of learning his true name and rank. There has to be!"
Polly shook her head. "I'll tell John what you've told me, m'lady. He'd like to see The Master happy as we're happy, I know, and he'll keep yer secret if I asks him to keep it."
To Lucinda's surprise it was the footman who approached her several days later. "If your ladyship were to go into the library some day," he said quietly, "she would find a large volume upon an oak stand, where the answers she seeks are to be found."
"When?" Lucinda asked softly.
"He has to be away all day tomorrow negotiating with a prince who wishes to purchase one of Rhamses's ungelded male offspring for his own stud in Turkey. The prince is staying nearby at Lord Bowen's home. Dick and Martin like to sneak into the village when The Master's away. The barmaids at The Frog and Swan are most accommodating, and as The Master ain't let them at you, m'lady, they're right randy. I've had some time of it keeping our Polly safe from them two, I can tell you. When they've gone off tomorrow, I'll send Polly to fetch you. Then it's up to you to find the information you need."
"Can you tell me nothing of him?" Lucinda queried the footman.
John shook his head. "We actually know little more than you do, m'lady We was told when we arrived that we was to call him The Master. We was all in service at Lord Bowen's. Dick and Martin will go back, I'm certain, when this is finished. Lord Bowen only told us that The Master was a titled gentleman, and because of what he would do for the Devil's Disciples, he wished to remain anonymous. We've seen his face, of course, but we had never seen him before we came here. Lord Bowen, you understand, spends most of his time in London. Besides, none of us can read
, so it wouldn't do us no good to look in that big book."
Lucinda nodded. "I understand, John, and I thank you for your help in the matter. I shall see you and Polly have a fine gift on the occasion of your wedding."
"I must go over to a friend's this morning," The Master told Lucinda the next day. "I fear I shall be gone for several hours. Do you mind being alone?"
"I should welcome it," Lucinda said. "I know the hardest of my lessons are to come very soon, my darling Robbie. It is already September first, and the full moon will be upon us shortly."
He kissed her tenderly. "If there were another way," he said.
"I know," she told him, and indeed she did. If The Master allowed Lucinda to escape, her suitors would take their revenge on him. Then they would hunt their prey down, and one of them would force her to the altar. No. If she was to have her revenge, she would have to pretend to be mastered and yield herself to the hateful trio.
He left her, and shortly afterward Lucinda, gazing out her bedchamber window, saw Dick and Martin hurrying off down the lane in brown homespun breeches and linen shirts, their livery left behind. She waited patiently until Polly came to say it was safe for her mistress to go downstairs into the library. Lucinda hurried down the stairs. How quiet the lovely old house was this morning. Curious, she wandered about for a moment, opening doors. There was a beautiful little Great Hall with a single enormous fireplace. The tapestries on the wall were dusty, but well woven. It was obvious that the house had never been modernized since it had been built in fifteen hundred and one, for that was the date etched into the fireplace wall. Sunlight filtered through the dirty high windows. The furniture was good country oak. Cleaning, polishing, and some accessories would do wonders, she thought. Then she smiled to herself and went to the library, opening the door cautiously as if she expected to find someone there, but the paneled room was quite empty.
There! There by one of the casement windows was the book stand, and upon it the volume John had spoken of to Polly. There was a simple crest upon it. A crescent moon d'or surrounded by five-pointed gold stars upon an azure field. It was artless, but unique, Lucinda thought. Slowly she opened the book. A History of the Earls of Stanton, the title page said. Lucinda wasted no time in turning to the back of the book, and it was there she found it. Lucían Robert Charles Phillips, born August nineteenth, seventeen twenty. And after that there were no further entries. His mother's and his father's births, marriage and deaths were registered as was his paternal grandmother's.
It was all she really needed to know, but her curiosity not completely satisfied, Lucinda returned to the front of the book to discover that the Phillipses were a very ancient and honorable noble family. Family deaths matched all major battles fought in the king's name. There were at least two Earls of Stanton who had gone on crusade. Before Lucinda knew it the morning had gone, and the afternoon was upon her. Polly came to seek her out.
"Have you found out what you need to know, m'lady?"
"I have," Lucinda replied.
"Then come and have something to eat," the servant said.
Lucinda followed Polly into the garden where a table had been set up with her luncheon. John was waiting to serve her. He held the chair for Lucinda as she sat down. "I know what I need to know now," she began. "I prefer to keep my knowledge to myself for the interim. When we have returned to London, Polly, I shall tell you both. John, I want you to come with us until after the Countess of Whitley's ball is over. Then I will see you and Polly are transported safely to your father's home in Hereford. I think you should be married as soon as we get to London, however."
Polly was disappointed, but John said, "I understand perfectly, my lady. A London wedding would be most suitable. Your kindness toward us is appreciated, especially considering how we began," he finished with a deep blush.
Lucinda's vivid blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "I believe the less said about that small moment in time, the better off we all are, John. You may serve me now."
"Yes, m'lady," the footman said, all business again.
Afterward when she and Polly were alone, sunning themselves on the camomile lawn, the maidservant said, "You'll tell me now that my John's gone, won't you, m'lady?"
Lucinda shook her head. "No, Polly, I meant what I said. The Master's true identity will remain a secret until we are back in London, but rest assured he is a titled gentleman. But even if he weren't, I should be content."
"Is his name really Robert?" Polly asked.
"It is one of his Christian names," Lucinda replied, with a smile. "He has two others as well."
"He is a real gentleman," Polly said, sounding impressed.
Everyone knew that only real gentlemen had several Christian names.
The Master returned from a successful day in an excellent mood. He and Lucinda sat that evening dining at opposite ends of the highboard in the Great Hall. It was the first time she had been invited into the hall.
"As I rode back from Lord Bowen's today," he began, "I had an inspiration, my pet. I believe I can save you from being publicly ravished by those three villains who seek to marry you. I cannot, however, be certain it will work, but I believe, knowing the personalities involved, that I can tweak their pride so that they will not embarrass you."
"How?" she demanded of him.
"I do not want to tell you," he said. "Better it not appear as if you and I are in collusion, Lucinda."
"As much as I should like to avoid having any of the trio use my body, if I do not allow it, how can I have my revenge upon them? I want them always to remember I was the best, and the most memorable, fuck any of them ever had. Each time they couple with a woman after, I want them to remember me and ache with my loss. If you save me from them, then how can I accomplish what I have set out to do?"
"I may not be able to save you," he reiterated. "Their lust for you may overcome their vanity and their hauteur. You may well have to yield to them, but if I can rescue you from such a fate, you can still accomplish your purpose. I shall tell the assembled that night that your brother will announce your betrothal the night of Whitley's ball. That ball celebrates the end of the fall hunting season and the return to London of society's most important denizens. Everyone who is anyone will be there, my pet. What a coup for the winner of your fair hand to have your betrothal announced that night. And you may keep your swains eager before that evening. Privately, of course, but if I can keep you from public humiliation, Lucinda, I should like to do it," The Master told her. "And then when no an-nouncement is forthcoming, what delicious public humiliation for the trio, for you may be absolutely certain each will have bragged to his friends that it is he you will choose. Then when they come to you outraged afterward, you can threaten to expose the Devil's Disciples and their wicked ways."
She was touched by his concern. Perhaps she could accomplish her purpose without whoring before an audience. Someday she would have children. Those offspring must eventually be matched with their own peers. If the gentlemen of the Devil's Disciples remembered her most vulgar performances, who would her own children wed one day? "See if you can save me," she said to him quietly.
He nodded, and then said, "But in the event I cannot, Lucinda, there is one more performance you must be taught. We will begin in the morning. In preparation I shall leave you to sleep tonight."
The following day she was led early, and without her breakfast, back into the hall, clothed only in her night garment and house slippers. A device had been placed in the center of the room, the likes of which she had never before seen. It was his own design, he told her, and he called it the Maiden Tamer.
A sturdy pole, adjustable he explained, was set in a heavy marble rectangle of a base. Attached to the pole was a wide rounded bar forming a T shape The bar was well wrapped and padded with lamb's wool covered in black velvet. Lucinda saw the manacles at either end, also adjustable, he said. In the base were foot clamps into which she was to place her feet. It was a rather frightening contraption. Brave as sh
e was, even Lucinda was a bit taken aback by The Master's Maiden Tamer.
"Come, my pet, and get up," he said, taking her hand, and helping her onto the base. "Now, remove your garment so we may make the necessary adjustments." She complied as he lowered the crosspiece just slightly and carefully bent her over it, then raised her up again and lowered the bar a bit more. "Now, try bending over it again," he told her, and when she had done so, he nodded, satisfied. "Stretch your arms out,
Lucinda, and let us see where the manacles are to go." She obeyed, and in short order found herself neatly constrained. The manacles, however, were lined in thick, soft lamb's wool, and therefore did not chafe her. "Lastly," he said, his hand smoothing over her bare bottom, "we must affix your feet into the foot clamps. Spread your legs, Lucinda, wider, wider, ah, that is perfect!"
She felt her legs restrained, but as she was wearing her slippers, and the foot clamps, like the manacles, were lined, there was no pain. The position she had now attained was one of perfect submission to The Master. "Dare I ask what you mean to do now?" she laughed nervously.
"Ah, you are concerned," he said. "This is why I decided we must practice on the chance I cannot save you. You don't have to be afraid, Lucinda. It is just a rather colorful means by which you are prepared to be fucked. First, of course, you will be strapped with a good Scottish tawse. Spanking doesn't do for a lady so restrained. Let me show you the leather." He moved over to a chair and lifted what appeared to be a belt from it, but upon closer examination she could see it was much broader. "It is six inches wide," he said. "It has been split four inches up into half-inch thongs that have been tied with small knots. It will not break your skin, but it will, used properly, heat the bottom nicely, and prepare you to be fucked. Indeed, if you respond as I believe you will, you will be most eager. Shall we begin, my pet?"
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