Her papa seemed to know what the problem was. To her shock she felt his fingers on her quim, cupping it. She gasped and tried to close her legs but there was no way. In her current position, she was wide open to his hand and at his mercy. He could do anything he wanted with her.
To her shock, she realized that Higgins was continuing to clear the table in the outer room and the door was still open. He could see what they were doing, but that did not seem to deter her master. She realized that she was his plaything, he could and would do anything he wished with her, anywhere he wished and she was powerless to resist. What he was doing felt too good for her to pull away. Now he was squeezing her buttocks which elicited little whimpers from her. They were still a bit sore from her most recent chastisement, but then she realized that it felt good too.
Her papa stopped suckling and asked, “How does this feel, little one?”
“It-it feels good, Papa, Very, very good,” she admitted in a whisper.
As her papa stared into her eyes, he once again cupped her quim, holding it in the palm of his hand like it was a live thing, a little bird perhaps. “Who does this belong to, Margie?” He squeezed her pussy to let her know what he was talking about.
“You, Papa. It belongs to you,” Margie answered without hesitation.
“Very good, lambkins,” he whispered. He began to stroke her between the legs, like she was an animal that needed calming. With his other hand, he gathered her ripe breast in his hand and once again began to suckle, biting carefully upon the tender bud.
Margie moaned. It hurt but it also felt good. She pressed forward, offering her breast without reservation to her master as he began to finger her pussy. She could feel him playing with her moisture, rubbing his fingers in it. She felt one finger slide up deep inside of her. He began to press on something, probably her maidenhead and she moaned again. He stopped but then inserted a second finger to join the first.
He stopped suckling her breast and whispered in her ear as he drove his fingers inside of her over and over. “My little virgin, you are very pleasing to me. I intend to claim you and make you mine. Forever mine.”
Margie threw her head back and moaned as she bucked up against his hand, “Yes, master, yes. I am yours.”
He withdrew his hand and she felt bereft but she could hear him fumbling with his clothing. The next thing she knew, his manhood was tapping at her entrance. She gasped, she wanted this, wanted it so badly. She wanted to belong to her master, both body and soul. She began to lower herself upon his stem.
“Good, angel, that’s good, keep taking me up inside of you. That’s it,” he urged. He had a tight grip on her buttocks, controlling the speed with which she lowered herself on to him. It pleased him that she was taking the initiative, offering him the gift of her virginity. She stopped lowering herself and began to whimper.
“It—it hurts,” she moaned “it’s beginning to hurt.”
“That’s your maidenhead, my darling. You must lower yourself on to me until I am fully seated. Only then will you truly belong to me.”
Margie looked at him with big, luminous, blue eyes, overflowing with tears.
“Will you do that for me, precious? Will you give me the gift of your innocence?” he whispered lovingly, looking deeply into her eyes. “It would mean ever so much to me,” he added.
He watched a decisive look come over Marjorie and she lifted up slightly and then pushed down on to his stem with all her might. She cried out as she surrendered her virginity to her master.
Lord Cavendish could feel her blood bathing his stem. He was overcome with the realization of the virgin sacrifice she had just made. With a roar he flipped her over on her back and began to drive into her. He gathered a breast and sucked the nipple up into his mouth as he drove into her over and over. He could feel his essence begin to gather in his sac and he bit down on her nipple as he ejaculated into her, flooding her with his seed. Margie strained up towards him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, holding him to her as she accepted his tribute.
Which of them, Margie wondered, lying content in his arms afterwards, actually gave themselves to the other on this magical night? It seemed to her that the woman came out as the victor in the end.
She could hear a noise, Higgins was still in the outer room! Her papa heard him too. “Come Higgins,” he called out to Marjorie’s shock. Soon the man was standing beside the divan looking down at them. Stefan rose up and Higgins could see her lying there, her dress up around her neck, her breasts and mons exposed. “Bring me a bowl of warm water and a cloth,” Stefan ordered. Marjorie started to cover herself.
“Stop,” her papa warned, “Never cover yourself unless I tell you to.”
“But Higgins …” she whimpered, hearing the man running water in the next room.
“I will decide when you are allowed clothing and when you are not. I will take you any time and place I wish. Do you understand?” he asked, looking down at her. She nodded and was still lying with her legs splayed open, her entire body on display when Higgins returned with the water and the cloth. Stefan had him stand there, holding the water, while he washed the blood off between Margie’s legs. He also had Higgins take the dress off from around Margie’s neck, leaving her completely nude before the servant. Once Higgins left, Stefan helped Marjorie to sit up. He sat down next to her on the divan and took her face in his hands.
“I intend to own you, my love. Our relationship will be much, much more than a traditional marriage, our connection much deeper. If you are mine, then you are mine to hide away or put on display, even to give away if I should so choose.”
Marjorie’s eyes grew wide as she took in what he was saying.
“I will ask much of you, but in return I will give you much. I will be as devoted to you as you are to me. Does that sound like an arrangement you can live with?”
Marjorie nodded yes, without hesitation. She realized what he was asking of her, to trust completely, to submit her will to her master and have faith in the decisions he made. He was watching her carefully, waiting for her answer.
“Yes, my lord, I will always trust that you know what is best in every situation,” she promised her master, meaning every word that she said. Stefan took her in his arms and carried her to his bed.
Chapter Eleven
The next night, Margie was once again dressed in one of her little sailor dresses and told that she would be dining up on the deck. Something had changed, Margie could feel it. Although the difference was subtle, she could tell from how she was being treated by her nanny. Trinka had acted more like a lady’s maid as she was dressing her for dinner than a nanny.
When it was time to go up on deck, she had not been taken by the hand but instead had walked behind Nanny Trinka up to the dining room on board the ship. Instead of the full table that had been there the night before, there was a small table set for two in the dining room. A server pulled out her chair and she took her seat.
“I will not be joining you for dinner this evening, Marjorie,” Nanny Trinka said. Margie realized that this was the first time she had been called by her proper Christian name since she’d awoken on board the yacht. The door opened and Lord Cavendish entered as Nanny took her leave. Margie began to rise to curtsey to her master but Stefan held up his hand and stopped her. He even bowed to her before he took his seat.
Margie was speechless and quite overwhelmed. After their night of glorious lovemaking, she had been a bit disillusioned to find herself back in the nursery the following morning. But there was a difference now, clearly.
Stefan took charge at dinner, he tested the wine, decided it was wanting and sent it back, ordering a different kind, one he thought that his dinner companion would prefer. Marjorie was poured a glass when it was produced. It was a blush color, much lighter than the red and she found that she liked it very much.
The first course was brought out, oysters. Stefan showed Marjorie how to eat them properly, not with a fork but by loosening the oyster from th
e shell and holding the entire thing up to her mouth. As he watched her through hooded eyes, he found it very sensuous to see how Marjorie relished the meaty bits sliding down her throat. Stefan enjoyed watching how adventurous she was when it came to food. He told her that oysters were believed to be an aphrodisiac and watched as a blush came to her cheeks. She smiled at him merrily. Soon they were conversing as equals and he found that he was quite enjoying himself. While it had been fun to have a little one, adult company was also most enjoyable. Marjorie had somehow filled both roles with an elegant ease.
He studied her throughout dinner. Away from her life and her cares and concerns about her family’s dire financial situation, she was an extraordinary woman. It was her desperate bid for security that had made her the conniving, manipulative gold digger he had first met. Now she had morphed, or perhaps, returned to, the person she was truly meant to be, a truly great and noble lady. By submitting to Stefan and putting herself in his hands, she was reaching her full potential. And in return, Stefan found that he was falling quite in love with her.
After dinner he suggested a stroll around the deck. The evening was cool and clear, the stars bright in the sky. He told her about celestial navigation, how sailors had guided their vessels for centuries simply by studying the stars. He was surprised at how quickly she picked up the concept and began to point out the constellations to him. Her level of knowledge was surprising, she truly did have a scientific bent of mind.
They even found themselves discussing Archibald and his theory of time travel. Gradually she came back to herself in full, Lady Marjorie Hamilton out enjoying an evening stroll with Lord Stefan Cavendish aboard his yacht. Encouraged by her attentiveness, Stefan told her about the history of the vessel and how he had chosen its name, The Felicitous Fortune, named after an ancestor, Felicity Cavendish, wife of the very first Earl Cavendish.
Stefan gathered his courage and did something that he should have done much, much sooner. He apologized for abducting her and spiriting her away without her consent. As Marjorie accepted his heartfelt apology, he felt a weight lifting as he began to regain his self respect.
What was developing between them felt very real indeed. There in the moonlight, with the stars shining in Marjorie’s eyes, Stefan pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. Marjorie yielded with a little cry, and opening her mouth, took his tongue deep inside. Far away from the pressures of polite society, surrounded by nothing but water, Marjorie felt her last few drops of reserve melt away. She pressed herself to this man, her Stefan, who owned her body and soul. This was the connection she had always yearned for.
He led her below deck to his cabin and once again took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. The sight of her in her little sailor dress, her hair down around her shoulders, her eyes dancing with desire, moved him deeply. He undressed them both and then lifted her in his arms and laid her carefully down upon his bed.
He looked down upon her, quite overcome with her loveliness. With her head thrown back, her lush lips spread as she looked at him through eyes glazed with arousal, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He looked past her blond curls tumbling over the pillow to her breasts, full and round with small pink nipples, quite the most exquisite he had ever had the good fortune to look upon and his for the taking. He leaned forward and kissed her until her bee stung lips looked swollen, then he began to trail kisses down her neck as he gathered her abundant breasts into his hands. They were more than a handful, full and lush and he squeezed them as he ran his lips over the twin peaks.
Marjorie had her hands on his shoulders and was pressing him to her as she arched towards his mouth. Her excitement was evident in the two hard little pebbles that the points of her breasts had become. He could smell her arousal, taste it, she seemed to desire him as much as he wanted her. And there was nothing he wanted more right now than to keep Marjorie as his, forever in his bed. All reason fled as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and began to lave it with his tongue. He suckled, pulling at her breast until Marjorie began to whimper with need. He laid himself on top of her and her legs opened to him, spreading on either side of his chest.
She was incredibly responsive, seemingly as aroused as he. He could delay no further and reached for the core of her, sliding his fingers inside of her wet, pulsing tunnel. Marjorie began to move against his hand, gripping his fingers with the walls of her pussy. With a primal roar he rose and entered her with a single thrust, claiming his mate once again; she who had always existed to belong to him. Marjorie cried out and gripped his hips between her thighs, sliding her hands down his back, clutching his buttocks to her. He pounded into her and as he reached his pinnacle, Marjorie cried out her own fulfillment.
Even in their release, their desire for one another grew and he took her again, again she moved against him, crying out when he did. Had he ever softened or only remained hard through the double coupling? Finally exhausted, covered in a sheen of sweat, he rolled to his back and pulled her to him and wrapped them both in his bedding as they fell into an exhausted slumber.
As morning dawned, Marjorie awoke in her master’s bed. By her reckoning she had been on board the yacht for two full weeks now. She turned to look at Stefan. He looked very dear lying next to her, naked and asleep. She was touched by his face in repose, the innocence she found there, his hair tousled, not at all the noble, forbidding lord she was accustomed to. Away from her mesmerizing nanny for several hours now, her head was beginning to clear. Her reason returned to her with tremendous force.
Marjorie thought about what had befallen her. She had been spirited away from her fiance’s front stoop, injected with a drug of some sort, and taken aboard Lord Cavendish’s yacht. She had been placed in the clutches of a most unusual woman, Nanny Trinka, who had remade her into a young girl, apparently what Lord Cavendish wanted her to be. But she wasn’t a youngster, she was a full grown woman. And what they had done the last two nights were very adult activities.
She thought about her family, her mother and sister. Were they frightened for her? Did they know she was safe and sound? ‘Safe and sound,’ she reflected on those words. She really was very safe and becoming increasingly sound of mind. For that she supposed she should be thankful.
But the man sleeping so deeply next to her was both her kidnapper and her seducer. It had touched something deep inside of her, melting her core, as he had her regressed her to childhood, making her feel loved and cherished. But he had to know that reality was eventually bound to intrude. Did he truly love her or was he just toying with her? Were his intentions honorable? And if they were not, what were her prospects now?
No longer a virgin, stranded at sea, her welfare very much depended upon Lord Cavendish’s continuing good will. Would she continue to be expected to don her little sailor dresses, now that they had become lovers? How long did he expect her to dress and act like a little girl? And if she refused to play along, what then? She made the decision then and there to be whatever he needed her to be. She felt confident that ultimately they would develop a relationship that would work for both of them. She was willing to be flexible, if that’s what it took to possess such an exquisite man.
She watched him start to stir and begin to awaken. She already knew that he was not at his best first thing in the morning, not until he had broken his fast.
“Good morning, Stefan,” she said hesitantly as his eyes opened.
Stefan blinked at little Margie. He did not awaken easily and his staff knew better than to converse with him until he had consumed his morning pot of tea.
“Pardon me?” he replied, blinking awake. Marjorie quickly grasped that this was not the time for an adult approach. Quickly she reverted back to little girl status.
“Good morning, sweet Papa. Did you sleep well?” she asked in a little girl voice.
Stefan sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Very well,” he muttered, clearing his voice. Soon the two were wrapped in white robes and sitting at the table eating their breakfast. Marjo
rie flushed as Higgins served, embarrassed that he had seen her quite naked, but the man was completely professional. After their tea cups had been refilled several times and Lord Cavendish had eaten his morning biscuit, he smiled over at her.
“I must say, it is quite agreeable to look upon your lovely countenance at breakfast, my dear. Do you miss your nursery?”
“It is a very nice room, my lord,” she replied carefully. “But I much prefer being at your side.” She smiled sweetly at him. She was walking a fine line, trying to segue into a more adult way of speaking while still remaining respectful. He smiled at her and her heart leapt, he looked so adorable in just his robe, his hair looking tousled and sexy. His early morning stubble made his brown eyes stand out more.
“How are you feeling, little one? All better from the night before last?” he asked with genuine concern.
Marjorie blushed, he was referring to the loss of her virginity. She found her voice and managed to reply, “The soreness is gone, my lord. I feel fully recovered.”
He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “I am glad to hear it, Marjorie. Your welfare is of the utmost concern to me. Please be assured, I am no cad. Now that we have consummated our relationship, I intend to do the honorable thing of course, in due time.”
Well there it was, a statement of his intentions. It was a little vague, but it was something. She knew he meant what he said. What did a gentleman have, if not his good word? She could wait until he was ready for the next step. Upon reflection, she too needed time to get used to the idea of becoming Lady Cavendish. She decided to turn the conversation towards their voyage to try to get an idea of where they were heading.
“Your yacht is quite marvelous, Stefan. Thank you for bringing me along on this voyage to… to…where are we heading again?” Marjorie asked, pretending that he had already told her where they were heading but she was too empty headed to recall.
The Science of Submission Page 10