The Merchant's Lady

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The Merchant's Lady Page 2

by Katie Ayres


  My eyes widened. Contrary to what I’d expected, being bound to the tree with her plump derriere fully exposed had infuriated the foul-tongued young woman to such a degree that it had loosened whatever inhibitions she’d had on her scolding tongue. Her insults had taken a strong turn for the worse.

  “The knave should hang for this. I’ll see the sodomitical whoreson hung!” She tugged and pulled on the rope and, when they wouldn’t give, she stamped her foot in impotent fury.

  My first impulse was to rush over and cuff the insolent girl in her pretty little mouth but, instead, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a couple seconds and calmed myself. I would deal with her. Oh, yes. The germ of an idea unfurled at the back of my mind. She wanted to see me whipped and tortured but it was I who would do any whipping and torturing that would take place in Bane’s Wood that day.

  I dug into one of my saddlebags and pulled out an apple for the patient Ruffian to munch on, then retrieved the merchant’s bung.

  “Did they rent this carriage from you or is it theirs?” I asked the cringing coachman.

  “It…it’s mine, sir. Theirs broke down just outside London so they hired me to bring them out.”

  “Hmm…in that case.” I reached into the bung and pulled out a sovereign which I handed to the surprised man. “This should be more than recompense for those two tired nags.”

  A crafty look stole over his face. “And will you recompense me also for the time and custom I’ve lost this fine afternoon?”

  The man’s effrontery surprised a bark of laughter from me. His temerity amused me. A less greedy coachman would have been happy to escape with his life. Still chuckling, I dug around for another sovereign and handed it to him. “I’d say we’re even now, are we not?”

  The coachman nodded, a wide grin on his face and his eyes shining at the sudden change in his fortunes. With two sovereigns he’d be able to buy a lot more than a couple of horses and even a new carriage.

  “Good. Now be on your way. Horton Village lies that way.” I pointed in the direction the carriage had been headed. “Or, you can return to London the way you came, whichever is your preference but I would that you were quickly away lest I regret my generosity and re-claim my hard-earned gold from you.”

  The coachman threw an anxious glance at the Threlfalls.

  “They are not your concern any longer,” I said, stepping forward to block his sight of the merchant and his delectable wife. I reached for my pistol. “I really would not delay my departure any longer if I were you,” I said. I was careful to keep my tone conversational, friendly even, but a look of alarm crossed the older man’s face. His fist tightened around his sovereigns as he backed quickly away from me before turning around and scuttling off down the road.

  I smiled, watching him go, then turned back to the husband and wife still tied to their respective trees. I should not have dallied there so long but my cock stirred as a passing breeze parted the edges of young Mrs. Threlfall’s cruelly torn dress, bringing her pale, rounded ass into full view. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she and her corpse-like husband were moving into my family home, would, in all likelihood, be sleeping on my parents’ bed, drinking our wine, eating the food grown in our gardens, as if all that were not enough the new young lady of the manor had verbally abused me in the most vile manner. I’d thought that my destruction of her dress would show her I was no mincing ninny to be so treated but no, she’d gone on to call me even worse names. She needed to be taught a lesson. Her husband, perhaps too enthralled with her youth and beauty, to fulfil his husbandly duty and properly correct her, had apparently allowed her mouth free reign in his household. Well, I would discipline the curvaceous little scold in such a way that she would not soon forget me.

  My scarf had slipped slightly down on my face and I pulled it back up as I marched toward her. She leaned her upper body away from me, inching her way around the tree, but I continued past without even glancing in her direction. My cock strained uncomfortably against my breeches, aching for release. I hadn’t had a woman since I’d started lurking around in the area and now I longed to pull my hard prick out and plunge it into her cunny but, first, I had to teach her a little respect. I scanned the nearby trees until I found a thin branch that would do nicely. I snapped it off and made my way back to where the luscious Mrs. Threlfall squirmed. She glared at me, narrowing her eyes as she took in the switch I carried. Her lips thinned and she made the little movement of her head that I now recognized as signalling that she was about to spit. What a one for spitting she was! I dodged past her and the little gob landed harmlessly on the grass.

  “I’ll thank you to do that no more,” I hissed, thoroughly annoyed with her.

  “Oh, please, Lucy, do as he says,” her husband begged. “Do not anger him further. She means no harm,” he said to me. “She’s just young and high-strung. Please pardon her.”

  “Your Lucy has insulted and spat on me too often for me to overlook her behaviour,” I barked, standing behind his insolent wife as I stripped the leaves off the switch.

  “What? What are you doing?” She twisted her neck to see. “Why--?”

  “To birch you, of course,” I said, not letting her finish. “Did you think you would get away with calling me names and spitting on me every chance you could get and I would simply tuck my tail between my legs like the dog you’ve called me and take no offense at it?”

  “You cannot assault me! I won’t have it! How dare you!” And the forest floor again felt the stamp of her plump little foot.

  “I cannot?” I mocked. “You won’t have it. Is that so? Perhaps you rule your hen-pecked husband but you do not rule me.” So saying I brought the switch smartly down on her round derriere but the end caught on her dress and she didn’t get quite the smack I’d meant to deliver.

  “Please, please, don’t hurt her,” Mr. Threlfall pleaded. “She’s had a gentle life. She’s not used to ill-treatment. Don’t do this, I beg you.”

  “Oh?” I said coolly, considering the situation. “If she doesn’t want to be chastised for her rudeness and ill-temper then she shouldn’t ill-treat others.” Still holding the switch in one hand I yanked at the gaping tear I’d made, ripping the waistline almost all the way around until the bottom half of her body was nearly completely naked.

  “No!” she shrieked, twisting this way and that. “No. Help me. Help!” But who was there to hear her?

  I stepped back to admire my handiwork, my hard-on raging in my breeches as I surveyed the pale ass and fleshy yet well-shaped legs now bare to the world or, at least, to me and her husband and anybody else who happened by.

  “You know, you should be grateful I let the coachman go and didn’t reveal more of your nakedness to him.”

  “Fie, sir!” Mr. Threlfall said, tugging and pulling at his bindings in a frenzy that matched his wife’s. “Have you no shame that you would treat a gentlewoman so?”

  “Can a ‘sodomitical,’ what was it you called me?” I prodded Lucy’s bum with the tip of the switch. “’Whoreson,’ was it not? Can such a one have shame?”

  “Lack-witted horn-beast!” the girl screamed. “You’ll hang for this. I’ll see you drawn and quartered.”

  “So you’ve said, and since I am to pay for the little I’ve done so far, I may as well do more.” I brought the switch down, pleased by how she jerked forward and by how succulently her plump ass cheeks quivered. Now that I’d ripped almost the whole lower half of her dress away her skirts could not interfere with the application of my discipline. “Yes. This is much better.” I smacked her again, even harder.

  Lucy whimpered, squirming. “Oh, it hurts. Stop! Stop!”

  “Beg me to stop and I might consider it,” I said, making the switch whistle through the air again and again in quick succession.

  “Stop! Stop! I’m begging you.”

  “No,” I replied, administering another smack. The switch was turning her white ass a remarkably fiery shade of pink. “You are instructing me t
o stop. You are not begging.” I struck her again, making sure to move the switch so that I wasn’t hitting her in the same place all the time. I was enjoying myself, very much so, but I didn’t really want to hurt her or cut her pretty, soft skin.

  Lucy didn’t say anything and I thought she was going to refuse to plead for mercy but then I must have hit her in a very tender area because she bawled out “Please!”

  “Ah, yes. That’s more like it.” I switched her again, my enflamed prick throbbing and swelling with each smack I gave her. “Please what?”

  “Please stop,” she cried, her voice shaking. “Please. It stings.”

  “Please. Stop. What?” I punctuated every word with a smack.

  “Oh, good Lord. Please stop birching my ass. Please. Please.”

  My lips twitched and I almost laughed aloud. How different she was now from the impertinent little baggage who’d taunted me with threats of my execution. She’d surrendered more easily than I’d expected given her sharp tongue but, for good measure, I gave her one more smack. Lucy’s hips jerked and her thighs shook.

  “Please stop switching my ass, sir,” she said pleadingly, her voice catching in her throat as tears spilled down her face. “Oh, God. It stings like hell.”

  Did it? By now her ass was a flaming red.

  “There, there,” I murmured consolingly. I gently cupped one chubby ass-cheek, stroking my thumb over the burning skin.

  “Oh!” Lucy twisted forward, apparently unnerved by my brazen touch. “Please,” she whispered even more brokenly than before. “Please don’t touch me. I can’t bear it.”

  “Can’t you?” I ran my hand over her ass, lightly squeezing and rubbing it. “I’m trying to soothe your hurts.” I was. I really was…but I was also enjoying the feel of her soft doughy flesh.

  “Please don’t. Don’t.” She pushed herself up against the tree, trying to get away from my caresses but there was no escape.

  I pressed my index finger into one of the small indentations at the top of her buttocks.

  “I’m trying to make you feel better,” I whispered in her ear. “Don’t you find my touch soothing?”

  “Oh, no. No.” But her protest came out as more of a moan and I noticed that, whatever the lovely Mrs. Threlfall might be saying, her body was saying something else as she’d arched her back, only slightly, but it had the effect of thrusting her ass out to meet my hand.

  “Stop this vile behaviour!” Mr. Threlfall bellowed. “Please. I’ll…I’ll pay you anything you like. Just stay away from her. I beg you.”

  “I already have what I want from you and anything else you have I’ll take, if and when I choose,” I responded as I lowered my hand to caress her rounded ass again. My fingers grazed the cleft between her thighs and I heard a soft sigh.

  I blinked in surprise and sent one finger probing between her legs. Her pussy was drenched. By all that was holy, I’d never expected such a thing but the little minx actually liked what I’d done to her. There was no mistake about it but, just to test her further, I pushed my finger deeper between her legs.

  “No,” she gasped, trying to clench her thighs together and twisting away to escape my questing finger but it was too late. Her body had betrayed her. I pulled my finger away and then, unable to help gloating over her arousal to her Roundhead husband, I held my hand up so he could see the silky liquid glimmering in the tree-dappled light of the sun.

  “Don’t!”

  “Knave,” her husband shouted. “Stop this at once.”

  I ignored them both and pushed my finger between the plump thighs once more as my swollen cock begged to be freed from its confinement. I rubbed her juice-slickened folds and heard her moan low in her throat.

  “Open your legs,” I whispered.

  “No. Never!”

  “Why not? We all know you like what I’m doing to you.”

  “My husband. He’s right there!” she squealed, in a breathy high-pitched whisper so different in character to how she’d insulted me before. “How can you do this to me in his sight?”

  Her outburst astonished me. “Do you mean you’d rather he couldn’t see?” I asked, sardonically, wanting her to acknowledge the truth of what she wanted from me.

  But it was too much for her. Her own desires obviously shamed her and she turned her face away without answering, her mouth trembling, oh, so delicately.

  I was disappointed as I liked nothing more than to hear a well-built and well-bred wench confess her lust for me. “Well, never mind. That’s easily corrected.” I drew my handkerchief out from my breeches and, crossing over to Mr. Threlfall, quickly and expertly blindfolded him, ignoring the wordless pleading in his eyes.

  “He cannot see now,” I said, returning to his young wife’s side. “Open your legs. I want to feel all of you.” I slipped my hand between her thighs again, surprised when she didn’t immediately open to me.

  “He cannot see you,” I whispered urgently, desperate to rub my fingers freely all along her womanly slit and caress the little bud of her pleasure.

  She didn’t answer and I realized she was overcome with shame and embarrassment at her own desires. Sighing, I pushed aside the folds of the remains of her dress at her front and caressed her hairy mound with one hand while continuing my penetration at the back with the other. This elicited the kind of response I wanted.

  “Ohh,” Lucy sighed, her chest heaving as she sagged against the tree, letting it support her weight.

  Her husband heard her and her little cry drove him mad. He cried out to her again in a piteous voice. “Lucy! Oh, my poor Lucy. What is this blackguard doing to you?” The hapless merchant whipped his head back and forth, trying to work the blindfold off but I had tied it as securely as I’d tied the rope at his wrists.

  Lucy shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. Her legs trembled and then, oh miracle, parted as she widened her stance. Quick as thought, I slid my middle finger inside her warm, wet cunny while, with my other hand at her front, I parted her pubic hair, drawing it away from her clit.

  “Ahh,” Lucy shuddered. “Please,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t. Stop. This is…oh, it’s wrong.”

  It might well be but I had no intention of stopping now. No, not even if all of the Lord Protector’s men were to converge on Bane’s Wood right at that very minute. They’d have to tear me away from the luscious little baggage.

  I pushed a second finger into her warm tight cunt and felt rather than heard her swift intake of breath. Her legs parted even further as her bosom heaved with the strength of the sensations roiling through her. Her juices ran down over my hand and dripped to the grassy forest floor. I was utterly delighted with her. She’d gone from being a little spitting foul-mouthed hellfire to a writhing mass of silky-soft lustful flesh.

  Desperate to see her full breasts, I abandoned her clit to rip away the lace collar at her throat. A hard downward tug on the bodice of her dress and her cantaloupe-sized breasts were suddenly revealed in all their naked pink-tipped glory. Except where they were pinkened by being pushed roughly against the bark of the tree, they were as milk-pale as the skin of her ass and legs.

  I squeezed one taut nipple between thumb and forefinger, provoking a little startled whimper from her. My cock strained to be let free and I hastily unbuttoned my breeches and pulled it out. Lucy glanced down as I did so and gave a small gasp.

  “It’s as thick as a club!” she exclaimed, her pretty blue eyes rounding in shock and apprehension. “Oh, heavens! You can’t mean to put that in me. It’s too big. I beg you.” But there was something in the way she licked her lips and in the way her eyes gleamed that told me she was only putting up a token resistance for her husband’s sake and that of propriety.

  “What?” the Roundhead merchant cried. “What is he doing? Oh, what’s happening? Are you alright, Lucy? Answer me, dearest.”

  “Ye-es,” Lucy moaned as I finger-fucked her. “I’m…fine. Oh.”

  Her cunny muscles fluttered around my fingers even and her s
lippery little clit twitched as I continued circling it in a feather-light caress. Her breathing quickened, making her ample boobs jiggle. I bent to draw one of her succulent nipples into my mouth and she cried out at the touch of my warm moist tongue. A light flush covered her magnificent breasts. Her pleasure was rising in her.

  Lucy whimpered deep in her throat. Her hips bucked as she wantonly matched each thrust of my fingers. It was only with a supreme effort of will that I suppressed my own orgasm as hers suddenly swept through her. Lucy’s entire body shook, her breasts shaking delightfully and her Rubenesque flesh quivering as her juices gushed from her. It seemed to go on for the longest time and I knew then that her husband could not possibly be managing to pleasure his young wife as she deserved. The way she’d reacted so powerfully to me suggested that Mr. Threlfall was failing to adequately satisfy his wife’s erotic longings. Still, it was no business of mine if the poxy Roundhead couldn’t gratify his wife. The surprise she’d shown at the size of my cock indicated that the merchant’s suffered by comparison.

  Slowly, Lucy’s shaking subsided and she sagged against the tree, her eyes closed as she took little panting breaths.

  I wasted no more time. I’d already spent too long there, dallying with the delectable Mrs. Threlfall but I needed to be up on Ruffian and away. It would be just my luck if the road past Bane’s Wood suddenly got busier than it had been for the last few days.

  Acting swiftly, I drew my dagger from its sheath, cut Lucy’s bindings and turning her around to face me, gently lowered her to the grass. I quickly climbed over her, kneed her legs apart and slipped the tip of my cock past the entrance to her cunny. The feeling of her hot moist inner flesh engulfing me almost sent me over the edge right away but I paused and forced my excitement back down before inching my way slowly into her pillowy body.

  Lucy grunted.

  “What?” I whispered. I have to say that the fact that the husband of the woman I was fucking stood just a few feet away added a certain piquant eroticism to the entire experience that I hadn’t expected.

 

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