The Hesitant Bride

by Cecelie Hart

  "Unlace your dress, Mabel," she ordered softly.

  "Milady?" the maid gasped. Her hands froze on her mistress's hard, bare breasts.

  Emma stared at the shy redhead in the mirror. Those adorable dimples seemed to have deepened. A flush was spreading underneath the freckles.

  "Your dress, Mabel," she repeated. "Unlace it."

  "Ummm..." the maid stammered uncertainly. But she didn't dare disobey. "Yes, milady."

  Emma's shift fell down her body as she stood and pooled on the floor. Naked, the dark curls between her legs glistening with quim, she circled behind the maid. As Mabel reached behind her neck with trembling hands to pull on the laces securing her dress, Emma took over. She tugged hard on the garment, pulling it down the maid's body and over her modestly wide hips.

  Mabel let out a little squeak. Her hands fluttered indecisively before lifting to cover her bosom. Emma smiled. The day was warm. The redhead had worn no petticoats beneath her dress, just a simple, coarse shift. Most improper, but it seemed the maid had not expected anyone to undress her. She'd quickly learn that the rules were different here than they were on other estates.

  Emma watched in the mirror as she ran her hands up the rough fabric along the maid's sides. She briefly pulled on the shift, lifting its hem over the girl's thighs and exposing wet, red curls. Mabel let out a shocked gasp, but the gleam of quim belied her arousal. Emma smiled and slid the straps off the maid's shoulders. The redhead clutched at the shift as it slithered and fell, catching it around her waist.

  Mabel was young, barely older than Emma herself. Her skin was smooth and supple, still radiant in her first flush of youth. And... mmmm... those freckles went all the way down... and so did that mottled flush. Emma purred as she slipped her hands around the maid and cupped two pale breasts that had blushed deep pink. Mabel let out a choked moan as she squeezed and pinched. Oh... those were very nice. The maid's bosom was modest, almost small, but her rosy areola were huge, puffy and very erect. Emma rolled those wonderful nipples between her fingers, smiling as Mabel's legs seemed to wobble. The redhead's jaw was hanging open. Her eyes were half-closed. Her face was strained—torn between mortification and lust.

  Emma didn't bother with a command. She simply turned the maid around and pushed her back against the table. Mabel squeaked as her bottom squished against the hard wood surface.

  "Milady!" she gasped.

  "Sssh, Mabel," Emma whispered, bending in to kiss the maid on her soft lips. The maid tasted sweet, her breath warm and soft. Mabel stiffened as her tongue probed the redhead's mouth, then shivered and melted into the embrace.

  Emma pressed against her until their bare breasts melded into one. She slipped a hand behind the maid's head, holding her firm as she kissed the girl more deeply. Mabel trembled and quivered, her uncertainty and arousal turning her into her mistress's pliant toy.

  Hmmm... this was fun. Why hadn't Emma done this before? She was the lady of this estate. Why had she always let the maids come to her until now? Why hadn't she taken what she wanted instead?

  With her free hand Emma parted Mabel's thighs, then worked her way beneath the girl's shift, not stopping until she could feel the wet heat radiating from the redhead's trembling vulva. She bit the maid's lower lip as and entered her with two wiggling fingers. Mabel squealed softly, but her pussy was sopping. Mmmmm... her cunt sucked delightfully on Emma's hand. It was warm and slippery, and very, very tight. The girl was almost certainly a maiden. Her vagina seemed to ripple and stretch at the unexpected penetration. She was trembling and moaning as Emma stroked slowly in and out...

  Emma purred and bent her head to take one of those puffy nipples between her lips. She sucked almost the entire breast into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue and feeling it quiver at her touch. The walls of the maid's cunt pulsed around her fingers. She stroked a little harder, curling up to caress the roof of the girl's pussy. Mabel clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a quavering shriek.

  Oh yes... the sense of power was intoxicating... almost as enjoyable as having this done to her. She could see why Ada liked her games so much. Emma grazed the maid's puffy nipple with her teeth as she began to tease back the hood of the girl's rosebud with her thumb. Mabel let out another muffled cry. Her bottom squirmed backwards on the table. Her hips began to buck. Emma groaned as her fingers thrust and her thumb slowly circled and stroked. She should stop, before she broke the house rules, before...

  Mabel squealed as her whole body shuddered. Her tight, virgin cunt clenched and convulsed around her mistress's fingers. Her quim gushed out across Emma's hand.

  "Oh milady!" the maid croaked, her voice choked with the strain of her climax.

  Emma winced as she straightened and slid her sticky fingers from the girl's quivering cunt. The housekeeper and the other maids had made it seem so easy to bring her right to the edge of orgasm and leave her hanging. None of them had ever pushed her too far—not unless they were trying to, not until Edmund's tests had begun. It was harder than it seemed.

  Mabel was panting for breath, her mouth slack and hanging open. Her flushed bare breasts bounced as her bosom heaved. Her eyes were bulging and wide. She looked like she wanted to start giggling.

  Did the maid even know about the rule? Emma frowned as she sucked her fingers clean. The redhead tasted of honey. Perhaps she could be forgiven this once. There had been no witnesses. No one else need...

  She stiffened as the door opened. Unfortunate coincidence, or had someone been outside listening? Then again, Mabel hadn't been quiet in the embrace of the little death. The maid started at the noise, clutching at the shift bunched around her waist and pulling it up across her trembling and erect bosom.

  Emma turned. Ada was standing in the doorway, staring at them impassively. Emma trembled. She felt a flutter between her thighs. She'd just done something naughty and now the icily beautiful housekeeper was here to discipline her. She shivered at the thought, eagerly anticipating what Ada's graceful, skillful hands might do to her young, nubile body.

  The housekeeper was flanked by two maids, Daisy and Sally. Emma knew them well, they were both deceptively strong and very skilled with their tongues.

  "Bring her," Ada ordered the maids at her sides.

  Daisy and Sally darted forward, seeming to flow around Emma. Mabel squealed in surprise and alarm as they each grabbed one of the redhead's arms just below the shoulder.

  "Milady?" she stammered in confusion.

  Emma rose to her full height. "Release her," she commanded, projecting her full authority despite her nudity.

  The maids ignored her and began to drag Mabel towards the door. Emma stepped in front of them. "Ada," she said flatly. "That was an order."

  "Alas, your ladyship," the housekeeper sighed. "His lordship's orders take precedence." She looked to the maids. "Bring her to the dungeon and we shall ready the pillory."

  Mabel blinked at the words. Her mouth fell open. Emma could see panic rising in the girl's eyes.

  "Wait!" she exclaimed, raising a hand. "It was my fault, my mistake. I should suffer the consequences for breaking my husband's rules." Her anus squirmed as she spoke, anticipating its punishment. It might be more than just a cucumber this time.

  Ada shook her head, although her sapphire eyes sparkled. "Alas milady, it was not you that accepted the little death. His lordship's rules are clear, as is the punishment."

  Emma clenched her fists as she saw the desperate look Mabel gave her. "There must be something I can do," she protested.

  "Perhaps there is," a rich male voice interjected.

  Emma's eyes shot to the doorway. Her darkly handsome husband was lounging against the door frame. His eyes flitted across her naked body as he watched her with some amusement.

  "Perhaps in light of the circumstances, we can forego the pillory," he drawled.

  The housekeeper instantly snapped her fingers and the maids released Mabel who fell to her knees fighting back a sob of relief.

  "Thank you,
Edmund," Emma told her husband.

  His lips curled up in a wry smile. "She must still be punished," he replied. "She did break my rules." His dark eyes sparkled. "But I think it might be high time that my wife takes some responsibility in discipling the staff."

  ♠

  "Take off her shift," Ada ordered Daisy and Sally. The two maids scampered forward to roughly rip away Mabel's undergarments. The blushing wildly, the redhead did her best to cover herself. But her big, puffy nipples peaked through her fingers and her scarlet bush was far too untamed to be hidden by one hand.

  "Sit down, my dear," Edmund told Emma while stepping into the room. He pointed to the little wooden seat before her dressing table. "That should do nicely."

  Emma glanced at her maid, then complied. She wasn't quite sure what her husband had in mind, but if she was to administer the punishment herself, she could at least go easy on the girl—certainly much easier than a morning in Edmund's pillory.

  "Drape yourself over her ladyship's lap," the housekeeper told Mabel.

  "Milord?" the bewildered redhead stammered, peering up at her master with her big, green eyes.

  "Do it, Mabel," Emma ordered. It would be better this way.

  The timid maid glanced between her and her husband, then rose to her feet and darted over on wobbling legs. She knelt beside her mistress and bent over so that her modest bosom rested in Emma's lap.

  "Dear Lord!" Ada sighed in exasperation. "Does that look like a drape?" She snapped her fingers and the two other maids leapt forward to reposition the redhead. Mabel squealed as she was pitched forward so that only her toes and her dangling fingers touched the ground.

  Emma let out a slow breath as she looked down at the pert, young arse staring up at her from her lap. Mabel's buttocks were pale, her skin creamy and flawless. They were round and slightly plump. It was so tempting to reach down and dig her fingers into the supple, white flesh. She squirmed and shivered as she felt Mabel's bush graze her tingling rosebud. Their naked crosswise pussies were almost touching.

  "What now?" she asked her husband, a touch shortly.

  "Must I tell you?" he chuckled in reply.

  Emma pursed her lips. "I suppose not," she muttered and brought her hand down hard on Mabel's upturned and adorable arse.

  Oh! The maid's squeal of surprised pain drowned out Emma's sharp intake of breath. The lady squirmed again as she felt another tickle between her thighs. That had been unexpectedly enjoyable. She hadn't struck Mabel hard, but she'd used force enough for the girl's buttocks to squish pleasantly beneath her hand. The soft flesh was still jiggling slightly, ripples from the impact bouncing from side to side. There was a faint pink mark where her fingers had landed that seemed to almost glow. The maid's gorgeous arse suddenly looked even more succulent than it had before.

  Emma brought down her hand again, harder this time. Mabel whimpered and gasped. Was it in her mind, or had there been another thread to that cry? Had there been a little pleasure woven into the tapestry of stinging pain? Was some part of the girl enjoying this? She spanked the maid again and again, listening carefully for a hint of lust in the redhead's moans and groans. At least one of them must be highly aroused—the contact between their pussies was getting slippery and wet. Mabel was slipping forward with each sharp impact on her rosy, burning bottom. Emma had to keep pulling her slightly back.

  Smack! Emma shivered at the sound of her hardest blow yet. There was something deeply satisfying about the meaty thwack of her hand on the maid's soft flesh. The little whimper afterwards was like icing on a cake. She paused and slid her hand down between the girl's thighs, probing at Mabel's pussy with her thumb. She went in easily. The redhead's cunt was hot and wet. Some of the quim in Emma's lap was hers—some of it.

  Mabel squealed and began to writhe as Emma's thumb pushed in and curled. Hmmm... best not repeat the original sin. She slid free with a pop and struck the girl again. Those beautiful buttocks were now all mottled pink, although Emma's thumb had just left a glistening, sticky mark.

  "I think she may ready now," Edmund purred.

  Emma looked up as Ada gracefully slid behind her chair. The housekeeper reached around to hand her something. Emma took it, already knowing what it was. She unwrapped the cheesecloth carefully and handed that back to Ada. Then she gazed down at the peeled and carved ginger root in her hands.

  The housekeeper dropped the cheesecloth on the table and reached back around her mistress. Emma gasped and stiffened as Ada's slender hands began to caress and massage her bosom. She was much better at it than Mabel had been—the housekeeper knew just when to squeeze, just when to graze with the lightest of touches, when to pinch. Emma groaned as tingles of pleasure flowed through her body. Between her thighs, her pussy throbbed. Her rosebud rose, engorged and aflame. Emma wriggled her hips, grinding it against the maid's squirming body.

  "You know what to do, milady," the housekeeper purred.

  Her eyes narrowed from the outpouring of pleasure that Ada was inducing from her high, firm breasts, Emma stared at the root. She'd held them before, but only briefly. Usually her husband would have given the order by now—she'd be inserting it carefully into her own anus, bracing for fiery tickle, then the clench and the inferno that would follow. She'd never actually seen one enter another woman's arse before, let alone slid it in herself. She bit her lip as she spread Mabel's raw, red buttocks apart with the fingers of one hand and pressed the tip of the root against the maid's puckered flower. The redhead cried out in mortified surprise.

  "I'm going to fig you, Mabel," Emma whispered. "Do you know what that means?"

  Mabel stiffened as the ginger probed her tight, virgin anus. She let out a soft whimper of discomfort and confusion, then shook her head. Was she already feeling that gentle heat?

  "This is a ginger root," Emma told her softly. "I'm going to push it into your bottom now."

  The timid redhead gasped and turned her head to look up at her mistress from near the ground. Some of her long hair had come free of its bun and had fallen across her face, but Emma could still see her wide eyes shine.

  "You will feel a burn," Emma said slowly. "It will start slowly, no more than the pleasant heat when you eat gingerbread. But it will grow." She paused as Mabel's arsehole puckered. "It will be tolerable," she continued. "Unless you clench."

  She pushed harder, easing apart the petals of Mabel's anus. The girl's eyes bulged as her flower bloomed and the carved ginger slid home, plunging into her until only its flared base protruded from the maid's bottom. Emma shivered. The sight of Mabel's arsehole swallowing the root would have been arousing on any occasion, but with the housekeeper's hands skillfully caressing her breasts it made her breath catch.

  Emma gently grasped the redhead's sore buttocks in both her hands and spread them wider, eager for another look. The girl's tight anal ring was starting to flutter and twitch. Emma glanced down. Mabel's eyes had glazed over. Her face was red both from strain and the blood flowing to her head. A couple beads of sweat welled up on her forehead. Soft little whimpers fell from her slack jaw.

  This was actually quite impressive. The young maid was showing admirable self-control. Emma wasn't sure how long she'd held out herself the first few times she'd been figged. She doubted it was anywhere near as long as this. And, of course, of late she'd stopped trying to resist and had simply welcomed the flames.

  Mabel groaned, the noise unseemly—not the sound a maid should make in front her mistress and master. But Emma doubted the maid had much of a mind for manners right now. The girl's red hair was wet with perspiration. She'd begun to squirm. The bare skin of her back and legs glistened. The slick layer of lubrication between their grazing pussies was getting thicker.

  Emma watched her maid's trembling anus avidly. As her husband had told her on her wedding night, sooner or later the girl always clenched...

  The shy redhead gasped as she finally broke. Emma sucked in her breath in anticipation as she saw Mabel's pert little anus wink, embracing
the ginger root in a hot, wet hug. Ada's fingers closed hard on her mistress's nipples, pinching, almost pulling. For a moment, everything was still and silent...

  With a squeal, Mabel began to buck and thrash in Emma's lap. Her slender, shapely legs kicked up, flailing helplessly. Her torso shook, those pale, freckled breasts bouncing and jiggling. She lifted her head and howled.

  Emma closed her eyes as the maid's writhing ground into her lap, causing her thighs to rub against her own perky clitoris. Ada's hands danced on her breasts. She groaned in excitement, shifting in her seat. Her cunt was hot, her quim dripping onto the wood. She knew what the convulsions inside her meant. Mabel wasn't the only one in danger of dying the little death.

  She glanced up at her husband. Edmund was perched on the edge of the bed watching them avidly. A smile sparkled in his dark eyes. The leer of a wolf played across his handsome face. There was no mercy there.

  "I do not believe you are done disciplining the girl," he chided his wife.

  Emma bit her lip and looked down. Mabel was still wriggling in her lap. Her hands still held that adorable little bottom wide open. Reluctantly, she released her grip. Her maid's pert, glowing buttocks curled up around the base of the root. Emma could see her own overlapping handprints on the redhead's pale, firm flesh. They shivered as Mabel rocked and moaned. Her writhing had lessened—perhaps from exhaustion—but she still quivered from the burning heat.

  Trembling from the tingles spreading from her massaged bosom and the gentle pressure on her rosebud, Emma exhaled slowly. Then she brought her hand down hard in a single, stinging slap against Mabel's arse. The echo seemed to bounce between the walls.

  The maid went berserk. She'd thrashed before, but now her arms and legs were flailing wildly, all decorum forgotten in a most unseemly display. Emma spanked her again... and again... and again... The pistol cracks of her open hand striking the redhead's battered buttocks were quickly drowned out by the girl's cries of agony and need. Emma knew Mabel's anus must be clenching uncontrollably with every blow, clamping down hard on the pulpy root, wringing every drop of the scalding juice from the ginger. It would be seeping down into her rectum, like little trickles of lava. The poor girl's bowels would be on fire. Her body would be cooking in the spicy heat... and her cunt would be shuddering and trembling, caught by a confusing, gnawing, terrible hunger. Mabel's moans were no longer cries of pain, but incoherent pleas of frustration. Emma had been there—she knew the feeling well. Mabel was still a maiden. Emma doubted the girl even knew what had come over her—would she even recognize the desperate, primal need to be fucked like an animal?