Thea Devine - Fascinated

"Very well," Lucinda answered, allowing him to help her to her feet, "but you men are really quite ridiculous with all your secret societies and old-fashioned ideas."

"You are brave as well as bold, m'lady," he told her. Reaching up, he pulled the pins from her chestnut hair, tossing them carelessly away. "We shall see how you feel when tonight's festivities are over and done with." He loosed her thick, heavy hair, combing it with his fingers. Then taking her arm The Master led Lady Lucinda from her prison.

Stepping out into the summer twilight, Lucinda saw they were deep in the countryside. Her prison had been a room in a garden shed. Now they traversed a large, very overgrown garden. The smell of roses was overpowering. Ahead of her she saw a well-proportioned, ivy-covered brick house. It was obviously quite old, possibly dating back to the reign of the great Elizabeth, Lucinda thought. But before they reached the house, he turned aside, leading her down a narrow, winding path and through a small orchard. Exiting the trees on the far side of the orchard, Lucinda saw before her the ruins of a round stone structure. It was roofless. As they entered, she thought the building reminded her of a miniature coliseum, for it was similar in design to the arena she had seen in Rome with Robert when they were on their honeymoon trip.

The scene was very well lit by torches that barely flickered in the warm June night. Above in the twilight sky the stars were beginning to twinkle. The stone benches were peopled by gentlemen in dark, hooded cloaks. An excited murmur arose from the crowd as The Master led his captive into the center of the arena. It was all wonderfully dramatic, Lucinda thought, vastly amused. The poor girls these men brought here for seduction must have been terrified. She, however, was not.

"Here is the female, Lady Lucinda Harrington, my lords, come to stand before your judgment for her crimes," The Master said in his cultured, but rough voice. "What say you, my lords?"

A gentleman arose. "This woman has flirted her way through the season, enticing and discarding the men who courted her," he began. She didn't recognize the voice. "She has made a vulgar mockery," the gentleman continued, "of her three worthy suitors, calling one horse-faced, the second an elephant, and the third a stork in fine feathers." A faint but restrained chuckle arose from the audience. "And what, I ask you, had they done to deserve such unkindness at this arrogant woman's hands? Each had, my lords, done her the supreme honor of asking her to become his wife. A gentleman might accept a polite refusal, my lords, no matter his disappointment, but to be publicly reviled, ridiculed, and derided? It is inexcusable!

"My lords. This woman, a widow once wed to a fine man whom we all knew, is unmanageable. Even her good brother, another gentleman we know and respect, is unable to control her bad behavior. Lady Lucinda Harrington has forgotten her place in the scheme of things. She has forgotten that a woman is an inferior being when placed alongside a man. It is therefore the judgment of the court of the Devil's Disciples that this lady be placed in the custody of The Master for a period of three months to be retrained in her proper duties as a woman. We will reconvene on the night of the September full moon, at which time Lady Lucinda will yield her person in a sweet and docile manner to her suitors, apologize for her past sins, and then choose one from among them to be her husband. Are we agreed upon this punishment, my lords?"

"Aye!" the gallery cried with one voice.

"You are ridiculous, all of you!" Lucinda shouted at them. "Am I supposed to be frightened by all your absurdities and silliness? I am not some shop girl you lust after who can be terrified into abject obedience."

"She condemns herself with her wicked words," the speaker cried. "If any of you were previously reluctant in this matter because of her station, my lords, you surely cannot be now."

"Stool!" snapped The Master, and it was immediately brought. Placing one booted foot upon it, he reached out, yanking Lucinda over his knee. Flipping up her silk night garment, he said in a loud voice, "Gentlemen, how many?"

"Ten!" came a voice.

"No, twenty!" came another voice.

"Aye, twenty good ones! Make her saucy bottom smoke!" the assemblage roared.

Surprised by his quick actions, Lucinda shrieked as a hard hand descended upon her pristine flesh. She wasn't hurt. The blow merely stung her. "How dare you!" she cried, and she attempted to squirm away from the punishing hand that continued to rain spanks upon her hapless bottom as the gallery counted out each blow aloud. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Lucinda howled as she struggled.

"Seventeen!"

"Eighteen!"

"Nineteen!"

"Twenty!" the gentlemen shouted out, and then it was over.

"Is she wet?" a voice called from the gallery. "Her little peach is as pink as a full-blown rose."

"Let us see," The Master said. He set Lucinda upon her feet before him and sat down upon the stool. A rough hand ripped her garment off.

Dizzy, Lucinda found herself at a great disadvantage as his big hand reached out, pushing itself between her thighs to ex-amine her. Then pulling her forward he drew her down hard, his penis propelling itself past her nether lips and straight up her cunt. "Wooooo!" Lucinda gasped, taken utterly unawares.

The Devil's Disciples cheered enthusiastically, calling out encouragements to The Master.

"Give her a good fucking, sir!"

"Make the vexatious bitch howl!"

"You devil!" Lucinda groaned in his ear.

"How long?" he demanded boldly.

"Too long!" she countered as their bodies writhed and thrust.

"How long?" he repeated.

"At least four years," she admitted, her blush evident.

"Then I shall, for both of us, and for our rather salacious audience, make you come, my Lady Lucinda."

"Never before these beasts!" she cried, but his probing and nimble weapon was already, despite her best efforts, beginning to have its effect upon her. "Oooooooo!" Lucinda sobbed.

"I am going to tame you, you delicious little wildcat," The Master whispered in her ear, his tongue foraging about the whorl of it. "I am going to turn you into a sweet little house kitten, Lucinda."

"Never!" she hissed in his ear, biting the lobe hard. Then she let herself go, and the orgasm rolled over her, rendering her almost unconscious with the pleasure.

He came in a great explosion of juices, and he hadn't wanted to-not just yet. He groaned. She was going to provide him with a summer's worth of challenges, and the knowledge of it excited him. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed his work. Remembering himself, and where they were he lifted her off his lap and stood her on her feet.

Lucinda swayed, but barely conscious. Then she felt him fasten something about her neck, and opening her eyes she saw the delicate-filigreed gold chain which he attached to a thin leather leash. She looked questioningly at him.

"One final bit of theater," he murmured so that only she could hear him. "You will obey me, Lucinda, or I will cane you before these gentlemen who so very much desire your mastering. I know you can bear a spanking, but you will not be able to withstand a caning. Your cries of anguish will but give them pleasure. Certainly you do not wish that. We will leave the arena now, and you will lift your legs high, trotting like a well-schooled pony for the gallery as we circle the ring. I may once, or twice, flick my crop at your bottom as we go, and a tiny shriek will greatly please the Devil's Disciples. Do you understand me, Lucinda?"

She nodded.

"And you will cooperate? I do not want to hurt you, but I will if I must."

"It is degrading," she whispered.

"It is," he agreed. "But is it any more degrading than being fucked before them and enjoying it? Are you ready?"

She sighed, but then nodded again.

"Now, my lords, we bid you adieu until the September moon," The Master said to the assembled gentlemen. "Hup!" He tugged lightly upon the thin braided-leather leash and smacked her bottom with his crop.

Giving a little cry, Lucinda began to trot smartly by his side, her slender, well-shaped legs pushing high, her head up. To her embarrassment she found her ample breasts were bouncing as she trotted. She unfocused her gaze as she ran around the ring at his side, and then they were gone, out the entrance to the sound of appreciative cheers. Lucinda slowed to a walk. "What will they do now?" she asked her companion.

"Spend a glorious summer's evening drinking my wine and fucking the local girls I have brought from the village for them. Your Polly will join the festivities. She is of a mind to see which of her future masters pleases her the best," he told her.

"And what are we to do?" Lucinda wondered.

"We are going to get to know one another better, my pet,"

The Master told her. "I have only three months in which to turn you from an independent, outspoken wench into an obedient and meek lady."

"It will not happen," Lucinda warned him. "You are wasting your time if you think you can change me, sir. I have always been thought self-centered, and I probably am. Where are we going?"

"To my house," he said, leading her back through his orchard and gardens to the ivy-covered brick structure.

"Where is this place?" she asked him.

"All I will tell you is that you are in Oxfordshire," he replied. "The nearest village is seven miles away, and I have no near neighbors. When I am not going about my duties for the Devil's Disciples, I raise and train racing horses." He opened a small door, ushering her into the house. Then he led her into a hallway and up a flight of stairs. "I believe you will find your quarters far more comfortable here than the ones you had last night."

"Where are your servants?" she asked him.

"I have few, and before you query me further, they are used to my ways. Indeed, they often assist me in my endeavours."

"Will you continue to wear your mask, sir?"

"I will. Afterward we might meet in polite society. I should not like you to be embarrassed, Lucinda, by such a meeting, nor your husband either." He opened another door, and they entered into a large bedroom.

The walls of the room were paneled. The large bowed window opened out onto the gardens. The casements were lead-paned. There was, to Lucinda's relief, a big fireplace on the wall facing the great oaken bedstead with its red velvet tapestried bed hangings. There was a standing chest on another wall and an upholstered chair by the hearth.

"Where is Polly to sleep?" Lucinda demanded.

"There is a little chamber next to this room that Polly may call her own. She will spend many nights, I expect, in other beds," he said.

"Yours?" she replied scathingly.

The Master laughed. "Nay, my pet. I shall be spending my nights in your bed, teaching you how to be a good and obedient woman."

"I want a bath," Lucinda said. "I am sticky with your sweat and your juices, sir."

"Of course," he said pleasantly. "I shall have my servants arrange it, and they will help you as Polly is otherwise occupied. I must go back to the amphitheater to make certain the lasses from the village have arrived and all is as it should be." He bowed, and then was gone from the bedchamber, leaving Lucinda standing naked, and not just a little angry.

She gazed about her, shivering, for the evening was growing cool. The door to her bedchamber opened. She looked desperately about her for something with which to cover herself. She did not find it. A bare-chested, liveried footman in a white wig hurried into the room, going immediately to the fireplace to light the fire already laid there. He then rose and, turning, smiled at Lucinda, who was attempting to strategically hide behind the bed's draperies. The footman bowed.

"The bath is being brought, m'lady. Is there a particular fragrance that you prefer?"

"Lavender," Lucinda managed to say.

"Very good, m'lady," he said. "My name is John. My companions and I will be servicing you. Ahh, here is the bathtub. It's probably a bit old-fashioned to a London lady, but we can bathe you quite nicely in it," John assured her.

"I am quite capable of bathing myself," Lucinda said haughtily.

"We have our orders, m'lady," John said quietly.

She stood silent as the round oak tub was filled by two other footmen. John disappeared from the chamber for a brief few moments, returning with a vial he poured into the tub. Immediately the scent of lavender filled the room. With a smile he held out his hand to Lucinda as the two other footmen fussed about, laying towels across a towel rack they placed be-fore the fire. Taking the footman's hand, she allowed him to settle her in the tub. What else was she to do?