Thea Devine - Fascinated

"Wake up, Lucinda! It is time for your morning spanking," The Master said.

Lucinda groaned, and turned over upon her back as he tore the coverlet from her protesting frame. "Is it morning already?"

"Yes. Now come and receive your spanking, wench!"

"Why?" she asked him.

The Master laughed, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "If you are to be totally convincing to the Devil's Disciples, Lucinda, you must practice absolute obedience."

"But am I not to be in charge, sir?" she queried.

"You are," he replied, "but in order to really be in command of any situation, you must be perfectly self-disciplined. You cannot be unless you rid yourself of your fears. Instant obedience to a command can only be obtained by two methods: either fear of chastisement if you don't obey, or the knowledge that even in obedience you are in total and full mastery of yourself. Do you understand me, Lucinda?"

"I do!" she exclaimed, truly excited and amazed by this new knowledge. "I really do, sir! How clever you are. Let us begin again if you please." She smiled at him.

"Good morning, Lucinda," he said. "It is time for your spanking."

She arose, and put herself over his lap, turning over her left shoulder a moment to wink at him. "Yes, Master," she said. And then she wiggled her bottom at him.

"Excellent, you remembered," he approved. Then he spanked her ten firm blows, turning the flesh beneath his hand quite pink, noting that she rubbed herself against his leg after the first few spanks. He slipped his hand beneath her and smiled, well satisfied. "You are nicely wet, my lady, and it took but ten, not the twenty I gave you last night. That is an excellent improvement. Now up, wench, and on your back, legs spread. I have a little surprise for you." He drew an object from the pocket of his breeches and displayed it for her to see.

"What is it?" she asked him, lying back. Then her eyes grew wide. "Ohh! It looks like a big cock! Oh, let me see! What is it made of, sir? It has these little spikey nubs upon it." Lucinda could feel herself beginning to throb with mounting excitement as she viewed the object. It was made of leather, but other than the little nodules that decorated it, it was quite smooth. At its base it had a round ivory handle by which he held it.

"It is called a dildo, my pet," The Master told her. "It is going to give you a great deal of pleasure this morning while I am training my horses. Alas, I cannot amuse myself with you all day." Then drawing another article from his pocket, he wrapped it about her right wrist first, then her left wrist, and attached the two twisted silk cords to two brass hooks hidden high up on the bed's headboard.

Lucinda tested her bonds, then said, "I've never been tied before. Robert and I spoke on it." She was just the tiniest bit afraid, but she fought down her fear as he bound her spread legs to the carved bedposts at the bottom of the bed. Her bot-torn was still tingling from her spanking, and it was really very exciting. After all, her life was not in jeopardy.

"The ropes are not too tight?" he asked her as he pushed a hard, round bolster beneath her hips so her furry quim was quite visible.

"How long must I remain this way?" she asked him.

He smiled wickedly. "I shall tell you shortly, my pet, but now it is time for you to have a little refreshment." Walking across the room, he went to the tray on the sideboard and poured a small cordial. Coming back to her side, he carefully braced her so she might drink it all down. "It will help to raise the level of your excitement, Lucinda. The Devil's Disciples like to use such methods, for they lack imagination."

"An aphrodisiac? Lucinda asked him.

He nodded.

"I've never had one," she said.

"I should expect not," he chuckled. "It is not usual for respectable married ladies to have access to such things."

"It tastes like strawberries. I had some last night. Is that why I was so uninhibited, sir?" she wondered.

"I believe you would be uninhibited without the benefits of an aphrodisiac," he told her, "but for now it is better you have it."

"When are you going to impale me with the dildo?" she queried, her eyes going to it again. "Will it hurt me?"

"The object is to give pleasure, not pain, my pet," he told her quietly. Then The Master bent over, and his lips met hers. Tenderly at first, but then as his own desires were aroused, his kiss became more passionate. Lucinda's mouth beneath his was warm and sweet. For a brief moment he thought like the man he really was and became lost in her almost innocent passion. Then he caught himself and drew away.

"That was nice," Lucinda said. "I quite liked your kiss. Do it again, Master." Then she saw the look in his eye and quickly said, "No, I think not, but perhaps another time." She smiled at him. "Is that better, sir? Am I more tempting, and quite heartless?"

"Yes, Lucinda, that was quite perfect, my pet," he agreed, but something inside him wished that they had kissed again. He gave himself a little shake. Then crossing the room again, he took a small silver bowl from a cabinet along with a vial of special oil. It, too, was an aphrodisiac. Upon bringing the items back to the bedside table, he poured some oil into the bowl and dipped the dildo into it. "How do you feel?" he asked her.

"I want to be fucked," she told him bluntly.

"Then, you are ready," he said, and lying next to her on the bed, he began to slowly insert the dildo into her love sheath.

It felt… it felt very different from a man's cock, she thought, and yet it was incredibly exciting. He began to frig her with the dildo, and Lucinda gave a little shriek of surprise. The tiny nubs teased and irritated her love sheath until she was struggling against her bonds in a desperate effort to obtain release. "Ohhh!" she cried. He worked the dildo even harder, and faster. "Ohhh!" Lucinda moaned.

"See how long you can hold out," he instructed her in a careful voice. "The more you can bear it, the better your performance, and the more your suitors will feel they have a mastery over you; but it will be you who obtain this incredible pleasure, Lucinda."

"I can't," she sobbed, and her juices flowed down the dildo, "Oh God! Oh God!" Her lithe body shuddered. Then her eyes, which had been tightly shut, opened, and she looked at him. "That was wonderful!" she breathed with a hearty sigh. "Do it again!"

He laughed. "You are truly insatiable, Lucinda." He slowly reinserted the dildo into her body. "It will remain there, my pet, for the morning." Then he stood up. "I must go now and see to my horses. John and the others will come and service you when it is necessary. When the mere sensation of the dildo within you can make you come, Lucinda, then you will have mastered it, instead of the other way around." Bending, he kissed her gently and then departed the bedroom.

He hurried to his own bedchamber, and stripping the leather breeches off, he put on his riding clothes. He needed to get out of the house, and think. Lucinda Harrington had confused his senses. He realized that he didn't want to teach her the erotic arts so she could practice them on other men. But what choice did he have? If he refused to go along with her clever plan, he was ruined. He had not the slightest doubt she would not cooperate with the Devil's Disciples. She would gain her will.

Leaving his bedchamber, he descended the staircase and met John, the footman, at the bottom. "Lady Lucinda will need tending to over the morning, John. You and the others see to it, remembering she is a lady, not one of our usual guests."

"Very good, m'lord," the footman replied.

The Master moved out of the house and went to the stables where his horse was already saddled and waiting. Mounting the beast, The Master rode out of the stableyard and into the countryside. His thoughts were very troubled. For the first time since he had gotten involved with the Devil's Disciples, he had regrets. How overbearing and disdainful of women were its members. And he had been just as bad as they. No one had ever been hurt physically, but a number of young women, reluctant to yield themselves to the nobility, had been seduced into compliance. And most of them had fallen in love with him first. Now fate was repaying him in kind. He barely knew Lucinda, but he was falling in love with her.

He looked about his lands as he rode. The fields were green with summer. His horses were sleek and well cared for, their coats shining. The mares gamboled with the colts that had been born this year. In another field were a half dozen yearlings racing with one another. In the far pasture was his prize stallion, Rhamses, a great chestnut animal which he had raised from a colt. Rhamses had raced for him for two years and had won enough purses that allowed The Master, along with the fees he garnered from the Devil's Disciples, to maintain his small holding.

A few hundred acres remained of what had once been a great estate of several thousand acres. Some of it had been confiscated in the civil wars a hundred years ago. As King Charles had promised not to give back the confiscations to their original owners upon his restoration, those acres had been lost to his family. And then his great-grandfather, his grandfather, and his father had all been gentlemen who believed that their purses could never be emptied no matter how extravagantly they lived. They had, upon the discovery that their funds were low, sold off property.

The women they married came with smaller dowries each generation because his antecedents had less to offer and could therefore not attract wealth. His own mother had not been of noble birth, but rather the daughter of landed gentry. Her portion was small, and his father, a charming wastrel, had gambled it away before his own birth. His mother died shortly thereafter. His father had drunk himself into his grave by the time The Master was thirteen. His paternal grandmother, a kind but stern woman, had raised him with a strong sense of his family's history and honor. She had died when he was twenty, and had been the only woman he ever admired, for she was strong. She had refused to be victimized by either her husband or her son. She had been her own woman, very much like Lady Lucinda Harrington.

His grandmother would certainly not have approved of his occupation as a glorified whoremaster to the nobility. Only one man among the Devil's Disciples knew his identity, its founder, Sir Derek Bowen. He had gone to school with Derek Bowen, who was a few years his senior. Derek had always admired his ability to defuse a situation and bring others around to his will.

"Join us," he had said to his friend.

"I have no taste for rape," The Master had replied.

"Most of these girls are ill-bred," came the reply. "They just need to be persuaded to lift their skirts for their betters. You could be the one to cajole them for us. Get them used to fondling and frigging. Suck their little titties and tweak their little exciters. Then when they are eager for it, bring them to us, and we'll pick their cherries. Many will go on to become mistresses, a far better life than slopping hogs for a brutish husband or sewing until they go blind. The Devil's Disciples give these lasses a chance at a better life. We will call you The Master, old friend. You will be well compensated for your efforts. Think what those monies can do for you. I know you are in debt. You can clear that debt using your powers of persuasion and still have monies to maintain your estate as well. No one will ever get hurt, I swear it," Sir Derek Bowen had promised him.

"I will think on it," The Master had replied. Then he had gone to London to visit his father's former mistress, to ask her advice in the matter.

"They will have these poor girls if they mean to even if you don't cooperate with them," Marianne had told him. "Better someone kind at least prepare them, my dear boy, and God knows you could charm a duck into a roasting pan."

He had laughed. "I will need more than just words," he told her. "Will you help me?"

She had agreed and had taken him to several shops, all located in dark alleys off less-than-respectable streets. There he had been introduced to a variety of sexual toys that might be used, he was assured by the oily shopkeepers, to convince the most reluctant lass to yield herself to her lover. He had also been influenced to design and have made several other articles for his new practice. Afterward he had given Marianne a small piece of family jewelry to thank her. She had accepted graciously, telling him to visit her the next time he came up to London. Her meaning was most clear. The idea of lying with his father's old mistress, who was certainly no longer in the first flush of youth, had appalled him. He had kissed her hand and departed.