The Border Lord's Bride (39 page)

"Do not do this, I beg you," Ellen half sobbed. She struggled to stay calm, but she could think of no way to extricate herself from the situation in which she found herself. If he had his way with her Duncan would no longer love her. How could he, when another man had used her body?

"Kill me," she begged him. "Take my body home to Duffdour and throw it before the gates and make your revenge against my husband complete. Do not, I beg you, my lord, spoliate me. Do not!" Tears, unbidden, began to slip down her lovely face. Furious with herself, Ellen bit her lip.

"There, there, madam, is not one cock the same as another? Oh, perhaps one is thicker or longer, but is not a manly cock a cock?"

"I have known none but Duncan Armstrong," Ellen half sobbed. Oh, Duncan, why has this

happened to us? she thought desperately.

"Indeed, madam, you were a virgin when you wed your husband? I had heard that all Scots girls were unchaste. You are all certainly free with your kisses, and many an eager lass I have swived on your side of the border." He bent to kiss her breast while a hand trailed down her torso in leisurely fashion.

"I was a virgin!" Ellen cried.

"Nay, you were a slut and a whore like all women, madam. And now you shall whore for me, won‘t you? Oh, perhaps at first you will play reluctant, but in the end you will beg for my cock, and I will fill your cunt with fire. You should already be beginning to simmer with your lust." He put the vial to her surprised lips again, shoving it swiftly into her mouth, tipping the remaining contents down her throat before pulling it out and dropping it back into the basket by the bed.

"What have you given me?" she cried, trying to regurgitate the liquid, but it had slid swiftly down her gullet, into her belly, and even now seemed to be pooling with a ferocious heat into her nether regions. Her body was suddenly awash with unsatisfied lust. Ellen‘s eyes grew wide and fearful. "What have you done?" she repeated.

"Just given you a little something to release your reluctance, madam. This mask of chastity and discipline you have worn these few months grows wearisome." His fingers slid into the bright curls at the junction of her thighs.

"Don‘t!" Ellen‘s voice was shaking. Only Duncan had ever touched her there.

He smiled down into her frightened face as a single finger insinuated itself between her plump nether lips seeking, seeking.

She whimpered.

And reaching the tiny bud of her sex, he let the ball of his finger stroke that little nub of flesh, finding its minuscule pearl as Ellen bit her lip till it bled to keep from crying out. "There, my pretty slut, does it not feel sweet? You mustn‘t be ashamed to tell me." He bent his head and brushed his tongue across her lips. "Shall I show you what else my tongue can do, madam?" He trailed the wet organ over her breasts, licking slowly at the nipples.

Ellen strained against her bonds, but they held her fast. She was so immobilized that she could not even bring her bound arms back over her head to hit him. Her body was burning with desire now—a desire not experienced by her emotions.

She was aching with her own lust because of the aphrodisiac he had forced upon her, but she would do whatever she could to prevent his violating her totally. She closed her eyes, still dizzy, as she sought to shut him out. She wanted to taunt him, but she knew that could prove dangerous.

Roger Colby was unsatisfied, but, to his annoyance, his cock lay limp. Where was the victory unless he could fuck her? Still, he had promised himself that he would not have her the first night. He would torture her tonight, leave her for the next two days to wonder when her final violation would take place, realizing with each passing hour that there was no escape for her, knowing that in the end her lust-wracked body would yield to him because she had no other choice. He stifled a groan of irritation, but she was disciplined, and he had deliberately avoided taken the aphrodisiacs he needed now to perform as a man. Had needed ever since his mistress had betrayed him. Angry with the memory he leaned over and drew an item from the basket. It was a large phallus made of polished ash wood. He would make her cry out as he had cried out before this night was over.

Bending over her, he said, "Open your eyes, slut," and when she did, he asked, "Do you know what this is, madam? It is called a dildo, and it has been modeled after my own cock. There is a small discreet shop in London where such things may be done. I was fed a stimulant, and when my cock was fully aroused it was well oiled, then covered in wax which was allowed to harden.

The wax was then slowly, carefully slipped from my manhood and fitted upon a cold metal form.

Then the shop‘s owner, a master carver by trade, carved this for me using the wax model as his guide. When he was done the next day I returned, and the now-cold wax form was slipped over it to show me it was indeed me. It fit perfectly, for the carver is a true artisan. I was then given the wax model to destroy, which I did."

Ellen‘s eyes were wide as she looked at the dildo. It was fascinating in a repellent sort of way.

She shivered as he ran it along her lips, and then she watched with horror as he oiled the phallus slowly, carefully, holding it by a long carved silver handle.

Reaching into his basket, he pulled out a small, hard bolster pillow and jammed it beneath her hips. Now her sex was fully visible and available to him. He rubbed the tip of the dildo over the wet, swollen lips. Then he spread those nether lips and touched her love bud with the phallus.

Ellen shivered hard, biting on her lips again. Her body was afire with a terrible need. It was similar to what she felt with her husband, yet there was also fear mixed with her desire. It both confused and frightened her. There was no love here. No passion. Then why did she want to be fucked? And Ellen knew that she did. Was she indeed a slut and a whore, as he was so fond of saying? She felt the head of the phallus at the opening to her sheath, and shuddered with her need.

"Yes, my pretty slut," he purred in her ear hotly. "But you shall not have it tonight. You are really not quite ready for such passion. Tomorrow, my pretty slut, or perhaps the day after that, or in another week, and there will be no need for this delightful replica of my most excellent attribute. I shall mount you myself without delay. You will not escape me," Roger Colby told her as he freed her from her bonds. Then he arose from the bed, gathered up his basket and garment, and left her.

When she had stopped trembling, when her legs would hold her upright, Ellen got up from the bed and, after filling the ewer with water from the pitcher in the ashes of the hearth, scrubbed her body until it was red and raw. She took the chemise he had cut off of her and threw it into the fire, where it immediately burned. She tore the bedding from the bed and flung it out the window onto the rocks below. Then, dressing herself, she went into the dayroom and lay down before its hearth, sobbing wildly. Her body began to shake, and for some time she could not stop the tremors that rocked her, almost tearing her asunder. She had to escape Colby Castle. She had to!

Ellen knew she could not go through another night such as she had just experienced. She just couldn‘t! Having him touch her with his soft hands and put his mouth on her and that awful phallus he had displayed had been horrid. The next time, there would be no escape for her. In the end, Ellen realized—and the tears flowed as she thought it—she was going to have to throw herself from the windows of her tower prison. Would God forgive her? Finally she cried herself into sleep, exhausted, weary, and despairing.

In the morning, however, it was the sergeant who came to fetch her down to the hall. While she knew he was loyal to Sir Roger, she had found him a decent man.

"Did you fall, lady?" he asked her, sounding concerned and pointing at her face. "There is a bruise upon your cheek."

"Aye," she lied. "I did. Is my hair neat? My gown?" she asked him.

"Aye." He nodded. "All is well but for the bruise."

In the hall Sir Roger beckoned her to the high board, and the meal was served: oat porridge in bread trenchers, a cottage loaf, hard-boiled eggs, and bacon. Ellen nodded to the master of the house and sat down to eat.

"You will need your nourishment now," he said to her with a smirk.

Ellen said nothing, afraid if she did he would send her from the table hungry. She needed a clear head because she needed to think. There had to be a way to escape Sir Roger and Colby Castle.

There must be!

"I have been considering the best way to rid my king of the thorn he has been complaining about.

I will, of course, need a bit of help. While you were in your dungeon, madam, there was another prisoner there as well. Did you ever have the pleasure of meeting Ian Johnston?"

"The laird who betrayed our Scotland?" Ellen replied in a pleasant tone. "Nay, my lord, I have not met him. The other border lords were aware of his duplicity, and therefore did not invite him to their gatherings. He has been below?"

"Aye, but Rafe has gone to bring him up. If he helps me I will tell him he may have his freedom," Sir Roger said.

"If I were in your position, my lord," Ellen told him, "I would use him, and then kill him so he could no longer cause me difficulty."

Roger Colby laughed. "You‘re a clever lass," he said, nodding. "Perhaps you are right, and I should drown him in Solway Firth."

"Is that the water I see from my windows? I thought it was the sea," Ellen said.

"Solway Firth opens into the Irish Sea," he told her. "This castle sits on a small hook of land overlooking them both."

"Oh," Ellen said, feigning disinterest. Now, she thought, I have a better idea of where I am. But what good will it do me?

"Ahh," Sir Roger said, "here is our other guest, madam. Come in, Johnston! Come in! You are not looking well at all, I fear."

Ian Johnston stumbled across the hall to stand before the high board. He was filthy, and stank so badly that even from her seat Ellen could smell his stench. His hair was to his shoulders, and his growth of beard hung lankly down his chest. It was obvious that he was having difficulty seeing in the daylight of the hall, and Ellen understood that from her time in Sir Roger‘s dungeons.

"You do not look well," Roger Colby repeated in solicitous tones. "I did give orders to keep you alive, you know. Surely you have not been poorly treated."

"How long have I lived in your cellars?" Ian Johnston‘s voice rasped roughly.

Roger Colby appeared to consider the query, and then he said, "At least five months, sir. It took us a good month to run you to earth after you betrayed me."

"I told you before that I did not betray you! I sent two men to warn you before the others attacked," the prisoner insisted. "I didn‘t know when, but I knew they would."

"Yet neither of these alleged messengers reached me," Sir Roger replied.

"Of course they didn‘t," Ellen said. "I told you, my lord, that the others were aware of this laird‘s treason, and did not include him in their plans. A watch was set on his tower, and his messengers were killed. Their deaths were quick and merciful, unlike that of his wife, whom this villain beat to death."

"Who is this bitch, Colby?" Ian Johnston demanded to know. "Your latest whore? Do not dare to point a finger at me, you slut! My wife was useless, and deserved every beating that I gave her. If she were stronger, she might have lived, but because she was weak she died, as the bairns I put in her belly died. Four of them in as many years, and she could not bring one healthy and whole into this world. A useless bitch."

"You see, madam," Sir Roger murmured in her ear. "Even he recognizes you as a whore and a slut." Reaching out, he pulled her over and then down into his lap, fondling her breasts as he did.

"So, Johnston, she has cleared your good name for you. Thank her prettily, or I shall send you below again, and not give you the opportunity to return to my good graces."

"Who am I thanking?" Ian Johnston wanted to know.

"Why, this is the laird of Duffdour‘s wife, sir. I stole her away from him, and she will be well used by the time I send her back to him," Sir Roger said.

Ian Johnston grinned, showing blackened teeth. "God‘s hoary head, Colby, you truly are a devil.

Armstrong‘s bride, is it? I hope you fuck her well before you let her go. ‘Tis a bold fellow you are! I don‘t suppose you would consider sharing the loot?"

Roger Colby smiled. "I shall indeed consider it, sir. Now, I am going to need your help. May I assume you are not averse to killing James Stewart?"

Johnston‘s mouth fell open, but then, recovering, he said, "Nay. It makes no difference to me who sits on the throne, for I know it will never be me."

"Excellent," Sir Roger said. "Rafe, take our guest to clean up, and give him new garments. And, Johnston, you will bathe yourself with both water and soap. The stink of you is not a pretty fragrance, eh, madam?" He tipped Ellen‘s face to his and kissed her lips. "She takes to discipline well, as you can see," he told Johnston, turning Ellen‘s face to show him the bruise upon her cheek.

"I‘m glad to see you aren‘t afraid to administer a bit of a beating to a recalcitrant woman," Ian Johnston remarked. "I can see she hasn‘t been eager for your attentions." And he laughed. "Have you fucked her yet?"

Roger Colby chuckled. "The wench is comely, sir. I have held her here as my prisoner for the past three months. What do you think? Go and get cleaned up now. We have much talking to do, and much planning." He turned back to Ellen, who sat uncomfortably in his lap. "Tonight, madam, you will yield all to me." His hand slid beneath her skirts, slipping up her leg to push past her nether lips.

His fingers played with her while Ellen made every effort to remain still and unfeeling. But when he pushed two fingers into her sheath and began to move them, slowly, slowly, then faster and faster, she could not contain herself. A sob escaped her, and then a small cry as she shattered with his obscene attentions. Shamed, she hid her face in her hands and wept softly.

He took his hand from her body. "Look at me," he commanded her, and she obeyed, her eyes widening with shock as he took the two fingers that had been buried within her and slowly sucked them noisily. "You are delicious, madam," he said.