The Duke Wants Her Curves: Taboo Historical BBW Forbidden Erotic Rubenesque Romance (3 page)

Life was really just a long wait now. It was two weeks after the Doctor’s visit that I was due to go to the Duke, and not much happened. I saw little of Robert before leaving. We only met once, and even that seemed to be too much for my uncle, who warned against the meeting vehemently.

‘We both know that Rob loved you, Bri. Who knows what he’ll do when he sees you? We have to protect your maidenhood!’

I didn’t quite follow what my uncle meant, but knew him to be overly cautious, and something of a curmudgeon, always seeing the worst in people. Robert wasn’t exactly jumping for joy when we met, and I did feel a little sad. His heart was obviously broken.

‘Just know, Bri,’ he said, as we made our final trip around the farm’s perimeter, ‘that if you ever need a friend, or someone to talk to, I’ll be here.’ He looked as handsome as ever in the early evening light. For a moment, I thought about leaning in, kissing him, giving him something to remember me by. But I knew that it would be much kinder to leave him without a token like that.

‘I’ll always think fondly of you, Robert,’ I said. Although it’s bad, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was on my way to a brand new, exciting life. I felt a little guilty, but knew that it hadn’t been my choice. If things had been different, maybe I would have ended up with Robert, and lived out my days as a shepherdess on a small-holding somewhere. But it was not to be.

On the day of my trip to the Duke’s estate, which was in fact on the other side of Yorkshire, I was extremely nervous. Everything seemed to be going wrong. I’d woken up with a pounding headache, and no mater how vigorously I attacked it with the brush, my hair looked so thatched, messy and nest-like that it seemed like a bird might fly out of it at any moment.

The only thing that was right was the dress, which fit me like a dream. It was shear and tight, and the white lace made me look very virginal and bride-like. I was amazed when I saw myself in the mirror. It was the swankiest and most beautiful I’d ever looked. I don’t know why, but the sudden memory of the Doctor’s hand on my private parts flashed suddenly through my head, and my cheeks reddened slightly as I looked at myself. Virginal indeed!

Then, a few minutes after I’d gotten into my dress, there was another fly in the ointment. The carriageman arrived, holding a folded package. He explained to my uncle, as I stood nervously behind him, that he had an outfit with him, which the Duke had demanded I wear to meet him. My heart dropped. I’d been looking forward so much to impressing the Duke with my brand new dress, that the thought that I’d have to wear something else made me want to cry.

‘I’m not wearing it,’ I said. ‘I’ll look like a pig, trussed up for the spit!’

My uncle turned to look at me imploringly. ‘Won’t you at least have a look, Bri.’ I obliged, and opened up the package. Inside was something which I can only really describe as a sort of belt or harness. It was strips of leather, with holes and buckles in them. There was, bizarrely, a diagram included as well, which showed a woman wearing the ridiculous thing. It barely covered her modesty.

‘There is no way on earth that I’m wearing that,’ I said. And I meant it. We argued for an hour or so, which meant that I would be seriously late to meet the Duke, and finally, after I had cried and screamed at my uncle, he relented.

‘Fine,’ he said, ‘but if you’re sent back to me because of this, and if I don’t get my money, you’re not going to be sleeping under my roof, do you understand?’

When the carriage door closed, and I watched my uncle disappear into the distance, I hoped that I would never see him again.

CHAPTER SIX

Although the Duke’s estate was still in the county of Yorkshire, it couldn’t have been any different from my uncle’s farm. Set in acres of level gardens, at the end of a long, poplar-lined avenue, stood a gigantic manor house. Built from austere local granite, the house was among the most imposing, huge building’s I’d ever seen. I’d read about the houses of parliament and Buckingham Palace, and couldn’t really imagine that either of those famous buildings could be bigger than Skipton Manor.

The coachman dropped me off right outside the main gate of the building. I gave him a warm smile, and slipped him the shilling that my uncle had pressed into my hand before I’d left, and turned to face the future. I was greeted by a kindly looking man dressed in a butler’s outfit. He smiled, but I was taken aback by the directness of his words.

‘I see that miss is not wearing the outfit which my Lord requested.’

‘Nice to meet you too,’ I said, a little perturbed by the man’s over-familiar manner.

‘Quite,’ said the butler. ‘My name is Alfred, and I’m the Duke’s manservant. I suggest that you slip out of your clothes and into the outfit provided before you meet the master, or it’s fair to say that the punishment will be swift and a little more stern than madam might be used to.’

Punishment? What on earth was this old fruit talking about. Of course I wasn’t used to punishment. I wasn’t used to it at all, because there was no reason that a husband would punish his wife.

‘I think that my new husband will be quite happy with what I’m wearing, Alfred.’ He gave me a weary look.

‘As you wish, my lady.’ He motioned to the front door, painted a deep, green colour. ‘He awaits you inside.’

The house was extremely well appointed. We walked through a grand entrance hall, decked out with paintings and sculptures, and found our way through a reception room. Then, after pushing open a large, heavy, hinged set of double doors, I saw the main hall.

This room almost felt like a kind of throne room. The Duke sat, up a few steps on a small stage at the far end of the room. There was a red carpet which ran all the way up the middle of the room and ended underneath his seat. The Duke was dressed in his full regalia, with high, broad golden shoulder-pads crowning each side of his smart navy jacket, and a pair of the most polished brogues I’d ever seen adorning his feet.

‘Finally,’ he said. His voice was as rough and deep as I’d remembered from our meeting on the fields, and he seemed even more confident and cruel now that we were in his domain. ‘Come!’ He commanded me forward, and I started the way up towards his seat. I felt terrified in his presence, and as I slowly took the long walk up to him, he started to talk to me.

‘Briony,’ he said, his huge ribcage resonating with his severe voice, ‘I find it virtually impossible to believe that you would come to me like this, not wearing the outfit which I specifically sent for you.’ I trembled a little, and remained silent. I almost felt like a young girl in front of him. His authority was absolute.

‘Before I can welcome you into my house, I’m afraid that we have the small matter of your punishment to discuss. I gave you direct instructions through the coachman to wear the outfit that I graciously bought for you, out of my own pocket. It’s an outfit becoming of my wife, appropriate to your position as my plaything. However, you disobeyed me, your new husband. Is that the way that wives are meant to act?’

I was so close to him now that I could almost smell him, his regal, masculine scent.

‘No, your excellency,’ I said, my voice trembling with fear. Why had I called him that? What had come over me?

‘That’s quite right. Now, I am afraid that I am going to have to punish you. It’s for your own good, Briony.’ When he said my name, he moved his legs so that they were slightly apart from each other, then he lightly tapped his knee with an open palm. ‘Come here. Come and lay your beautiful fat form across my lap.’

I hesitated for a moment. Was this really happening? Was he really going to make me lie across his lap and then, was he really going to smack me? A horrible thought ran through my mind - I hadn’t worn any undergarments for the trip! I was quite nude beneath my large dress - I found it much more comfortable to have my underparts in the open air, but, if he were to lift my skirts before smacking me, he’d be able to see everything! My bottom, my pubis, my little quim. The thought made me panic and when I didn’t move for a few moments he locked his grim eyes on mine.

‘Come here, right now, and lie across my lap young lady, before I lose all of my not inconsiderable patience!’

I could try to run, but the door might be locked and that frightful maid might stop me. Maybe it was for the best that I just take my punishment like a good girl. I knew that I had been defying him by wearing a coat over my dress, and he was taking me in and looking after me, as well as providing for my family. Maybe it was right that I let him discipline me as he pleased. I thought of my uncle, telling me that I had to make my new husband happy, that it was my duty to be a good wife.

Shaking with nerves, I walked up to the brute. As I was about to lay down on him, he took an elegant-looking, freshly-pressed white silken handkerchief from his top packet, and carefully laid it across his lap. ‘The doctor tells me that you were quite forthcoming with your, shall we say, juice. We don’t want any of Madame’s wetness to stain my trousers, do we?’ he asked. I’d never been asked such a vulgar question as this before, and I felt my cheeks start to burn red with embarrassment. I didn’t know what to say, so I carefully laid myself across his lap. I felt almost immediately dizzy, as I’d arranged myself so that my head was quite low down and my behind was sticking straight up in the air. I couldn’t see the Duke’s face, but I could have sworn that I heard the revolting sound of him licking his lips.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘it’s very important that you understand the reason that this is happening. It’s not because I’m cruel, or that I hate you, nothing could be further from the truth. I have,’ he said, as he started to lift the skirts of my pretty white dress and petticoat up my legs, ‘only your best interests at heart. I know that your uncle is a rather worm-like man, with no backbone whatsoever,’ he continued, revealing the backs of my gartered legs, and surely the merest hint of my bottom, ‘and in order to make a young woman strong and good, she must be taught that she can’t act in whatever way she likes, whenever she…’ He stopped short. He had seen that I was wearing no underwear.

I felt the a cold lick of a breeze on my bare bottom, I felt my tender, virginal quim totally open to the air.

‘My goodness, Briony, it seems that you’ve come quite prepared for our little encounter here today,’ said the Duke, and then I felt his rough, coarse hand on my backside.

He began to stroke my flesh, pushing my hefty buttocks away from the centre of my behind. He felt so strong, as though he could tear my flesh away from my bone should he so wish, but, for the moment at least, his movements were careful and considered.

‘You have quite an exceptional form, my dear. Quite exceptional. You’ve almost distracted me from my task.’ I felt my little pussy being pushed down into the silk of the handkerchief beneath me, my lips squashing into the fine fabric as he rested a heavy hand on me. It felt so different from my encounter with the doctor. He was so firm, so strong, so commanding.

‘Now, I’ve got the unhappy task of administering corporal punishment to your backside, my dear. I’m going to smack your bottom so hard that it turns red.’

‘Oh,’ I said, not thinking, ‘please sir, not that.’

‘Yes,’ he said, and I’m sure I heard cruel relish in his voice, ‘I’m afraid it’s my only recourse. Now, it’s imperative that you thank me after each and every slap, you hear? The punishment is ten slaps, but if you don’t thank me, they won’t count.’ It was about this point that I started to realise that I was, in fact, turning into quite the deviant. I must confess that lying on this man’s lap like this, vulnerable and open to him was filling me with that familiar thrill, that familiar dirty lust. I began to think of his eyes on my form, of his hands on my body. I wanted him to hit me. With a final squeeze of my bum, I felt the Duke lift his hand away from my flesh, and then, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, I felt his heavy hand come smacking down onto me.

My mouth opened soundlessly and my eyes widened with the pain of the strike. Little needles of red hot sensation spread out from his fingers across my flesh. I had not expected him to hit me so hard. Shocked, I remained silent.

‘Pardon me?’ said the Duke, ‘I didn’t quite hear that. We’ll have to start all over again, I’m afraid. What a dreadful shame.’ Then, without any warning, he lifted his hand again and brought it down with a hard, snapping thwack sound on my bottom, even harder than before. I felt my flesh pucker and ripple underneath him, as my body struggled to react to the pain it was experiencing.

Quick, Briony, say something, I thought to myself.

‘Tha- thank you, Duke,’ I panted, trying hard to concentrate through the shock.

‘Oh, well done, dear. What a good girl. Well, it was my pleasure.’ As he said pleasure, I’m sure I felt something poking me from his crotch. Was it his… My thoughts were broken by another slap.

‘Thank you,’ I said, as my whole body shifted forward with the power of the smack. I closed my eyes and took the pain, as it radiated around my buttocks, and through my core, all the way round to my little quim which shivered underneath me, so close to his rough hands.

He beat me again and again, and again and again I thanked him for it, and with each following strike it became easier to say thank you, even though the pain became more and more severe. I could feel the flesh of my bottom swelling and reddening with each slap as the Duke marked me, made me his. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you Duke,’ I said, and I knew that I was thanking him with sincerity, as now each slap had started to make my pussy began to beat with pleasure, with anticipation. I knew he was looking at me there, because with each strike now he was pinching my buttocks and pushing them up so that he could see that secret little place. I knew that I had started to glisten for him. Then, before I knew it, the ten slaps were up.