Their Master's Pleasure (17 page)

After a few moments the tension in her limbs eased and I reached down with my free hand to grasp the candle. I made no attempt to work it in and out as I had with Belinda, but simply moved the end round and around in circles. Queenie gasped, her buttocks raising off the table in an instinctive attempt to draw away from the unwelcome intruder. This presented no difficulties, however, for my hand simply rose with her, never pausing in its endeavours.

‘Are you comfortable, my dear?' I asked.

‘Ahhh! Not... not entirely, sir. Ahhh!'

I waggled the candle rapidly from side to side - which provoked a soft wail from the unfortunate woman - glancing at Nigel as I did so. He had been observing his watch closely and now he nodded. ‘Time.'

And so it went on; and it seemed to me our victim was less troubled by the punishment her vulva received, painful as that might be, than with the humiliating anal probing to which I subjected her. When it was over and she limped away to join Belinda and Elizabeth on the sofa, it was her sore rear passage Queenie rubbed and not the front.

And then, finally, it was the turn of my ward, at whom I levelled my most penetrating gaze. ‘Ursula,' I said, in a commanding tone, ‘you will now strip for punishment.'

Though she rose to her feet without hesitation and met my eyes resolutely enough, the paleness of her cheeks along with the rapid rise and fall of her bosom spoke of her deep unease. Clearly the thought of being strapped on her breasts was causing her much consternation. Nevertheless she removed the red dress and her underclothes, then stood meekly awaiting further instructions.

It was to be the chair again, but sitting rather than standing. At my command she straddled it as Belinda had done, facing rearwards, then sat down and leaned forward. I proceeded to lift her breasts over the top of the chair back, but unfortunately this proved too low to achieve the effect I was seeking. I wanted her bosom to appear as it had done in the red dress, pushed up high, the cleft deep and inviting, so I asked Ogden to fetch me a large towel. When that item was rolled up tight and slipped under Elizabeth's breasts, the result was perfect.

Humphrey and Nigel had agreed to share ‘candle duties' between them. While I busied myself with the preparations the pair had been arguing good-naturedly over who would go first - an argument Humphrey won by invoking his rights as honoured guest. He now took up that which had proved such a trial to Elizabeth's fellow slaves and crouched down behind her, his expression one of eager anticipation as he studied her bottom. I in turn took up the tawse, slapping it against my palm in time-honoured fashion, and chose to study her face. She was anxious, of course, for she had never before been beaten in this manner and must surely be fearing the worst.

‘You must tilt your head back and hold that position,' I warned her. ‘If you lower your head at the wrong moment I might inadvertently strike your face, which would be most regrettable. Do you understand?'

‘Yes, sir,' she said, lifting her chin and looking more apprehensive than ever.

Without further ado, I raised the tawse and brought it down smartly on her left breast. She let out a heartfelt gasp and rose halfway to her feet.

‘Down!' I commanded.

She lowered herself reluctantly, as though onto a medieval spiked torture chair. The towel beneath her breasts had fallen to the floor when she moved, so I retrieved it and slipped it back in place. While I was so occupied Humphrey busied himself with the candle, treating me to the marvellous sight of Elizabeth's face at close quarters as the thing breached her. Her grimace of discomfort and distaste as my friend worked the candle in her rectum was wondrous to behold.

When Nigel called time I stepped forward and put my fingers beneath her chin, tipping it up in silent reminder of my warning concerning her face. I paused to allow her to compose herself, then raised the tawse once more and struck her right breast. Knowing what to expect she managed to remain seated, though she gasped as before. Then it was Nigel's turn with the candle, an opportunity our host did not waste. Indeed, he worked her enthusiastically and rather more vigorously than Humphrey, to judge from her expression and the sounds she made. And so we went on in this fashion, turn and turn about - and a thoroughly enjoyable interlude it was too, at least for the three men involved. I doubt Elizabeth would say the same, but then she had no one to blame but herself. Slaves spanking masters, indeed!

All good things come to an end, however, and finally her ordeal was over. She stood up and rubbed her breasts, looking considerably subdued. While our slaves dressed we masters chatted happily, in high spirits after such a splendid evening's entertainment. Belinda waited her chance, then drew me to one side.

‘I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten our date for tonight,' she murmured. ‘Shall I come to your room, or will you come to mine?'

‘The day I forget a date with the most desirable woman in England,' I said gallantly, ‘I trust one of my friends will take his twelve bore and put me out of my misery. My room, I think - and the first thing you can expect, I warn you now, is fifteen minutes over my knee.'

‘Have I done something wrong,' she asked with a smile, ‘or is it just fun and games?'

‘Both. You absented yourself from the house this morning and allowed Elizabeth to do the same, so depriving me of the opportunity to cane you together. Humphrey may have suggested it, even insisted upon it, but I regard that as no defence. You went missing, which is what matters to me. That is the crime for which you are to be punished, madam. Undoubtedly, however, I shall have fun dispensing justice.'

 

Belinda clearly thought I was teasing her over the promised spanking, for she looked more than a little surprised when, in the privacy of my room that evening, I drew her across my knee, raised her satin nightgown and proceeded to warm up her delightful bottom.

‘Ouch!' she cried. ‘But Jamie... oooh! Surely you weren't serious... ohhh!'

‘Never more so, my dear,' I said, as I swiped at her round little buttocks.

They were little more than love taps, in fact, for I merely wished to remind her who was master here - though in truth, Belinda was no one's slave. I slapped away cheerfully, therefore, till her bottom assumed a rosy glow, at which point I allowed her to rise.

‘Beast!' she said, affecting a pout and rubbing her behind. ‘You enjoy spanking me, don't you?'

‘Unquestionably,' I said. ‘Which is why I intend to do it again tomorrow - though it will be a great deal harder and of
much
longer duration.'

All teasing chatter ceased once we were in bed, for I had been obliged to wait far too long for this moment. Now that she was mine at last I was determined to waste not a single minute. I sucked her nipples, then ran my tongue down over her ribs and poked it in her belly button. That drew forth a giggle, which soon turned into a gasp as I went lower still. I licked her slit and nipped her clitoris gently with my teeth, flicking it with the tip of my tongue.

‘Jamie... oh God!' she panted. ‘Fuck me, right now!'

Master I may be and Belinda my slave for the night, but there are times when a slave commands and a master has little choice but to obey - and this, I'm happy to say, was one. I climbed aboard and impaled her, and Belinda raised her knees to permit deeper penetration. I began to move in her, slowly at first, for I needed to conserve my strength. This was to be no quick frolic; no hasty union followed by an equally hasty goodnight kiss. Belinda was a sweet and tender lover who deserved my most considerate and thorough attentions. Slow and steady, that was the way - for now at least. Later things would be very different indeed.

 

 

 

When I awoke the next morning - somewhat later than usual and feeling rather drained, I have to say - Belinda was gone. I washed and dressed, then made my way downstairs without delay. I was hoping to find Elizabeth, for I needed to speak with her urgently. This was the third day of Exiles and I hadn't yet spanked my ward - an omission I was determined to rectify. There was no sign of her, however, so after breakfast I once again made enquiries of the butler, only to learn she had gone off early with Mr Porton-Jones. I could scarcely believe my ears: it seemed Humphrey was determined to thwart me at every turn. As before, there was little I could do but take my constitutional and wait for their return.

The weather had deteriorated overnight and there were dark clouds coming up from the west. I debated sending a maid to my room for cloak and hat but decided against it, thinking I would be back before the rain arrived. Needless to say I got caught in a heavy shower and arrived back soaking wet. My less than cheerful mood wasn't improved when I learned Elizabeth still hadn't returned.

Fuming, I went up to my room to change, where I naturally took my temper out on the first innocent individual who crossed my path - the housemaid who came in to make up the bed. ‘What the devil's the matter with you, girl?' I snapped. ‘You know you're not supposed to enter while I'm here!'

‘I... I'm sorry, sir,' she stammered, backing away. ‘I was told the guests... had all gone out.'

‘Well you should have knocked, dammit! What's your name?'

‘Hil... Hilda, sir,' she replied, neck and face flushing red.

I'd seen this girl before: I remembered thrashing her once, some years ago, though I couldn't recollect the circumstances. Humphrey and I had a standing invitation from Nigel to spank the maids any time the fancy took us - and the fancy certainly took me at that moment, for someone had to pay for my recent run of bad luck.

I had been sitting on the bed in my damp underwear fuming silently when the girl came in. Now I patted my knee. ‘Come here, Hilda,' I said sternly.

She had suffered enough spankings in her time to recognise the tone and her face fell as she stepped forward. I drew her across my lap and lifted up her skirts. ‘I expect you'd like to keep your drawers on, would you?' I asked, fingering the item of clothing in question.

‘Oh yes, sir!' she gasped, in evident relief. ‘Thank you, sir!'

I nodded in approval. In these days of lax morals it was most refreshing to find a young woman who still exhibited such decent, old-fashioned values as purity and rectitude. ‘Very well,' I said, ‘wear them you shall - around your ankles.'

And with that I tugged them all the way down. Hilda moaned in shame and pressed her knees tightly together in an admirable display of modesty. She had a firm-looking, shapely bottom, white as milk and totally unmarked, which suggested Nigel had been slacking in his duties. My grandfather's maids rarely lacked ‘painted bums', as he called them - he would have been shocked indeed at the sight before me now.

I poked the twin mounds to verify their firmness, then proceeded to slap her vigorously, for this was not to be the playful spanking Belinda had endured. A man's hand - the simplest of all implements - should never be underestimated, for it is capable of inflicting a stinging blow, as Hilda's gasps and sobs soon testified. True, the punisher's palm can sting also, but this is a small price to pay. My own palm, toughened by years of use, suffers very little and I was able to sustain Hilda's correction for a good fifteen minutes. At the end of that time her eyes had been magically transformed from dry to wet and her bottom from white to vivid scarlet. My mood had undergone a transformation too, from sulky and dark to cheerfully optimistic. I pulled Hilda's drawers back up and her skirts down, then with a pat on her tender rump, sent her off about her duties.

Attired once more in dry clothes, I set out with happy heart to find my errant ward. As I descended the stair I was actually whistling - it is truly astonishing how a brisk over-the-knee spanking can raise one's spirits. If ever you are feeling out of sorts, I can thoroughly recommend it.

 

I never did get to spank Elizabeth and Belinda together. Humphrey and my ward returned just before noon - smiling and prattling away cheerfully, I couldn't help but notice - but now it was Belinda who had disappeared. I decided to make the best of a bad job and chastise Elizabeth alone. I promptly told her so, which soon wiped the smile off her face, and we went up to my room where I ordered her to undress. While she was so doing I selected the thinnest, most flexible cane in my case. I needed a whippy implement, for ‘stingers' were what I had in mind.

When Elizabeth was naked I ordered her to stand up straight with her hands clasped behind her head. I approached, swishing the cane through the air vigorously. It positively hummed, causing my ward to cast an anxious look over her shoulder at the ominous sound.

‘Humphrey is always pleasant company, isn't he?' I said. ‘A charming fellow, no doubt about it.'

Before she could answer I flicked my wrist and delivered a smarting stroke to the fullest part of her buttocks. She yelped and her hips shot forward. It was some seconds before she spoke. ‘Indeed, uncle. Most charming.'

I nodded. ‘I feared you would be caught in the rain, as I was, but your clothes are quite dry. Obviously you found somewhere to shelter.'

Once again I struck her before she could answer - an identical stroke, as close to the previous one as I could get it. She managed to bite back her cry this time, though she still jerked. I waited patiently for her reply.