Mastering Lady Lucinda Part 3

"Common sense should tell you that, sir," Lucinda answered. "For your own information, I shall tell you the gentlemen I have offended who I believe are responsible for my being here. The Duke of Rexford, the Marquess of Hargrave, and Lord Bertram. I suspect, too, that my brother is also involved in this. The others would not dare to have me kidnapped otherwise. Had I really been meant to go to my sister Julia's in Ireland, a hue and cry would be raised when I didn't arrive. Those villains know that. Therefore I must conclude that my brother stands with them. But then George is a fool, too, I fear."

The Master laughed aloud at her candid remark. Then he grew serious "You have not objected to your treatment at my hands, m'lady. I do not know what to think of it."

"Has it not occurred to you, sir, that I like carnal pursuits? I do not believe that I am a wanton, but I enjoyed my late hus-band's attentions. It has been several years since we cohabited, as his illness did not permit it in the last two years of his life."

"And now you have been widowed for another two," The Master said.

Lucinda nodded in the affirmative. "Our lovemaking had always, I believe, been most circ.u.mspect. Just before Robert grew ill we had spoken on more daring forms of pa.s.sion such as c.o.c.k sucking, and a.r.s.e f.u.c.king, but we had never had the time to explore such things."

"So you were not afraid this evening?" His green eyes searched her face for the absolute truth.

"No," Lucinda said. "I found it very exciting to have John atop me filling my c.u.n.t while you stuffed your c.o.c.k into my mouth to suck. At first I thought I would choke. You are not a small man. But then I discovered that by relaxing my throat I could more than contain you. I hope you are not shocked by my confession, sir."

"I am fascinated, madame," he admitted to her.

"You understand now that I cannot be forced into taking one of those three fools for a husband," Lucinda said.

"I am afraid I do, m'lady Lucinda, but the knowledge puts me in a bit of a quandary. The income I earn from the Devil's Disciples helps me to maintain my own small estate and my horses. If I admit to failure with you, I am ruined and could lose everything. What am I to do?"

"Let me see your face," she begged him. She touched the narrow band of black silk across his upper face.

"Nay, m'lady, that I cannot do for the reasons I have already explained," he told her, but his voice was now reluctant.

Lucinda smiled a wicked smile. "I can help you to maintain your reputation, and your income, if you will help me," she told him.

"How?" The question was sharp.

"I want revenge upon those three for their arrogance and their presumption that I could be forced to their will like some mindless idiot. Teach me all you can about the erotic arts and how I may please men. When September comes I shall perform before the Devil's Disciples as if I had been tamed, and cowed into genuine obedience. Then you will tell the a.s.sembled gentlemen that my dear brother, the Bishop of Wellington, will announce my betrothal at the first ball of the new season, which is being given by the Countess of Whitley." She chuckled mischievously. "It will add drama to the evening, and those three fools will spend the next few weeks wondering which of them I have picked. I shall be seen in public with all of them and encourage each against the other."

"And on the night of the Countess of Whitley's ball, m'lady?"

She shrugged. "My brother will announce my betrothal to the man I love, and no other, sir. If you will help me, Master, you will not lose your vaunted reputation, or your source of income." She paused, and then said, "Why do you do it, sir? You are obviously a gentleman, and yet you allow yourself to be used in this manner."

"We are not all, madame, the possessors of great fortunes," he said. "This estate has been in my family for centuries. I was born here. I grew up here, and I love it."

"Do you have a wife?"

"How could I?" he replied. "I have nothing to offer any woman, and so my line will die with me; but until that time I shall remain in the place I love best, m'lady Lucinda."

"Will you help me?" she asked him again.

He did not have to even think on it. "Yes," he said. "I will help you. I find your plan amusing, and besides, it means that for the next three months I will have you at my mercy, Lucinda. I find the thought a most exciting one. Now, my pet, you had best get some rest, for come the dawn I shall be ready to begin your tutelage." Setting his goblet on the bedside table, he arose. "Good night," he said, kissing the curls wrapped around his hand. Then releasing her hair he walked from the bedchamber.

Lucinda climbed from the bed and went to the now cold bath. Taking a washing cloth she cleaned herself free of the sweat and juices of her lover's exertions. Then getting back into bed she immediately fell asleep. It had been a most interesting day indeed, and tomorrow promised to be even more exhilarating.

Chapter Three.

"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 chastis.e.m.e.nt 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 c.o.c.k! 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 d.i.l.d.o, 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 bra.s.s 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 d.i.l.d.o?" 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 pa.s.sionate. 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 pa.s.sion. 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 d.i.l.d.o into it. "How do you feel?" he asked her.

"I want to be f.u.c.ked," she told him bluntly.

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

It felt... it felt very different from a man's c.o.c.k, she thought, and yet it was incredibly exciting. He began to frig her with the d.i.l.d.o, 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 d.i.l.d.o 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 d.i.l.d.o, "Oh G.o.d! Oh G.o.d!" 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 d.i.l.d.o 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 d.i.l.d.o 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 n.o.bility, 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 n.o.ble 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 wh.o.r.emaster to the n.o.bility. Only one man among the Devil's Disciples knew his ident.i.ty, 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 t.i.tties 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 la.s.ses 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 G.o.d 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 s.e.xual toys that might be used, he was a.s.sured by the oily shopkeepers, to convince the most reluctant la.s.s 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.

Then he had found his friend, Sir Derek Bowen, at White's Club, surprising him.

"I was not aware you were in London," Sir Derek said, calling for a drink for his old friend.

"I have been here for several days," The Master said. "I needed to do some research and, having done it, am amenable to your offer of employment, Derek. Come down on the weekend, and we will discuss the particulars. I have one stipulation, however. No one is to know who I am but you. You may tell your friends only that The Master is a gentleman of good breeding. That is all they need to know else they attempt to treat me as a servant. Do you understand, and are we agreed?"

"We are!" Sir Derek had said immediately. "I shall see you Friday night, my friend."

Sir Derek had traveled to Oxfordshire several days later, and together he and The Master had worked out the ground rules. The Master was to have full responsibility for the women brought to him. Virgins would not be raped. He would simply awaken them to their own sensuality before turning them over to their gentlemen. More experienced women would be treated differently, but with the same end results.

"Find me three footmen who can aid me in these lewd pursuits," he had requested of Sir Derek. "I suspect you know just the right men."

Sir Derek had smiled, and nodded.

"I have an ancient Roman arena on my property. It is quite small, and was probably used by the local patrician family that once inhabited the region. We will use it for our meetings in the summer. You will find us a secure spot for inclement weather nearby. As I will be training these girls in my house, I will want to bring them out to your meetings quickly so they cannot grow fearful."

"There is an old monastary quite near here," Sir Derek had said. "It has been deserted and ruined for several centuries, but the cellars beneath it are quite habitable and dry. We'll arrange to have it fixed up for our meetings." He had smiled.

"You have obviously been there recently," The Master had noted with a small smile himself.

"It is a very private place," Sir Derek had replied, "and a gentleman likes to have a private place to escape to now and again, eh?"

"Indeed," The Master had acknowledged.

They had then continued to work out a number of small, but important details of their enterprise, and on Sunday afternoon Sir Derek had begun his return journey to London to tell the Devil's Disciples of his progress. Several days afterward John, d.i.c.k and Martin, the footmen, had arrived, references in hand and a letter from Sir Derek to The Master. That had been three years ago.

The first girl brought to him had been a high-spirited farmer's daughter. It had taken only a week to master her. She had gone on to give her l.u.s.tful lordling hours of pleasure, and two b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, before she was retired to a cottage. There had followed more country girls, shop girls, and several months ago, Lord Meldrew's governess. She had been a most prim young lady who had foolishly resisted her employer's overtures. In The Master's charge, however, she had been developed into a shameless hussy who now ruled her employer by virtue of her big b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her nutcracker c.u.n.t. The Master had heard recently that Lord Meldrew was looking quite pale and weak as of late.

A rumble of thunder brought his thoughts to a halt. Looking about, he saw the rain coming, and turning his horse about, he cantered back to his stables, arriving barely before the storm. Hurrying across the stableyard and into the house, he met d.i.c.k and Martin. "How is her ladyship doing?" he asked them.

The footmen grinned, and then d.i.c.k said, "She's taking to the training nicely, m'lord. John is with her now."

The Master ran up the stairs and down the hall to the bedchamber where Lucinda was imprisoned. Entering the room, he saw John bending over her, his hand furiously working the d.i.l.d.o as Lucinda moaned her pleasure openly and encouraged him to continue. The footman turned his head at the sound of the door.

"She's a proper one for pa.s.sion, m'lord. Yer going to have no problems with this one. Look at this." John opened Lucinda's c.u.n.t lips with two fingers to reveal her c.l.i.t, swollen to twice its size. Taking his hand off the d.i.l.d.o, he flicked the sensitive little organ, and she shrieked, her juices flowing copiously.

"Very good, Lucinda," The Master approved. Then turning to the footman, he dismissed John. Sitting upon the edge of the bed after his companion had departed, he said quietly, "John is correct when he says you are a proper one for pa.s.sion, my pet. Are you enjoying it?"

"Y . .. yes, and no," Lucinda said. "I have never had such pleasure, even with my dearest Robert, but it is now, I think, too much. I cannot stop coming, sir. I lie perfectly still, but I cannot help squeezing it, and then . . . What is happening to me? I have never before been weak."

"You are not weak," he said. "You are pa.s.sionate, and it has been several years since you were allowed to indulge those delightful feelings of l.u.s.t." He worked the d.i.l.d.o gently, and she shuddered. "You are, my pet, a far better woman than any of your suitors deserves, I fear." Then he bent and brushed her lips lightly with his. "We have a great deal of work to do, Lucinda, if you are to have your revenge. When you give your body to each of those three in September, it must be the absolute best pa.s.sion any of them has ever experienced. It must be so good for each that the mere thought of you choosing one of the others for your husband will drive them to a frenzy. I do not believe that can happen unless I change my method of training. I think, perhaps, you will learn more quickly if we become lovers instead of master and pupil. Would you agree to such a thing?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said, "but only if you tell me your name. How can you be my lover when I do not know who you are."

"I will tell you my first name only," he said to her. "Will that suffice, Lucinda?"

"But you will not take off your mask, will you?" she replied.

"No, and you know that I am right in that. My name is Robert, as was your late husband's name."