At His Pleasure

After my father’s release from prison following the Monmouth Rebellion, we stayed at our country estate. My father did not wish to draw attention to himself in London at the Court of James II. As far as that monarch’s reign, all was not well. The King took mass publicly at the Royal Chapel. This made people uneasy, as they remembered the reign of the Catholic queen Bloody Mary before Queen Elizabeth’s rule.

I was uneasy as well, and it had nothing to do with James II. I could not forget my night with Jago Trevellyn when he had made me his slave in exchange for my father’s pardon for his part in the Monmouth Rebellion. I told myself over and over that I had felt degraded and violated, but I couldn’t expel the memory of the sensations I felt that night. Often times when I would lie in my bed at night, I would think of Jago and the way he had enflamed my passions. I would reach down between my legs and caress the folds of my lips; thinking of him and the things he made me do that night made me wet all over again. I would bring myself to climax as he had taught me and whisper his name as I did so.

Jeremy left the King’s army and returned home. I could barely meet his eyes when he came to my parents’ house, knowing what I had realized about my own desires. My mother invited his parents and him to dinner, and after the brandy I was allowed to walk Jeremy out to the veranda. My mother thought she would make it convenient for Jeremy to propose, and indeed he might have, if it were not for that night with Jago.

While we were out on the veranda, Jeremy turned to me and said, “I missed you so much, Clarissa. I thought of you often.”

“I missed you too Jeremy.” It had been true at one time. I had missed Jeremy…until I spent that night with Jago.

“You look so beautiful tonight.”

He then took my hand and leaned forward to kiss me chastely on the lips. I don’t know what came over me. I had been thinking so much of Jago and feeling a man close to me again, wanting me, was too much for my senses. When Jeremy kissed me, I entwined my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his. I opened my mouth against his own, sucking on his lower lip and drawing his tongue into my mouth. My hips gyrated against him, hoping to feel his hard manhood against me.

For a moment, Jeremy responded to me and then remembered who I was. He jumped back from me hastily and stared at me in amazement.

“Clarissa…”

I don’t know what he was going to say to me because his parents came through the door just then, but the look on his face told me that he was shocked at my behavior.

We didn’t see much of Jeremy at our house after that; when we did see each other, he would watch me as if I were a stranger to him. My mother was disappointed, for she felt sure that a marriage proposal was forthcoming. She came to my room one evening to talk to me.

“I’m surprised Jeremy hasn’t been a more constant visitor since he’s returned home. Did he say anything to you?”

“No, he said nothing to me.” Of course, I couldn’t confess my shameless behavior with Jeremy to my mother.

“Perhaps he just needs some time at home after his service in the army. You’ve changed since your father’s ordeal, Clarissa. I can’t tell you how much it means to both of us that you went to that town on your own to secure his release, but since that time you’ve been so quiet, so preoccupied. It’s not like you. The experience seems to have made you more mature; I’m sorry you had to go through that on your own. I still don’t quite understand why Lord Trevellyn did it.”

If only she understood all of what happened on that fateful trip. I couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell her I bartered my virtue for my father’s release, couldn’t tell her that I thought of nothing else these days, couldn’t tell her that I longed to be under Lord Trevellyn’s command again.

“I’ve been thinking of a plan. I believe we should go to London, just the two of us. Your father, of course, could not accompany us. We could stay with my sister and her husband; we could do some shopping, have some new dresses made, socialize a little. What do you think?”

I was filled with dread and excitement at the same time. I knew we were likely to encounter Jago Trevellyn in London, and the thought of it engendered mixed feelings. How would it feel to see him again? Would he acknowledge me or make reference to that night we shared together?

“I think it would be so good for you, Clarissa. Please say you’ll come.”

“I’d love to go to London with you, Mother.”

It wasn’t long before we were staying with my aunt and uncle in their London townhouse. We frequented the theatre and the opera, and always I looked for Jago Trevellyn but in vain.

We had been invited to a large ball where there was to be a treasure hunt to end the evening. I was wearing one of the new dresses I just had made for me in London. It was dark red with petticoats of a lighter shade showing at the low-cut bodice; the skirt fell away in a multitude of flounces so that it felt as if I were floating. My aunt’s maid piled my dark hair on top of my head leaving one long curl hanging over my shoulder.

I recognized many young men there from my London season and did not want for dance partners, and then a tall man swept into the room and people seemed to part for him and then close around him to gain his attention. It was hard to miss Lord Trevellyn’s entrance. I stood staring at him as if transfixed, and then hurried back to my mother before he noticed me.

I took furtive glances at him now and then while keeping well hidden behind my mother. There was a beautiful woman on his arm, and occasionally she turned to him to touch his arm or his face. When she did so, I felt hot waves of despair wash over me. I couldn’t understand myself. Why should I care if he was with another woman?

My mother noticed him as well.

“Oh look, there’s Lord Trevellyn. I must see him and thank him for what he did for your father. You must come with me; I’m sure you wish to thank him again.”

My mother took my arm as we approached him. I didn’t know where to look; I didn’t want to acknowledge what occurred between us. I didn’t want him to see that I was embarrassed or perturbed in any way by his presence here. I would just pretend it had never happened.

My mother went to him with her hands outstretched.

“Lord Trevellyn. We have been so remiss in not thanking you properly for your help with my husband. However, this is our first trip to London; my husband has been keeping to our country estate, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“My dear Lady Campion, Miss Campion. No gratitude is necessary. I assure you, your lovely daughter thanked me more than any man could possibly deserve.” He turned to me and looked me directly in the eyes. “I hope you have been well, Miss Campion. Quite recovered from your ordeal?”

I murmured, “Yes, thank you.”

“I had no idea you knew my daughter well enough to step in and help her like that, Lord Trevellyn, but Sir James and I will be forever grateful.”

“It was nothing; I was happy to accommodate.”

He then introduced us to the woman who was accompanying him, a Mrs. Bishop. I saw with some satisfaction that she was not particularly young; he mentioned that she was a widow. He then suggested that she take my mother to find our hostess, as my mother wanted to ask her about the treasure hunt and Mrs. Bishop knew where she was. His aim, of course, was to get me alone, or as alone as we could be in a crowded ballroom.

He drew close to me. “Clarissa… I’ve thought about you often.”

“And I have thought about you…with disgust.”

He laughed. “Oh, you lie. You know you do. Did I not tell you I would give you a night you’d never forget, and you haven’t, have you?”

“How can I ever forget the night I was raped?”

“My dear, you were more willing than you’ll ever admit to yourself.”

“Well, now I see you have some other woman to submit to your degradations.”

“Mrs. Bishop? Alicia? Oh no, you’re quite wrong. She would never submit to the delights that you enjoy so much. I’m happy to see you’re so concerned though.”

“I-I don’t understand. You don’t make love to that woman?”

“I never said that. I just don’t make love to her in the same way as I did you. I save those special pleasures for women like you, women who crave that special brand of love.”

“You’re despicable.”

“For recognizing your true nature?”

“Believe what you will.”

“Why aren’t you married yet to the estimable Jeremy Lloyd?”

I said sharply, “What do you know about that?”

“I had heard the two of you had an understanding. Now here he is returned from the King’s service and no betrothal announcement. What happened, Clarissa? Did I ruin you for any other man? Now that you know what your body desires, you could never be happy with a man that didn’t understand that about you.”

“It’s nothing of the sort.”

How did he know me so well? It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Jeremy had clearly shown that he didn’t know my nature at all. Our hostess rang a small bell to get our attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen it is time to begin the treasure hunt. Gentlemen, please choose your partners.”

Lord Trevellyn turned to me and took my hand.

“You must be my partner.”

I began to protest. “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

Just then my mother walked back to us with Mrs. Bishop.

“Alicia won’t mind at all, will you?”

Mrs. Bishop smiled slyly. “Not at all; please renew your acquaintance with Miss Campion. I see a friend of ours across the room, Sir Penrith. I’m sure we can be partners.”

My mother chose not to join the treasure hunt, but she clearly felt at ease leaving me in Lord Trevellyn’s care. If she only knew…

The object of the game was to read five clues in order; each clue would take us to the next place in the house where the next clue would be waiting, until the fifth clue, which would reveal the “treasure.” Everyone’s clues were to be a little different, so all of the couples would be in different areas of the large house. Lord Trevellyn stepped forward to receive our five clues.

The clue read, “Your first clue waits under winged feet.”

He said, “Hmm, winged feet…perhaps underneath a carved chair or table leg?”

“No, there is a statue of Hermes at the fountain in the back garden; Hermes is always portrayed with winged feet.”

He looked at me with something like admiration. “You see, I’m so fortunate to have such a learned young lady as my partner. I chose well.”

We went to the back garden and walked to the fountain. There indeed was a slip of paper with our next clue. It read, “Your next clue keeps company amidst the smiles and frowns and sits with the Lely.”

I said excitedly, “They must have a portrait gallery with a painting by the portraitist Sir Peter Lely.”

Lord Trevellyn smiled at me benignly and said, “You lead and I shall follow.” His smooth compliance should have been a warning to me.

We returned to the house and went upstairs, looking into a vast array of rooms. We finally came to a long room, the portrait gallery. It was dark save for a few candles in the wall sconces. We looked at all the portraits until we came to one painted by Lely; there was a slip of paper tucked behind the frame. I pulled it out but Jago snatched it from my hands.

“That’s enough of this silly treasure hunt. Let’s find our own treasure this night.”

He roughly pushed me against the wall and told me to reach under his coat and grab his manhood through his breeches. I felt as if I should object; if I were to cry out, surely someone would hear me. Instead I did as he told me, and felt the now familiar shape growing hard beneath the fine cloth of his breeches.

“Now get down on your knees, pull my breeches down, and take me in your mouth.”

Again, some force was propelling me as I did as he commanded. I guided his manhood into my mouth with my hand, running my tongue around the tip. I sucked on him, and he began moving slowly in and out of my mouth. Suddenly, I heard the door to the gallery open and soft voices. I made a move to pull away from Jago, but he stopped me putting his hand against the back of my head and shoving it forward so that his manhood was almost down my throat.

I gagged and he said, “Keep it deep in your mouth but stop sucking on it and stop moving.”

So I sat there on my knees with his still hard member stuffed into my mouth. The people who entered the room approached us and my heart beat in nervous anticipation. Who could it be? Why would he allow someone to see us like this?

It was a woman’s voice first and I recognized it as Alicia Bishop’s.

“My dear, Jago, it looks as if your little friend has found her treasure.” She gave a low throaty laugh, and I was embarrassed that she knew exactly what I was doing to him.

Then there was an unfamiliar man’s voice. “Jago, it’s just like you to keep this all to yourself. You’re a very selfish man.”

Jago laughed too, and I closed my eyes to ward off my humiliation. I couldn’t understand why I just didn’t rise and run out of the room. As they discussed my predicament, I felt a tingling between my legs and knew I was growing wet.

Mrs. Bishop continued. “I could tell immediately you had a rather special feeling for her. She’s such a little beauty, but her charms are all covered up. May I?”

Jago must have nodded his assent, for she addressed me next. “Reach into your bodice, whore, and pull out your breasts.”

I opened my eyes then and raised them to Jago’s face; he smiled at me and said, “Do as she tells you, but do not release my prick from your mouth.”

My lips still firmly encircling Jago’s member, I reached up and loosened the stays on my corset a little, and then pulled my breasts from the bodice of my dress. They fell forward heavily, pushed out even further by the tight bodice that was now underneath them.

Mrs. Bishop moved behind me, reached over my shoulders and began squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples hard. An involuntary moan escaped my lips, and she laughed at me again. “Now continue sucking your master.” I began moving my mouth once again on Jago’s member and Mrs. Bishop was pushing on me from behind so that when it went into my mouth it went deep down my throat. I almost choked with each thrust. I could sense that Jago was close to his climax, and then Mrs. Bishop pulled me back from him and his warm gush sprayed onto my exposed breasts. Mrs. Bishop kept her hold on my breasts and spread Jago’s effusion into them while she pinched and twisted my nipples. She then pushed me to the floor so that I was on my hand and knees, my breasts still exposed, Jago’s gush drying on them.

The strange man walked in front of me but because my eyes were lowered, all I could see were his shoes with their fancy buckles and heels. He tapped a walking stick or cane on the floor in front of me. He brought the cane underneath my chin and raised it, so that I was looking into his face. I recognized him as the man Mrs. Bishop had called Sir Penrith, and then I remembered the name from the night that Jago first made me his slave.

“Sit back on your heels, whore.”

Again I looked at Jago and he nodded to me, so I obeyed Sir Penrith.

“Now put your hands beneath your breasts and hold them forward.”

He took the cane and traced it along the outlines of my breasts. Jago and Mrs. Bishop stood to the side and watched in amused silence. Then he smacked the cane down across the tops of my breasts. I gasped in pain and dropped them, the weight of them causing them to bounce. He moved the cane beneath them and lifting them, he said, “Hold them in your hands again.” Once again I did as he told me, although now they were throbbing with pain. He hit them again, but this time I did not drop them. I could feel two bright red stripes glowing across my breasts.

He raised his cane again, but Jago stopped him this time. “I think that’s enough Penrith.”

“Oh, I see you have a soft spot for this slave. Very well. Now lower your head and push your breasts up so that you can lick your nipples. I know that they’re big enough for you to do that.”

They were, indeed, big enough for me to reach them with my tongue. As I swirled my tongue around first my right and then my left nipple, they grew hard and distended.

Mrs. Bishop commented, “My God, she’s rather enjoying that, isn’t she? She’s getting herself excited.”

Sir Penrith laughed. “When I gave her that command, I had no idea that she would take such pleasure in it. Back on your hands and knees and spread your legs.”

I complied the best I could in my voluminous skirts. He asked Mrs. Bishop to lift my skirts in the back. She did so, and Sir Penrith came up behind me and ripped away all my undergarments. My bare bottom was exposed for all of them to see, and I was hoping now my Master would give me some relief. Instead Sir Penrith whacked my bottom with his cane. I cried out, and he struck me again. He shoved the cane between my legs and told me to spread them apart farther. I spread them as far as I could, and I knew that my wet cunny was now exposed as well.

He took the tip of his cane and began running it the length of my crack and my slit, dipping it into my juices whenever he reached my love hole. When it came up to my little bud, I tried to push against it furiously. It became a game for him. He lingered longer and longer at my bud, gently probing and lightly flicking the tip of his cane against it. My hips would rock, thrusting my bottom out, as I would come close to my climax, and then he would slide the cane back toward my bottom hole leaving me crying out in frustration.

Mrs. Bishop took great pleasure in this game. She would egg him on and urge him to pull the tip of the cane away from me before I could release my passion. Master stood to the side and watched my humiliation at their hands.

Finally Sir Penrith withdrew his cane and asked Mrs. Bishop if she’d like to see what an aroused slut looked and felt like. She got down behind me and brought her face close to my cunny to inspect me. To my enduring shame, I thrust myself against her face. She drew back abruptly and spanked my bottom with her bare hand. The smack resounded in the room, so that the two men knew I had done something wrong.

“Oh no you don’t, girl, I’m not doing that to you. I’ll leave that to your masters. And unlike you, I wouldn’t do it even it they ordered me to; I’d just walk out of the room. You can’t do that, can you? You need this too badly. Answer me.”

I heard Master’s voice behind me. “Answer her, little slave, and address her properly.”

I said softly, “Yes, Mistress.”

“That’s better. You’d be wise to remember that you not only have two masters here, you have a mistress as well. And if I choose to lead you around by a collar and leash like a little pet and have you curl up naked at my feet and expose you to my friends, you’d do so, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She spanked me several more times before getting close to me again. She then stuck two fingers inside my vagina; withdrawing them she smeared my juices along my inner lips and took my bud between her two fingers. I gratefully squirmed against her, hoping she’d bring me to my longed for climax.

“My God, she’s so wet and her lips are swollen. I never knew a woman’s bud could get so big and hard; it’s sticking straight out. You should have it pierced, Jago. Then you could put a ring in it and attach a small chain to it. You could lead her around by her cunny; I would love to see that. I’d wager she’d love it too.”

My bud was throbbing under her touch now, and I felt at any moment I would explode for them all to see, but it was not to be. She suddenly took her fingers away and gave me another sharp spank on my bottom.

“No, not yet, whore, your master hasn’t given his permission.”