Bound to Please

Chapter 2: Bound to be seduced.

I lay in the darkness on the hard bed and remembered my loss of innocence. I was just turned eighteen when I got my position in the Chandler's house and I was pleased to get it for my father had recently died and I was left an orphan. Mrs Jenkins taught me my duties and Mr Watkins was kind to me. He told me I could do well for myself in the house with my willing manner and pretty smile. The first time Mr Chandler put his hand on my bottom and gave it a squeeze I was shocked and ran off. Mr Watkins found me and told me I was silly to be afeared.

"The master is only having a bit of fun, Mary," he told me. "I've seen him squeeze Mrs Jenkins bum and she just smiled at him and tutted. Next time just smile and say oh sir, you shouldn't, and I'll warrant he'll give you a sixpence."

I laughed at that. I'd never had a sixpence of my own and the boys where I grew up never gave me nothing when they squeezed my bum.

It happened again. I was carrying a tray to the mistress and Mr Chandler came up behind me and squeezed my bum. "Oh sir, you shouldn't," I said. I meant it, but Mr Chandler laughed.

"You are a delight, Mary," he said. "Here, buy yourself something pretty, maybe a ribbon for that golden hair of yours. Tis a fine head of hair, very becoming," and he dropped a sixpence on the tray and walked away.

When I told Mr Watkins about it later he patted my hand and told me I was a sweet girl and there would be more sixpences if I knew my place and tried to please the master. "He's always funning," he said. "He has an eye for a well turned ankle and a pretty smile, but he would never do you harm. He's a kind man." His words reassured me, and the thought of getting a sixpence for having me bum squeezed made me smile. Mr Chandler was a good-looking man.

Next day Watkins told me to fetch a tea tray to the master's study. When I got there Mr Chandler said to Watkins, "What do you think of our Mary then?"

"She is a good girl, sir."

"And do you think her ankles are as pretty as her smile?"

Watkins laughed. "I'd wager they are, sir."

"A wager? Well then Watkins I'll wager a sixpence you are right. If you are wrong I shall have your sixpence. If you are right Mary gets my sixpence."

I had put down the tray and was standing there blushing at them talking about me. Mr Watkins smiled at me. "Save my sixpence, Mary. Show the master your ankles."

I didn't know what to do. Mr Chandler held up a sixpence. "You have to satisfy the wager, Mary." I felt a bit naughty doing it, but I pulled up my skirts to show my ankles. "You win," says Mr Chandler and he gives me the sixpence. "You saved Watkins some money and brightened my day, so we are both grateful to you."

"You are a good sport, Mary," Mr Watkins said to me later. "The master was pleased with you." He saw the confusion on my face. "You're not worried about the master seeing your ankles are you Mary? Don't be a silly goose. It did you no harm and got you a sixpence. You pleased the master and made the world a happier place."

"I'm a good girl, Mr Watkins," I said. I didn't want him or Mr Chandler thinking otherwise.

"Indeed you are, Mary." He put his arm round my shoulder. "The master wouldn't want you in the house if you wasn't a good girl. There's no harm in a little pat on the behind or in him admiring your ankles is there? Why I have seen paintings of ladies in their all together and I mean proper ladies. Just because a gentleman likes to admire a pretty girl doesn't mean there's any harm or that she ain't a good girl. Girls like to be admired and gentlemen like admiring them, that's the way people are made. You don't begrudge giving the master a bit of pleasure when there's no harm in it to you do you? He's a good man. Why he's given you a shilling already for doing nothing more than being a good girl. You don't object to pleasing him do you?"

"Of course I don't, but ..."

"But nothing, Mary. Where is the harm in the master admiring the beauty God gave you? Do you want me to tell Mr Chandler you were upset by him seeing your ankles? I shall tell him so if you want me to and I am sure he will not ask you again. He'd be hurt if he thought he had upset you, Mary. I don't understand why you want to be cruel to him, but I shall tell him if you want me to."

"I don't want to be cruel to him," I whispered. I didn't add that I wanted more sixpences but that was what I was thinking.

"I knew you didn't. You are a kind girl and a good sport too. Now you put your money somewhere safe. Keeping the master happy can build up a nice little nest egg. Mr Chandler is a good man and he deserves the care and kindness of those that depend on him."

"You don't think it's wrong of me to take money for doing the things he wants?" I looked at Mr Watkins. He gave me a smile.

"Listen to yourself, Mary. How can it be wrong? You are a servant; it is your duty to look after your master. If he is pleased with you and gives you presents how can it be wrong?"

I was still uneasy in my mind about where this could lead, but I put away my doubts.

Next day Mr Chandler had a visitor and I was called to take in a tea tray.

"George," said Mr Chandler, "we are now being served by one of the sweetest girls in the county and, what is more, she has the prettiest ankles you will ever see." I felt my face glowing red. "Oh, I have embarrassed her, she is a modest girl. I am sorry, Mary, I should not have spoken."

"What is embarrassing about complimenting a girl on her ankles? Anyway, I don't believe you are right, my wife has the prettiest ankles in the county."

"I have seen your wife's ankles George and they are pretty, but Mary's are prettier." He grinned at me, the cheeky grin of a naughty schoolboy. It made me smile and without further thought I lifted my skirts to near my knees, curtsied and left the room. The master laughed such a merry laugh that I was really pleased with myself.

When I returned later to fetch the tray he grinned at me again. "You have such a wonderful smile, Mary, that just seeing it makes me happy." He came close to me, raised my chin with a finger, lent in and kissed me. "And such luscious lips." I was too surprised to move. He grinned again, and then moved away from me. "You may take the tray, Mary. Thank you."

There were butterflies in my belly when I lifted the tray. The kiss warmed me through and through. Mr Chandler held the door open for me and patted my bottom as I left.

A few days later I had just finished cleaning the fire grate when Mr Chandler came into the dining room. He sat on chair by the table and sighed, his hands rubbing at his neck.

"Mary," he said, "sometimes I feel so unhappy. Your mistress is a good woman, but her tongue can be sharp and her words barbed." I knew the truth of that; I was still upset by what she said about my folding of the linen the night before. "Come over here, Mary and rub the knots out of the muscles on my neck. I am so tensed up that I can barely move my head." I went behind him and squeezed at his neck. I could feel the tightness of his muscles. He seemed to relax a little. "Rub the shoulders too Mary. That feels good. You have strong hands, but so sensitive." He breathed more easily. "You are working magic with your fingers. I feared my tension would bring on a migraine I was so vexed." I rubbed the muscles some more till he sighed, sat up straight and twisted in his seat. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me onto his lap.

"Oh Mr Chandler," I said.

"Never mind the oh Mr Chandler, Mary, we are alone and I need cheering up. You have already done me a great kindness and now," he put his finger under my chin, "Let me see your smile and if you won't smile then I must kiss you." He pulled me to him and pressed his lips on mine. "Ah, you are a ministering angel. You have lifted my spirits." He grinned his schoolboy grin at me. "Why can life not be simple? I feel happier when you are near me." He put a hand on my breast. "You give me such comfort, Mary." And he kissed me again. My whole body seemed to have locked up. I could not move. I could not speak. I sat rigidly on his knee while he kissed me and fondled my breast.

"You are a good girl, Mary, thank you for your kindness," he said at last. He helped me to my feet and then stood himself. "If I had called the doctor he could not have cured me so speedily and he would have charged me a guinea." He smiled, then took a coin from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. "You deserve the fee," he said. "I am ready to face the trials of life once more."

He walked out of the room leaving me alone with the warmth of his hand still on my breast, my heart beating hard inside me and the heat of his lips still burning mine. When I looked in my hand I found a golden guinea. My heart beat even faster when I saw what it was.

From that time on Mr Chandler would call me from time to time to rub his neck or his shoulders and sometimes after he had been riding, his thighs. Often he would finish by fondling and kissing me. When he did not call upon me to loosen his tight muscles but came on me by accident and found me alone he would squeeze me and kiss me and I made no complaint for I enjoyed all he did. His kissing changed from lips on lips to his tongue pushing into my mouth. The way he squeezed my breasts and toyed with my nipples left me breathless and with such a heat in my belly.

The mistress was a horsewoman. She kept three hunters and was famous in the county for the fearless way she rode. One Saturday morning she went off to the hunt but the master remained at home. I was changing the bed linen in his room when he walked in on me.

"Mary," he said, "you are in the right place at the right time." He put his arm round me and put one hand on my breast. "Your titties feel so good, Mary. I think it is time I had a look to see if they are as beautiful as they feel." When he began undoing my buttons I moved my hands to stop him. He laughed. "I know how to let you keep your modesty and still see what I want." He pulled off his cravat, took one of my wrists and tied it round it, then stepped behind me, pulled both my arms behind my back and tied the other wrist.

I was frightened near out of my wits, "Please let me free, sir," I said.

"It's all right Mary, you are still a good girl. I have tied your hands to let you free." He laughed and his fingers swiftly undid my buttons and pulled open the dress. "You are as lovely as I thought, Mary." His hands explored my naked breasts, and then he was kissing me, and then sucking on my nipples. I felt my belly melting. He moved me back and laid me on the bed.

"Please don't sir," I gasped as his hand pulled up my skirts, then his knee pushed between mine and his fingers were between my legs stroking and probing.

"So wet and silky my little love. You were born to be mine."

And indeed it was as though my body believed it. I was open for him. I did not want him to stop. Then his britches were down and I felt his stiff flesh push hard into my softness. It hurt and I cried out, but he just rammed harder into me. I was crying from the pain but he paid my tears and pleas no mind but pounded at me till he groaned, pulled out and spilt his seed on my belly.

Afterwards he wiped away my blood with his own face cloth, untied my hands and took me on his knee. "Mary," he said, "I am sorry that I hurt you, but you were too much of a temptation to resist. Now dry your tears, all will soon be mended and you will never feel that pain again, from this day there will be nothing but pleasure for you." He put a golden guinea in my hand. "That is to recompense you for the hurt, my own little Mary, for that is what you are now, mine own. I have claimed you as men have claimed their women since the beginnings of time." He stood me on my feet. "I shall leave you now to finish your work here and compose yourself."

He left me there, tears streaking my face, breasts uncovered and feeling as though my life had come to an end. I was a fallen woman, but not by my choice. I had been pushed. But a fallen woman is a fallen woman no matter whose fault it is that she fell.

I was cleaning the dining room when Mr Watkins found me. He noticed my red eyes and asked if I was well. He saw misery on my face and wrapped his arms round me. "Tell me what is wrong, child."

"I am ruined," I said, sobbing. "The master, in his bed. I am ruined."

He sighed and patted my back like a father would an upset child. "Hush now, it is all right, though I am not surprised it happened, the maser is so taken with you Mary and I can see you admire him too. You are not ruined; the master will look after you. He likes you so much."

"Oh Mr Watkins, it hurt so bad."

"It will be fine from now on Mary, don't be concerned. You will enjoy being with him next time."

"Oh no, it cannot happen again," I cried, and I meant it too.

"Don't be silly, Mary, the master likes you too much for it not to happen again and if you reject him now you will be ruined. You are a good girl; let the master take care of you. Now wipe your eyes and stop worrying. This could be the making of you. You are a lucky girl to have a man like Mr Chandler so fond of you. You do as he says and see how well everything goes along. You are a woman now, it is time to put away childish thoughts."

That night I had just gone to bed in my little room in the attic when I heard the soft pad of bare feet on the stairs. There was a quiet knock on the door and it opened to show Mr Chandler, candle in hand, wearing only britches and shirt. "I had to come and see you, Mary, to see if you are recovered." He sat on the edge of my bed and placed the candle on the little table that only held my bible. "I am sorry for what I did today, but I truly could not help myself for you inflamed me so. My desire for you overcame my senses." He took one of my hands in his.

"You should not be here, sir," I whispered.

He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I should be here, Mary. Today I made you mine. I shall not shun you Mary. I shall take responsibility for my actions and take proper care of you." And he kissed my hand again. My heart was in a flutter. He stroked my hair. "Tell me I may take care of you, Mary." He began to pull the bedcovers down.

"What are you doing, sir?"

"I must check that I have done you no lasting harm. Do not be coy, Mary, after what we did today there is no need for that." He was pushing up my nightdress.

"Please sir."

"I shall, Mary." He smiled. "There is no need to worry, I won't hurt you, but I must check that all is well. You are mine now and must not oppose me. Raise your arms." He had worked my nightdress to above my waist and when I obeyed his instruction he took it over my head so I was naked before him. "You are my own good girl, Mary." His hand moved to my breasts, squeezing them gently and toying my nipples. "I was not too rough with you, there are no bruises. Oh Mary, your titties love the touch of my hands, your nipples are standing so proud." My nipples were aching from his touch and a blush spread from my breasts to my cheeks. "Your body is an instrument designed for my fingers, I will play such music on you. You were made for me, Mary."

He pushed me flat on the bed and lent over me, kissing my lips, his tongue pushing into my mouth, his fingers teasing and pinching at my nipples. One of his hands slid down my belly to the junction of my thighs and my legs parted of their own accord giving access to that part of me he had pounded so hard that I had bled and cried. He stroked and pressed till my cunnie opened and his finger slipped into me. There was no pain, only desire for more.

"Oh, Mary," he whispered, "I have done you no harm. Can you feel how well your body responds to my touch? You are my own girl now. Your body is mine. Tell me you are mine, Mary."

An ache of longing was in my belly and my hips were moving in time to his pressing fingers. "Tell me you belong to me, Mary." His fingers stopped moving and I tried to push against them in my need of release. "Tell me."

My body knew I wanted him and my mind accepted. "Yes sir," I gasped. "I am yours, sir."

His fingers pressed, twisted and rubbed making my whole body shake and I wrapped my arms tight around him and gasped out my satisfaction.

When I released my hold on him he kissed me again. "You have made me very happy, Mary. We shall have such fun together. Now sleep, I shall see you tomorrow."

When he was gone I thought that sleep would not come to me, but I was wrong. I curled up in my bed, naked as the day I was born, and fell into a dreamless sleep.