Here is the second chapter of the tale. Thank you for your encouragement and input on the story. I take the good with the bad so please don't be shy and keep them coming.
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Her nails dug into the tender flesh of her wrists just before the next blow struck, drawing another painful moan from Emmeline. In a twisted way the pain felt good, a welcome distraction from the embarrassment that had become her steady companion since entering Mr. Tucker's office. Her backside felt feverishly hot, yet the pain seemed to numb her mind, narrow her world down to the sound of the cane cutting through the air, making her forget about her miserable future for a while.
A whore. That was what she had become, or would be once the seed of rebellion was be beaten out of her body and mind. At least that was what Mr. Tucker had promised, his disbelieving eyes still returning to the bite mark upon his thigh.
It had been a visceral reaction, a moment of panic when he tried to push his crotch into her frightened face. For a moment the inexperienced girl kneeling at his feet, stripped of her clothes but for the scarf on her head, had forgotten her place and started to fight back. Her teeth had done little damage to the skin, the rough material of his trousers had taken most of her fierce response, yet the owner's pride had been damaged beyond what he saw a mere servant capable of.
He had pushed her face down onto the table, clearing the papers aside with a rough swipe of his arm, his weight crashing down upon her and knocking the air out of Emmeline's lungs. His meaty paw grabbed the flesh of her hips angrily as he kicked the frightened girl's legs apart. Tucker meant business. It was part of his business politics to set the boundaries right from the start. Less complications, better compliance and subsequently more profit. He was determined to teach Emmeline a lesson she would never forget.
She was no novice to discipline of course, the window Carmichael had made sure of that, yet the very thought of the obscene picture she must have presented, her naked body bent over the heavy desk, her womanhood exposed to the lascivious man's gaze, made Emmeline's insides shake with shame. She bit into her shoulder to keep from crying out, a satisfaction the last it of her dignity demanded she didn't give to the man so obviously delighting in hurting her.
"That will teach you! To refuse me? I ... who have been so good to you. Have taken care of you, ungrateful ... bastard, I ... will ... teach ... you", each of his words emphasized by another blow.
She started to feel dizzy slowly, the surface of the desk no loner scrubbing the tender skin of her belly and the gentle swell of her exposed breast with its rough touch. Even Mr. Tucker's excited, breathy voice seemed to fade into the distance as Emmeline closed her eyes. The world had gone black. The darkness surrounded her like a warm, surreal cocoon, alleviating the pain, the shame.
She came to her senses slowly, candle light making her eyes squint. Her backside felt aflame, tender beyond any pain the widow Carmichael had tried to save the devil's child eternal soul with. The voices around her drifted to her ears from afar, growing louder and louder until the words finally started to make sense.
"A filthy little whore she is, but a fine one. Young and virile." Mr Tucker had said proudly.
"Beaten unconscious," another man pointed out calmly.
"Oh that little canning? That was nothing, just a little discipline. Emmeline here knows how to appreciate discipline."
"That is still a ridiculous amount of money for damaged goods."
Her face still resting against the desk, she never saw the greedy spark lighting up Mr. Tucker's eyes.
"Indeed, My Lord, indeed. Damaged? Perhaps a little shaken up. But still unused," he added with a knowing grin.
The man remained silent for what felt like a long time. She became vaguely aware of a hand's touch, firm yet gentle enough to avoid the most sore areas of shame gracing her backside as it moved upwards from the valley at the small of her back, along her spine. A finger twirled a strand of long, ebony hair that had escaped her scarf. Slowly, deliberately.
"I'll take her. Have a room readied for the night." the man finally declared. Coins fell atop of the desk with a loud ring, right next to Emmeline's ear.
"My Lord is too gracious!" Mr. Tucker bowed with a satisfied smile. "Emmeline, get up girl and lead his Lordship up to Mary's old room."
Maybe, just maybe if she closed her eyes again and didn't move ... but alas, Mr. Tucker was already grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet impatiently.
"Get moving girl!" he snarled at the disoriented young woman, then smiled apologetically at his guest, "The young things these days, so little manners left ... you must forgive her Sir, what she is lacking in upbringing she will make up for with enthusiasm. Isn't that right Emmeline?"
Tucker's fool breath upon her cheek made her wince and wrinkle her nose in disgust. Painfully aware of the consequences of disobedience, she bowed her head, wary eyes fixed upon the boots of the stranger who would become her first patron. The small nod of her head the owner's tightening grip on her bruised arm triggered seemed to satisfy the greedy businessman.
"Lead the way Emmeline and don't forget who is your Lord and master for the night!"
Tucker's voice still echoed in her ears as she walked up the wooden staircase naked as the day she was born with a stranger in tow. Two girls came rushing buy, giggling and whispering as they passed the silent couple at the top of the stairs.
The door to Mary's room was at the far end of the floor. Emmeline pushed it open with a heavy heart, her mind a whirl of anger and guilt, her body shaking with humiliation and pain. She walked over to the bed, lighting a small candle on the nightstand, still reluctant to look at the man who would break her, take away what little purity her mother tried so desperately to preserve between the walls of the brothel for her.
Thinking of her mother made Emmeline's eyes well up with tears, guilt gnawing at her heart and eating away her will to fight, leaving her numb and helpless against her fate.
Her trance was broken by the soft feel of warmth settling around her body and she looked up in surprise as the stranger wrapped his dark coat around her naked flesh.
"You are shivering," he stated, his voice calm and reserved.
Somewhere in the back of Emmeline's mind her mother spoke softly, telling her how rude it was to stare, but she still couldn't help it as her eyes seemed transfixed looking at the man.
For Emmeline, he was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Golden hair fell about his shoulder, caressing a strong neck and the side of his aristocratic face. High cheekbones emphasized his heritage, counterbalancing his angular jaw and the sensual line of his lips. The most striking features were probably still his eyes, endlessly blue like the river behind the village on summer mornings. She also noticed the slight laugh lines forming at the corners of his eyes, adding more character to his face.
The eyes of a kind man, Emmeline had thought absentmindedly, forgetting about her nakedness and shame for a moment.
His smile spread slowly, blue eyes twinkling with amusement by the time she finally realized that he had been speaking to her.
