Clarissa's New Station

Sir Warren of Bainsbridge dismounted his horse and rapped on the door of the tiny house. Gareth opened the door and, seeing his feudal landlord, bowed his head and took a step back.

"Milord," he said as he pulled his tunic back on. "Forgive me. I was not expecting you."

"Relax, Gareth," said Sir Warren. "This is your home. May I come in?"

"Of course, Milord."

Stepping aside, Gareth ushered in the man to whom he was a serf.

"Gareth," Sir Warren began. "I need to speak with you on a delicate matter."

"Milord..."

Raising his hand, Sir Warren stopped him before he could continue.

"Please Gareth, let me finish. Before he died, my father told me of your bravery and loyalty. It was because you saved his life that he bequeathed to you a parcel of land double the size of any other serf.

"As you know, however, I am still lord of the manor. As such, I collect a portion of what the land yields or equivalent money. It has been four months since I received a tribute from you. I understand that the land has been less productive of late. You are not alone in that circumstance. Most everyone is telling me the same thing. Everyone is struggling, but we must press on. We must maintain our position amongst the other lords or they will surely take us over – and they will not be as patient and understanding as I.

"We need to find a way to maintain our relative places. I come with a proposition for you to consider. I have had freemen working for me – both in the manor and on the grounds. Because I've been unable to pay them, I've been obliged to allow them to go elsewhere if that is their wish. I've been fortunate. About half of them have decided to stay a while longer. Even so, there are quite a few jobs not getting done.

"In short, Gareth, I need labor. The land is not producing, so there's not much for you to do here. Come work for me."

"Milord, that still leaves the problem of feeding the people who work at the manor. If there is no produce, how long can we survive? People must eat."

"There are ways, Gareth. Some parcels are producing. Also, other land under other lords is producing greatly. They will need labor. We can provide that labor in exchange for a portion of the yield. The important thing is that we need to be unified and deal from a position of strength. Our strength now is in our labor force."

Just then, Clarissa, Gareth's daughter, entered the room.

"Father, there is tea and soup ready."

"Sir warren, will you join us?" Asked Gareth. "Milord..."

"Hmm. I'm sorry. Did you say something, Gareth?"

"I asked if you'd be joining us for supper."

"I wouldn't want to burden you."

"It's no burden, Milord. Besides, your idea merits discussion."

"Then, yes. I will join you. Thank you. Gareth, is that your daughter?"

"Yes. That's Clarissa."

"She's quite lovely. Quite lovely, indeed."

____________________

Supper was quietly eaten, and then the two men discussed Sir Warren's idea. After reaching agreement, Sir Warren broached the subject of Clarissa.

"Gareth," he began tentatively. "I would very much enjoy having Clarissa serve at the manor, also."

"Of course," replied Gareth. "That is your prerogative."

"I think you misunderstand. I will not indulge that prerogative with you. You were my father's friend. I am asking."

"Thank you, Milord. If that is your intention, perhaps you should ask Clarissa."

Clarissa nearly jumped at the opportunity. After all, she would get to see and, in fact, live in, the big manor. She would be working for a man to whom she'd immediately been attracted. He was strong looking but soft spoken. When he talked to her, his eyes burned into hers and her heart skipped a beat. She wondered how closely she'd be working with him.

"Don't get the wrong idea, girl." Her father warned. "This is no holiday. You'll be working. You will do whatever Sir Warren tells you to do."

"Yes, anything." She thought to herself.

____________________

She'd been at the manor for more than two weeks without anything happening that even remotely resembled her hopeful expectations. Mostly she'd been helping in the kitchen and serving meals. Sometimes she'd be sent to tidy Sir Warren's bedchambers. This was the most torturous of all, for as soon as she entered the bedchambers, and for the whole time she was within, his scent enveloped her like a fog.

She was at an age where she was constantly aware of her physical desires. She would occasionally give in to those desires, but not very often. There really wasn't much opportunity, with the constant presence of her parents and with so much work always needing to be done. But now, in completely different surroundings and so close to a man unlike any she'd ever known, she was overwhelmed by a stronger awareness of her body's needs.

That night, with eyes downcast, she approached Sir Warren.

"Milord," she said meekly.

"Yes, Clarissa."

"Have I displeased you in some way?"

"No, not at all. Why would you ask such a thing?" He said, genuinely surprised.

"Well, at my father's home you seemed as though you..."

She paused.

"As though I what?" He prompted.

"I'm not quite sure how to say it, Milord...as though you wanted me."

"Yes. That's correct. That's why you're here. I wouldn't give you a job if I didn't want you here."

"No," she said. "Maybe I didn't say that right. I meant to say 'as though you desired me'"

"Oh," he replied in astonishment. "I didn't realize that it was that obvious. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"No, Milord. You didn't. I'm just confused now. I've been here for more than two weeks and you haven't even touched me. Maybe I presume too much, but the look you gave me that day was familiar. I've seen it in the eyes of boys in the village when they want me. But they're just boys and don't usually have the courage to pursue me."

"And you want to be pursued?"

"I'd settle for being pursued. But even if they did pursue me, I'd still be the one to grant or deny – I'd still be in control."

She said this last with obvious disappointment and frustration in her voice.

"Many women would enjoy being in that position." Said Sir Warren. "Being desired and being able to choose the man and the circumstances should be very exciting."

"I know. But I'm attracted to strong, decisive men – men who know what they want and are willing to take it!"

"I see," was all he said.

"That's why I jumped at the chance to work for you. You're a man of the world and lord of the manor. I didn't expect you to be so ... shy."

"Clarissa, have you ever been with a man like you describe?"

"No, sir," she said, hanging her head.

"It may not be what you envision," he replied.

"All I know is that none of those boys really brought me pleasure. Sometimes I enjoyed controlling them – making them beg and do whatever I wanted – but the novelty would always wear off. A real man wouldn't do that. A real man would make me comply with his will. I would learn to please him and to get pleasure for doing so. He would take what he wanted – not ruthlessly – but passionately. I would know that I was desired and that would make me want to please him. Soon it would be me doing the begging. I just want a man who's not afraid to be a man and make me feel like a woman. I wouldn't think that was too much to ask."

"It's not too much to ask, but you need to be sure that it's really what you want."

"I've never been more sure of anything," Clarissa said.

"And you were hoping that I would assume that role?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have expected..." then she sniveled. "Why don't you want me?" She asked, openly sobbing.

Sir Warren put his finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his.

"I do want you, Clarissa. I just didn't want to exert my influence over you. Your family and mine share a history. Your father is more than just a subject to me. It was my desire to respect his family. I thought that in time you and I would grow closer and come together – that some day you would accept my gentle advances."

"I wanted you from the moment I saw you," she said. "Given our respective stations, I would have accepted any of your advances, gentle or not."

"Yes, well. Now that we've spoken frankly, I can grant your desires. I'll ask once more and never again – are you sure that this is what you want?"

Now she was faced with a moment of truth.

"Yes, Milord," she said unreservedly.

____________________

Sir Warren clasped the choker behind Clarissa's neck.

"This symbolizes your position as my servant – my wench. You will not wear it when I'm away from the manor or in the presence of the other servants. If I tell you to put it on, I expect you to be obedient and do whatever I say and to allow me to do whatever I want to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Milord."

"Good. Now strip off your clothing."

Clarissa did as she was told. She was so excited that her hands were shaking. (She told herself that she wasn't nervous, just excited.) She finished disrobing and stood in front of Sir Warren.

"Turn around and face away from me."

She did.

Sir Warren came up behind her and caressed the roundness of her buttocks. She trembled. He ran his hands down one leg and up the other. When he again arrived at her ass he grazed the ridge of his finger between her cheeks and squeezed one cheek, kissing the back of her neck at the same time. Clarissa let out a soft moan.

Still behind her, he traced the outline of her hips and the up the sides of her torso.

"Lift your arms up over your head," he said.

When she complied, he continued up her torso, under her armpits, right on up along the length of her arms. When he reached her wrists, he pulled them down behind her back. Holding them in place with one of his large, strong hands, he used the other hand to caress and massage her breasts. Her nipples were pointing straight out, erect and hard. He gently squeezed one, then the other and, when he did, Clarissa moaned again.

Letting loose her wrists, he turned her to face him, lowered his head to her right breast and took it in his mouth. As he sucked it into his mouth, she put her hands on his head. He stopped what he was doing, stood upright and removed her hands from where they were.

"You don't touch me unless I give you permission."

"May I touch you?"

"No. Go prepare a bath."

"Yes, sir," she said.

When the bath was prepared, he went in and told her to remove his clothing. When she stepped forward to do so, he put up his hand to stop her.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

When he returned he was holding a long strip of cloth, which he proceeded to tie around her head, blindfolding her.

"Now you may remove my clothes."

She reached out and he guided her hands to get her started. When he was stripped bare, he took her by the hand and led her to the tub. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to her knees just outside the tub. Then he stepped into the water.

"Bathe me," he commanded, handing her the soap.

She commenced bathing him – lathering his back and chest – and she liked the feel of his skin slick with soap under her hands and fingers. There was no friction as she slid her hands over his muscular body. It proved to be quite arousing. The fact that she couldn't see what she was doing and that she was not yet allowed to see him naked simply made handling his naked body all the more exciting.

She finished his upper body and began to let her hands drift downward. When she reached the crease at his belly and pelvis, he shuddered a little.

"Be careful, I'm ticklish."

Then he directed her hands to his thighs before she was able to settle on his manhood. Clarissa made a barely audible mewing sound of disappointment, but continued to wash and stroke his thighs and legs – down one leg and up the other, much like he had done to hers earlier. When she got to the top of his second leg, she stopped.

"May I finish," she asked.

"Much better. Now you're catching on. Yes, you may."

She took the soap and thoroughly lathered her hands. She reached blindly into the water and found his firmness. She couldn't believe how hard he was. Her instincts took over and she began stroking him with soap-slicked hands. She worked his shaft with her right hand while her left cupped under and pampered his sack below. This continued for a few minutes before Sir Warren put an end to it.

"We will continue this in my chambers," he decided.

He stood up, grabbed the bucket of clean water next to the tub, and rinsed off his body. Then he stepped out and quickly toweled off. He picked up the still-blindfolded Clarissa and carried her to his chambers. Once there he put her down so she was standing on the floor and kissed her deeply.

Breaking off the kiss, he turned her around and bent her over the bed. Then he gently tapped inside her ankles with his foot and she spread her legs slightly. He reached out and ran his hands over her ass again. He straddled her hips with his hands and grabbed firmly. She let out a little gasp and bit her lip in expectation, but what she'd expected didn't follow. Instead, he ran his hands up along her sides and settled on her breasts, squeezing them passionately while he lay his body onto her back.

Standing back up, he gently caressed the inside of her thighs, first one, and then the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Her legs began to shake and quiver. He placed his first two fingers along the length of her slit and began rubbing. Now she moaned loudly.

"Oh, my," he said, teasingly. "You certainly are wet. What are we to do about that?"

"Take me," she fairly shouted.

"So soon? It is tempting, but no, I don't think so."

Clarissa let out a frustrated whimper.

Sir Warren got down on his knees behind her and pressed his tongue to her. She nearly leapt from her skin. He licked up and down her wetness occasionally batting her nub. She dug her fingers into the bedding and bit and chewed the blankets to keep from screaming out.

Then he stopped and stood up.

"Oh, please. Don't stop!"

"Hmm. You did say you wanted to be the one begging. But I'm afraid that's not quite good enough."

"Please. I don't want you to stop. It felt so good."

"Don't worry, we're not done yet. Lie down on the bed on your back."

She jumped on the bed and did as she was told. He took some twine and tied her hands to the bedposts. Then he tied her feet off at the bottom of the bed. Thus restrained, he began to tease her helpless body. He licked down her arm, around her shoulder and into the crook of her neck. This last part she seemed to especially enjoy. Then he kissed her for several minutes while allowing his hand to roam freely about her body.

After kissing her, he got down to serious pleasure-giving. He sucked her breasts into his mouth. He alternately licked her nipples with his hot tongue and blew cold air across them. Lick, blow, lick, blow, then into his mouth.

After several minutes of this, he tongued his way down her belly, pausing briefly at her naval. Then he got his head between her legs again and ate her vigorously. She couldn't dig her fingers into anything; she couldn't grab his hair or head. She was bound and helpless. She had no choice but to ride out the ecstasy.

He went at her with tongue, hands and fingers. He manipulated her sex so that she'd had two orgasms. Then in the middle of another high, he stopped.

"Oh," she gasped. "No. Please don't stop again. I was so close."

"I think it's my turn, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. But I was so close. Just another minute or two. Please."

"No."

"Oh, please. I'm begging. Please don't leave me like this."

He reached down and pulled off the blindfold and looked into her eyes.

"What about this," he said, showing her his engorged flesh for the first time.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Will you take me with that now?"

"Not just yet. I had something else in mind first."

With that he pressed it against her lips and she let him slide into her warm, moist mouth. She sucked on him gently at first, and then she started moving her head back and forth as much as she could. Her current position made it difficult to get the leverage she'd like, but Sir Warren took care of that by simply grabbing her head, holding it immobile and thrusting in and out of her mouth. The sight and sounds were intoxicating. He was clearly getting close when he pulled out. The animated action had Clarissa gasping for air.

He got her feet untied and then retied them to the top of the bed where her hands were. This meant that her hands and feet were essentially tied together and to the top bedposts with her ass raised up in the air vulnerably. He got to the most advantageous position and, for one last time, teased her, stroking the length of his shaft along the length of her slit, but not entering her.

"YES! Now. Please take me. NOW! Please, please, don't make me wait any longer. Plea...Mmmm!"

The moan was a cross between ecstasy and frustration because he didn't enter her as she so desperately wanted. Rather, he lapped at her with his tongue while simultaneously rubbing her clit vigorously with his fingers. She was thrashing as much as her bonds allowed, which amounted to her wiggling her ass up and down and from side to side. This, of course, made the sensations more intense, causing her to go into a seemingly endless loop of pleasure/frustration.

He inserted one, then two fingers while gently nibbling on her clit. This went on for several minutes before he reached up and untied her bonds. He continued to devour her as he reached up and pressed his fingers, dripping with her wetness, into her mouth. She sucked on his fingers and moaned as she tasted herself.

He instructed her to get on her hands and knees and then, after positioning her at the edge of the bed, he stood on the floor behind her and gently slid into her expectant warmth. He allowed just the head to enter her and stopped so that she could acclimate to the new sensation before proceeding, but Clarissa felt ready and impatiently pushed backward, effectively impaling herself.

"Oh," she gasped with a sharp intake of breath.

Sir Warren gradually withdrew. Then, suddenly, thrust forward, fully burying himself into the now wanton Clarissa. He placed his hands on her hips and eased her body back and forth. He stood stock still as he guided her supple folds gently up and down along his rampant shaft.

"Mmmm" she moaned, with her face buried in the bedding. "Oh, yesss! Oh, please, more, more."

"You want more, do you?"

"Oh, yes. Please take me. Use me. Make me do whatever you want. I'll be your wench forever."

"Yes, you will," he said as he began thrusting harder and harder.

"Oh...my...oh...that feels...so...good...don't...stop...please."

He was now a blur of motion, he was pumping in and out so fast and hard. He slowed momentarily so he could talk.

"Once you take my seed, there is no turning back. You will be mine forever – to use as I see fit. For the last time – are you sure that's what you want?"

"Oh, yes. Spill your seed into me. I willingly submit to you, my lord. I want to be used for your pleasure. I will forevermore do anything you want."

"Good," he said resuming his quickened pace.

"Mmm, you feel so good inside me. You're so hard. I love the feeling of you pounding into me like that. Slam into me harder and harder – please."

"Don't worry...ugh...about that...I will...ugh."

Faster and harder he plunged. Clarissa's breasts were swinging wildly about. She planted her face into the bedding again and bit hard into the coverings. They were both grunting like wild animals now. He reached up and grabbed her breasts roughly with his hands as he continued to sexually pummel her into submission – literally.

Clarissa relished every second of this debauchery. She loved being able to finally let go and submit to being used as a sex slave. After all, if she was a slave, she was not responsible for the acts she committed. She absolutely loved sex – everything about it – but it wasn't something young ladies were supposed to do. But now, under these circumstances, she was free to be as lustful as she pleased.