When I awoke several hours later, I had no clue as to where I was. The room was pitch black, and the bed I lay on was softer and finer than any I had ever rested on before. When my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I remembered everything. I was in his lordship's bedroom, and he was gone. He had told me to sleep after he had violated me most foully earlier that same day.
In the darkness, I felt tears of shame slipping down my face. I had been such a good girl. I had never played around with men in the back alleys or laundry rooms like some of the other girls here. I had been good to the point where some had called me prudish. One footman, Ferdy, who had started here over the winter, had followed me around every evening, begging me for a "spot 'o' fun," as he put it. Every time, I had rebuffed him, and every time he called me a prude and a tease. It had all ended when the housekeeper saw him strike me in anger one evening, and told him that if he ever did it again, he would find himself out on the street. Now he treated me with the utmost respect, but I could see the resentment burning in his eyes every time he looked at me. I made it a point never to be alone with him
I couldn't decide what to do. His lordship's bed was very comfortable, and I was still sore and aching from the beating he had administered earlier. However, I did not want to be there when his lordship returned. The decision was taken away from me when I heard the door to the bedroom open and saw the silhouette of a man enter the room.
He came promptly towards the bed and grasped for me in the darkness. When he found me, he pulled me up by my shoulders, wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me. It was a brief kiss, but it was just as fierce as the others I had received from his lordship. Then, with his hands still around my waist, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all and threw me over his shoulder. I thought of kicking him in the stomach, but I knew it would do no good.
He put me down on the narrow table I had seen in the corner of the room when I had first entered it this morning. It was just long enough to support my body while my arms and legs dangled over the ends. In the darkness, I felt his hands on my wrists, binding them to the legs of the table. My wrists were still sore from being tied to the cross earlier, and I let out a sharp cry as he tightened the straps around them. He moved swiftly, grabbing my hair, pulling my head back, and slapping me full across the face. I took that as a demand for silence, since his lordship did not seem to be in a talkative mood.
I heard him move away from me, and soon I heard the strike of the tinderbox. The room was suddenly pooled in a dim light. I still couldn't see his lordship because he had faced me away from the center of the room. In the pale light, I could see only the door to his lordship's dressing room in front of me.
I felt him come up behind me and tie my legs, which fell just short of the floor, to the legs of the table. They too were sore, but I knew better than to cry out this time. I bit my lip and told myself it was not nearly as bad as the other pain I had experienced that day.
I heard him moving behind me, and I fully expected to feel the sting of his hand of the riding crop at any moment. Instead, I left the cold metal of a knife at the base of my spine, carefully cutting away my corset and the shirt underneath it. It felt wonderful to be free of the constraining material, but I felt so exposed. I was entirely naked before a man, and I felt the heat rising up to my face again.
My legs were spread by the width of the table alone, so it was no difficulty for him to move between my legs. I cried out as he plunged his cock deep into my pussy. While I was sore from the phallus earlier, it was not the pain that caused me to cry out. It was the shame. Even with all the other ways I'd been used, he'd never actually fucked me like this. Up until that moment, I had been holding on to some shred of my virginity, but now that was lost too.
He began to slowly move inside me. It was odd that in my pussy he could feel much larger than I remembered him. But I had no experience with sex, so I did not know if this was at all unusual. I was completely unable to move, so I just gave myself over to the relentless slide of his cock inside my pussy. Even though the humiliation had not passed, I began to feel a building sense of pleasure. I was ashamed of this feeling, but at the same time, it was so much better than anything else I had been made to feel that I almost didn't care.
