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Chapter 4 – My failings cause Rose to be beaten
The following day I spent going over the house accounts with Mrs. Jones; they were all in a neat and satisfactory state, though I was surprised at the expenditure that the house required, more than three times that at Deepwell. At mid-afternoon, as I was thinking of leaving it for the day and writing some letters, we were both summoned to the Yellow Salon. As we arrived so did Rose and I shivered as I recognised the group that had so far meant only trials to me.
“Well, wife, you have a little learning to do. Last night I asked you to perform a certain task and you singularly failed. So today I think practice is required. How do you say?”
“I... I am most sorry, Sir. I did not mean to offend, but it is a task with which I am not familiar. I will try harder tonight, I promise.” Why had he not simply asked for more effort last night?
“Thank you for your honesty, my dear. And you will try harder, right now. Rose, undress your mistress.”
I almost ran at that moment, it was unsupportable. But Rose was instantly at the task of undoing hooks, laces and buttons and I froze. All too soon I was naked again. My husband reclined comfortably in his chair and beckoned me over.
“Undo my breaches, my love. Let us get you to your task.”
I could not move. It was simply beyond all reason. “Please, Sir Thomas, please. This is not possible. Please let us retire.”
“Come here and do as I say or shall I ask Mrs. Jones to fetch George to come and have his turn with little Rosie here? I don’t think he has sampled her yet.”
What choice did I have? I could not watch her raped again at my refusal. I stumbled to him and knelt to unbutton his breaches and tug forth his member. It was already more than half erect. I tried not to look at it. I began to cry; how could he be so cruel?
“Let us begin then. We will begin where we left off last night. Kiss me.”
I complied, knowing that Rose and Mrs. Jones were watching me, kissing the thing before me and wetting it with the tears from my screwed up eyes. I could feel it stiffening and throbbing beneath my lips.
“Open your eyes, wife. I expect your pretty eyes to be visible at all times. For each time that I have to remind you, young Rosie will get a stripe from the crop at the end. Now once you have kissed my cock for a bit I expect you to start licking it.”
Without even the refuge of being able to close my eyes I began to run the tip of my tongue along the shaft. I could see blood pulsing along the veins on the thing. It felt searingly hot as if would burn my poor tongue.
“Wetter, my dear, wetter. Use the whole of your pretty tongue. I want you to get it dripping with your saliva. Tears too, if you like!”
His callousness only increased my suffering but I tried to obey his commands, though he had to remind me to open my eyes once. With shock I realised I had just earned Rose a stroke of the crop. Soon indeed the entire member was glistening with wetness from my mouth.
“Now it is time for you to kiss my balls, pretty one. Do it with real love.” He pushed my head lower and soon his sack was up against my mouth. I shuddered, it was both wrinkled and hairy.
“Eyes open!” I had just failed Rose again. I kissed them one after the other and back again.
“Now lick!” The feeling of his wet hair on my tongue was most unpleasant, but I had no choice. His groans told me I must be doing something the right way.
“Time to really use your mouth. I want you to open it and suck the head inside.” The moment I had been most dreading arrived. I slid my lips over the tip and felt the big head in my poor mouth: stiff and warm. I could taste the very maleness of him. I had no idea what to do now. In shame I closed my eyes as the tears flowed. It felt so very large on my tongue.
“That’s another stripe for you, Rosie! Your mistress can’t seem to remember, or perhaps she doesn’t care.” I did care but this was so excruciatingly hard, being debased before the housekeeper and one’s maid.
“Begin sucking, my dear. And, as you do that, I want you to slide your mouth back and forth on it. Ouch!” My teeth had banged into him as I tried to suck and move my mouth together. “Your teeth are not meant to touch my cock! Put your upper lip over the top ones and your tongue over the bottom ones. Try again!”
It was so difficult to do right. Twice more my teeth banged into him making him wince. Once more I closed my eyes, this time at the discomfort of the head of his organ banging into the back of my mouth when he pulled me right onto him.
It seemed to be going on forever. Then I heard the door opening. Frantic I tried to pull off but he held me in my place firmly.
“Ah Mary, the tea. You may lay it out here on this table. Mrs. Jones will pour as her ladyship is somewhat busy.” And I was: sobbing my heart out round his hard member.
“Open your eyes, dearest wife!” Oh God, I’d forgotten again. My eyes flew open and out of the corner of them I could see the housemaid laying out the afternoon tea: plates, saucers and cups for the cakes and tea. It could not be any worse than this. Every member of staff would know in a few minutes. It was unspeakable.
“I am sure you will be glad to know I am about to finish, my dear.” Please, I prayed... please not while Mary was still here. The damned girl was still setting out the sandwiches. You could wager she was taking her sweet time.
“When I do I expect you to swallow it all like an obedient wife. Then you will keep the head in your mouth till I tell you to withdraw it.” And with that I felt the first powerful spurt of his seed at the back of my mouth. It tasted so strong, so male: slimy and unpleasant and enough to nearly make one sick. Reluctantly I swallowed it, still sucking on the tip as more of the mess pumped from it.
“And your eyes are supposed to be open. When will you learn?” Swallowing, sobbing and moaning I once again opened them. I could hear Mary leaving the room.
“Look at me, my dear.” I looked up along his belly and chest and, through my tears, saw him smiling down at me as I held is slowly softening organ in my mouth.
“You did very well for a first attempt. You still have a lot to learn but I can see that you will be an avid pupil. Now would you like some tea?” I nodded without removing either the thing from my mouth, where it now lay quiescent on my tongue, or my eyes from his.
“Would you prefer to dress or remain as you are?” As he asked this he eased my head from his lap and smiled broadly at me. How could he find this amusing?
“Dressed, please. Please let me dress.”
“Absolutely, my dear,” and he helped me to stand. As he did so his hand slid up my leg and touched me lightly just there.
“Ah, I thought you might be. A little dampness there.” I blushed scarlet. He was quite right; despite the excruciatingly humiliating position and circumstance, the mere presence of his powerful body and its violent member had made me somewhat excited despite all my wishes to the contrary. Quickly I slipped on my drawers and with Rose’s help dressed quickly.
As I was reaching for the cup of tea I so badly needed I heard his deep voice behind me.
“Before you tuck in I think we should settle accounts with young Rosie. Five strokes I believe to account for her ladyship’s failings. Bend over that chair. Lady Caroline, you go round and hold your maid’s arms in place, please.” And so I found myself kneeling on the rug holding the poor girl’s wrists as she bend over a tall chair with her bottom high in the air. We were face to face and I mouthed ‘I am sorry’ to her only for her to mouth back ‘you promised, Ma’am’. I felt crushed.
“Mrs. Jones, five across her posterior with the crop. Naked is more effective.” This drew a wail from Rose and she half tried to stand but my hold kept her in place. Her short dress was flipped up onto her back and five nasty ‘cracks’ followed as the crop bit into her drawer-less backside. I saw her stamping her boots and gasping and moaning from the pain. When it was over I was letting her go when I heard a final command.
“Hold that position girl! Wife, come look at what your inattention has wrought.” I had to go and inspect the five angry red wheals across my poor maid’s posterior; they looked terribly sore. I could also see the bruises on her thighs and the straw-coloured curls on her sex.
“You may touch them if you wish,” he said with amusement. But that was the last thing I wanted and the poor girl was finally allowed to flee the room while my husband and I enjoyed our afternoon tea.
That night in his bed he teased me unmercifully with his probing, tickling fingers and by kissing my face, neck and breasts until finally I could bear it no longer and begged him to mount me.
“A little sucking first, wife!” This time I did not hesitate or attempt to appease him with half-measures. I sucked at him as I had been taught that afternoon and I believe I did creditably.
When finally he took me I was instantly lost once more in the rapture of my climax and remained in a state of pleasurable delirium until he finished riding me. How was I to live with a man who could be so calculatingly cruel and yet give me so much pleasure?
The End (for now)
*****
I could leave Lady Caroline in this somewhat compromised position as the tale will stand in its own right. But as she said in the opening line her downfall has been complete. And so I think there is rather more that she has to suffer if people are interested.
Let me know what you think of my effort and what works and does not work. I cannot promise to change my style, but I am interested in your opinions.
Surtea
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