Spank me mr darcy, p.8
Spank Me, Mr. Darcy, page 8
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, glad that her mother would soon be gone.
However, her youngest sister put herself forward. Lydia and Kitty had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother’s ear:
“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.”
Elizabeth nearly swooned. There would be a full ball at Netherfield. If this was only a sampling of what went on, what pleasures would she find at the gala event?
Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes—it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,” she added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane to tell her the news, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on fine eyes. He had plans to make.
Chapter 10
The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table and the servants, however, did not appear.
Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with her opinion of each. Miss Bingley needled the poor man so much, Elizabeth was getting a headache on his behalf. She excused herself and once out of the drawing-room felt that she could breathe again.
With a thoughtful look at the door behind her, Elizabeth marched straight for the back staircase. The one that Miss Bingley had so roughly moved her down the other day. No one seemed to be stirring and for a moment, Elizabeth wondered if she was dreamt the whole erotic affair.
When she opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, it wasn’t into the servants’ quarters, but into the room of delights that she had been in. Shutting the door behind her, Elizabeth began to take off her clothes. This was not a room for such things. When she was gloriously naked, she whirled around in a circle, her arms reaching out for freedom. Oh how she wished Charlotte was here. They could play with the restraints and the beaded flail.
Elizabeth looked around the room and found the flail in a vase by the enormous bed. She picked it up and ran a finger down the studded leather shaft. Her thoughts wandered on where Miss Bingley had threatened to put it.
When the door opened up on the far side, Elizabeth was rooted in place in fear. It was one thing to be here naked on her own, it was another to be caught in this place. If this was during one of the Netherfield balls, she would be thought of part of the entertainment and forced to participate in debauchery. The thought made her ache with need instead of flush with shame.
Her mouth grew dry when the servant crawled in. He was the same man she had sat on. Only in addition to having a pony’s tail, his mouth was fitted with a bridal. With the flail in her hand, this was so much like her dream that she began to shake. Then she noticed who was holding his reins. It was the man with the black mask and he was as naked as she.
“It couldn’t be Mr. Darcy then,” she thought. “He was still upstairs writing a letter to his sister while Miss Bingley prattled on, intent on interrupting him.
“I’m so glad to see you Elizabeth,” the man in the black mask said.
And though she strained to catch a familiar cadence of his voice, she could not place him. Yet his eyes were as dark and riveting as Mr. Darcy’s.
“What do I call you?’
“I told you. You are to call me Master. I brought you a present. Since you didn’t have a horse to ride, I have provided one for you.”
“You would get rid of me, Master?” Elizabeth said, trying out the strange word. It immediately bound her to him, by a force she was unsure of, but powerful enough she could not deny it.
“If you want to ride him home, you may. Get astride him. It’s the closest you’re going to come to his cock.”
Elizabeth inched towards the servant on his hands and knees. Did she dare?
“Throw your leg over him. Let him feel the wetness between your thighs on his bare back.”
His words were pure seduction and unable to refuse, Elizabeth sat astride him.
“That’s right,” the man growled. “Now rock against him.”
“M-master?’ she stuttered.
He knelt beside them. “Like this.” He put his big hands on her hips and forced her to grind against the man’s back.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth breathed, feeling the friction against her bud.
“He’s a nice horse, isn’t he.”
“Oh yes,” Elizabeth moaned, placing her hands on the servant’s shoulders.
The man tugged on the hanging tail and the servant arched, almost knocking her over.
“Careful,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to injure your rider. Elizabeth, why don’t you use that flail on your pony when he’s naughty?”
Elizabeth lightly danced it across his back. “Like this?”
“No,” the man wrenched it from her grasp and snapped it against her breasts.
She cried out in shock rather than pain.
“Like this.” He hit the beads against the tips of her breasts over and over.
Elizabeth bounced on the man, throwing her shoulders back. Each strike was like a dozen probing fingers plucking at her most sensual area. She felt the hot kiss of the leather reddening her breasts and it was working her to a frenzy.
“So responsive,” the man groaned and leaned in to take a hot throbbing nipple into his mouth.
Elizabeth screamed then as the wet suction pushed her over the edge. She slickened the servant’s back with her come and it made the friction against her core maddening.
The man’s hand stroked down the silky curve of her spine to rest at the base of her back. Here, slide up on him a bit.” He moved her up towards the man’s shoulders. Her legs were stretched wide. It was hard to keep her balance.
The man’s member was as thick and hard as she remembered. She watched in awe when he removed the servant’s bit and plunged in his cock before the servant could move.
“Oh, Elizabeth, are you watching?”
“Yes,” she could barely look away.
“Grab his hair again.”
She reached in to delve her fingers into the silky blond mass.
“Guide his head on my cock.”
Elizabeth did pushing the servant’s head forward and then tugging it roughly back.
The man surprised her by reaching his fingers to plunder at her throbbing clitoris.
“Have you let another man touch you thus?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Just Charlotte.”
“What have you done?”
Elizabeth could only shake her head and grip the servant’s head in place while the man rolled his hips into the servant’s mouth.
“Have you sucked cock?”
She nodded.
“Did you like it?”
She nodded. “I wanted more. I wound up nearly attacking Charlotte afterwards.”
The man groaned. Elizabeth saw his buttocks clenching and the man’s hands covered hers on the servant’s head.
“Has another man taken your breasts in his mouth?”
She shook her head. “Only Charlotte.”
“I should like to see the two of you together.”
“I fear it will no longer be enough,” Elizabeth whispered.
“What?” The man said, his entire body grew still.
“I need more.”
With a grunt and a shudder, the man’s hands tightened over hers. The servant made eager noises and swallowed.
“Miss Bennet, you do surprise me.” He got to his feet with the lithe moves of a dancer and then helped her off of the servant. “I shall give you more.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “To have more would mean I am no longer a virgin and no man would marry me then. You men have the freedom to indulge all of your desires without consequence. It is a woman’s lot to deny herself the pleasure until marriage.”
“Tell me, my sweet, do you ever wish you were a man?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, but my friend Charlotte mentioned it once.”
“I see I’m going to be in competition from your friend Charlotte.”
Elizabeth looked at his half flaccid member, glistening with mettle and spit. Her fingers twitched to touch it.
“You may stroke me if you like.”
“I’ve done that before,” she said and gripped him eagerly.
“Some farmer’s boy, no doubt.”
“Charlotte’s brother,” Elizabeth admitted, feeling him harden against her palm and fingers. “He wasn’t as big as you.”
The man laughed. “I like hearing you tell me how big I am. It shall be the same when I am nestled inside you.”
Her hand faltered. “As I said, I would like to be a virgin for my husband. He would expect it of me and I will not start my marriage off with a lie.”
“Virginity is over rated. I bet your husband would want you wanton and panting for him instead.”
“Can’t I do both?” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his hips, nestling his member between her breasts.
He rubbed against her. “You have excellent instincts for a virgin. But I will let you decide if you wish to experience the pleasure of mating with me. First, you must see what it’s like for a man.” He broke away from her hold to walk to a cabinet.
Pulling out a jar of oil, he poured some down the servant’s back, who hissed and arched his back.
“Thank you, Master,” he spoke his first words. His voice was thick and low.
Elizabeth watched as the man pulled the pony tail completely out and poured more oil down the man’s back so it dripped into his puckered hole. She was fascinated.
“Crawl closer, dear Miss Bennet,” the man said, then picked up the flail and laid it across her buttocks. “The correct answer is yes, Master.”
“Yes, Master,” Elizabeth said.
“Hold out your hands.” His fingers tightened on the flail.
“Yes Master,” she said quickly and held them out. He poured oil on them until they were fully coated.
“Rub it on my cock.”
“Yes, Master.” Elizabeth did, coating it with the oil. He slipped in and out of her hands. She loved the slippery feel of him, so strong and warm.
“Now watch, for I will take you this way very soon, so you will still be a virgin for your husband.”
Elizabeth watched the man ease into the servant. His hole expanding to take in the man’s girth. The servant’s face was one of concentration and intensity. The man pushed in to the hilt and just stayed in one place.
“Get back on him,” the man ordered. “Face me.”
Elizabeth did.
“Hold on tight with your thighs,” he said. “Rub your hands over those luscious breasts while I fuck him.”
She should have been affronted by his language, but she found herself bouncing on the servant and oiling her breasts indolently while watching the man pump in and out.
He was breathing heavily, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. “This is what a man does. What a man feels. There are no consequences for our act of penetration. We go to the bridal bed with the expectation of experience. You come to it in fear. Not knowing the pleasure.”
“I know there’s pleasure … Master,” Elizabeth caught herself.
“I will be in you.”
She had no words. She worked her fingers over her nipples as the man pummeled the servant who was crying out. For the second time that night, the man’s body tightened. Elizabeth saw his member jerk and twitch and as he slid out of the servant, the man was coated in his own mettle.
“How do you feel, Elizabeth?” He pushed her off the servant. She lay on her back, waiting for him to cover his body with hers.
““Daring, dangerous. My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them.”
The man slapped the servant on the rump.”You have my leave to walk out of here.”
“Thank you Master,” he said.
“Send down the maid,” he said.
“Yes, Master.”
The man walked over to a pitcher and poured it into a basin. He cleaned himself thoroughly. But in the time he took, Elizabeth’s ardor cooled and she closed her legs, feeling awkward and unsure. She inched towards her clothes.
Just as Elizabeth was about to grab her dress, he was upon her. She felt his wet member against her backside. He was hot and slick and she involuntarily rubbed up against him before she realized what she was doing and gasped.
“Nothing is more deceitful,” he said, “than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.”
“And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?” She asked archly, trying to get away from him.
“ The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. I have spent myself twice, yet feeling you underneath me has me hardening again. Your lessons aren’t over this quickly Miss Bennet. You came to me of your own free will. I have not decided to let you go.”
“Nay,” cried Elizabeth, “this is too much.”
“I have not it in me at the moment to make love to you like you deserve.”
“I have not asked you to.”
“You will,” he said.
They both turned towards the woman who had appeared in the room. She was also naked, clips attached to her nipples and a chain hung between them. She was completely shaved between her legs. Elizabeth’s mouth opened in shock. Her fingers itched to touch the smooth flesh. This was no masked stranger, it was the ladies maid who had kissed her.
“Inga,” the man said, pulling himself and Elizabeth to their feet. “Miss Bennet has been lacking in orgasms tonight. Kiss her until she is clawing at you. I have something to attend.”
Inga held out her hand and guided Elizabeth to the bed. “I’m so glad we get to play.”
“Do those hurt?” Elizabeth said, kneeling on the bed across from her.
“Tug on the chain,” Inga said.
Elizabeth did and watched the nipples stretch.
“Oh, you have a gentle touch,” Inga said. “It feels like this.”
She cried out when Inga pinched and stretched both of Elizabeth’s nipples, pulling them so she fell into her. Inga wasted no time covering the girl’sElizabeth’s her mouth and bearing her down to the bed. Their legs entangled. The chain and clips dug into Elizabeth’s sensitive skin. Inga’s hands roamed over Elizabeth’s heated body, knowing where to touch. Elizabeth followed suit, pressing her hands to Inga’s bottom to wiggle the jeweled plug. Moaning into her mouth, Inga swiped her tongue against Elizabeth’s. They played like that, writhing against each other. Elizabeth was flipped on top and as Inga kissed her, she felt the man sliding a leather belt around her waist.
She knelt up to find that there was a penis dangling from the belt. Elizabeth held it in her hand, too shocked at first to realize it was being cinched around her waist. It wasn’t real;, it was wooden, but it dangled off the belt he had put on her like a real phallus.
Elizabeth felt dizzy and out of sorts. Inga leaned back on the bed, raising her knees to her chest.
“Take her,” the man encouraged, pushing her down on Inga. “Take her like a man.”
Elizabeth was clumsy, but the man helped guide the wooden phallus inside Inga. His hands were pressed on her backsizde, as she tried to rememberdecide what to do. In the end, it was Inga locking her legs around Elizabeth’s hips that joined them together intimately.
The man lay next to them. “Yes, make love to her like you secretly wish to be ravaged.”
Elizabeth began to tremble, then her hips spasmed into a frenzy. She pushed herself forward into Inga’s eager, receiving body. Pleasure and satisfaction warred within her as she gazed into Inga’s rapturous face.
“This is what I will look like when my husband takes me,” Elizabeth thought, and felt power tingle through her as she thrust harder, deeper.
Inga bounced along happily, making guttural sounds of pleasurerapture.
“You two look lovely together,” the man slid his hand down Elizabeth’s thrusting buttocks and began to probe her corespank her soundly.
