Sold into Service

Sold into Service
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ISBN:  9781780804408
Author:  Madeleine Tanner
Word Count:  76,857
Format:  eBook

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Betty Serves the MasterBetty Serves the Master

His snake breath hissed: 'You are completely at my disposal.' He forced her chin higher. 'Do you understand?'
   'Yes, sir.' Proud, wilful Betty knelt timidly before the Squire. 'Please, sir. I'm so sorry. I don' know what I were thinking. You being the master and me, only a girl. I knows I should be more humble an' proper.'
   'Yes, and to that end you must prepare for your punishment.' The Squire glared pitilessly at Betty. 'You must make amends for your scandalous behaviour.'
   Betty's head drooped and her voice became hollow with fear. 'I beg you, please don't beat me, sir.' Betty touched her palms in supplication, then clasped her arms around the Squire's legs, resting her cheek against his groin. 'Oh, sir, please don't hurt me!'

1788. Betty, wilful, beautiful and lusty is taken into service at the manor, ostensibly to pay off her violent stepfather's debts, in reality to satisfy the Squire's demand for yet another virgin bride.

Here she undergoes a variety of degrading but delicious sexual practices: voluptuous punishments at the hands of the debauched Squire, the intimate attentions and the inquisition of the corrupt priest, and the constant humiliations of a collection of bizarre servants. All are part of the master's nefarious plan for ultimate defloration.

Should she remain a victim of the Squire's outrageous but compelling proclivities, or leave? With conflicting feelings Betty decides she must flee. But can she escape from the power of the man who has threatened to take her virginity?

'I shall tie the wench myself but a blindfold would not come amiss, Adam.' The Squire strode into the barn followed by his servant. 'Is the girl prepared, Giles?'
   'Why, sir, she's washed her...'
   'Don't trouble me with details. Have you fixed the ropes?'
   'Yes, sir.'
   'Then get out.'
   Betty stood to attention in her nightdress. In the cold, the thick linen couldn't disguise her erect nipples. The Squire tied a blindfold over her eyes and fondled her breasts.
   Adam watched hungrily. He'd spent the night frantically masturbating but his feelings hadn't subsided. He was hoping he'd get a chance to be near her but Giles'd kept a close watch. It was now unlikely they'd be alone together.
   'Well, Betty, are you cold?'
   'A little, sir. I ain't used to sleeping in a barn, an' mother lets me by the fire.'
   'Do not fear, I shall soon warm you.'
   Betty shivered as his hands continued to grope roughly. 'I trust you have contemplated your sins thoroughly.'
   'I have thought and thought sir, and think only that I have tried to please you, master.'
   'Then you lie! And I am most displeased. Your father informs me that you are a religious girl. No doubt, like other wayward girls, you use the confessional as a means of cleansing your soul in order that you might sin again for your own pleasure.'
   'Indeed not, sir. I am a sinner, sir, but I don' mean to be... Father Loughran—'
   'You may speak to the priest later.' The Squire's voice sharpened. 'Meanwhile, I shall hear your confession. Put out your hands.'
Betty obliged and the Squire proceeded to tie her wrists and fix them to the pulley. 'Adam, the horsewhip if you please.'
   The Squire slid the smooth leather over the contours of Betty's shapely frame. 'Betty, you have committed a number of gross errors which you shall confess.' He pressed the leather over each breast in turn. 'A small taste of the whip should help you to recall them.'
   Under the blindfold Betty's eyelids fluttered, and her breast heaved with conflicting emotion. 'Sir, I would not do wrong to you. I honour you, sir, and I... I love you!'
   'Love? Love?' He laughed in astonishment. 'What impertinence is this? I spoke of marriage, of duty, not of love!' The evil Squire paused for a moment, winked maliciously at Adam, then abruptly brought the lash diagonally over Betty's back. The force sent her spinning and the nightdress lifted away from her body. She could barely take a breath as the second stroke caught her across her exposed hips and thighs.
   'But since you speak of love... the proof, my dear Betty, of your love is the unquestioning acceptance of my punishment, the unquestioning acceptance of my will. Confess and perhaps you shall be forgiven.'
   'I... I'm sorry. I know'd I'm wrong.' Betty's lips trembled as tears welled. She'd received beatings all her life but nothing had prepared her for the vicious pain of the horsewhip. 'I shouldn'a taken off me clothes, sir. I'm sorry.'
   The instrument of torture descended again. 'And the second misdemeanour?'
   'I shouldn'a, I shouldn'a... I don't know, sir... I don't know!'
   'Betty, you tempted Adam with your body. You drew him to your breast thrusting your bosom into his hand. Liza has said as much. You opened your legs to him. You said, "I love you". Do you deny it?'
   'No sir, but... I'm sorry, master, truly I am.'
   'You consort with the servants and then you have the temerity, the temerity...'
   Adam prompted, 'To touch the master, fool!'
   'Sir I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn'a touched you. I didn't mean to, honest, sir. I felt so lonely.'
   'Bah! Lonely! Think only of your duty to me. What business does a peasant girl have with fine emotions?' The whip swirled in the air again.
   'None... sir.' Betty slumped, stretching the rope to its utmost. Her childish heart trembled. The pain of the whip was bearable, the pain of rejection was not. How stupid to think the Squire would care for her. Giles had warned her not to dream.
   'And the final error, Betty? Think back to your arrival and your shameless behaviour. Property of the master, showing off to the common grooms. And you dare to look me in the eye? Tell me what you are, whore!'
   'I ain't a whore, sir. I ain't indeed. I knows I'm bad but I ain't a whore.'
   'You are shameless, Betty, and you behave like a common strumpet.'
   'Sir, I'm truly sorry. Please forgive me. I shouldn'a taken me clothes off and I shouldn'a looked, sir.'
   'No indeed, and now you shall suffer the consequences. Since you like to be half-dressed, you shall be in that state for the remainder of your punishment.'
   Using a small knife the Squire pierced the nightdress at the back, slitting it to below the groin. He tore the cloth to expose Betty's shoulders, waist and rump. Then made smaller slits so that glimpses of her breasts, nipples and belly peeped through the linen as she swung.
   'Adam, ten strokes, if you please.' The Squire grinned maliciously; it would be torture for the groom to whip the girl he loved. 'And then we shall see how compliant she has become.'
   Adam's whip was smaller than the master's, but to Betty it felt as lethal for Adam was discharging his pent-up frustration. He couldn't fuck the girl but he could inflict pain. And the pain he inflicted would bring him to orgasm. The Squire watched with intense relish as Adam struck her across the back and thighs. The whipping had almost drawn blood where it'd touched bare flesh, raising several weals. Ah, the excitement of that vital fluid; the colour, taste, and smell of the hunt, the thrill of the chase, of the fox and hounds. The power, the absolute power entrusted to him, to do exactly as he pleased with this worthless being.
   'Yes, she is lovely in white,' he muttered. 'I will see to it that she wears white. And then...' the Squire's face contorted into a vile grimace, 'when I have had my fill of the slut... Ha! Or she of me!' He laughed madly. 'Then she shall wear the colour red!'
   Adam whipped in a frenzy and was set to deliver more lashes when the Squire stopped him. 'Enough! Let her down and leave her to me.'
   Adam obeyed reluctantly. He'd enjoyed his work, as the damp bulge on his breeches testified, but he'd not reached completion.
   'You may watch, Adam.' He tapped the welt on Adam's hand. 'But remember the property is mine. Consider yourself lucky I do not seek to punish you further.' Adam stepped aside, clasping his wound. It was a long time since he'd been horsewhipped by the Squire, but he didn't relish a repetition.
   The Squire watched Betty writhe in distress, his massive erection increasing in size. 'On your knees girl, and observe the instrument of your pleasure. You have seen and touched the sacred phallus, now you may taste its delights.' The Squire reached into his breeches and lifted out his swollen penis. 'You wish to show your love. Now is your opportunity. Do you not think it beautiful, my dear?'
   Betty moved painfully to her knees, the tattered garment falling in folds around her. Through damp eyelashes she gazed at the enormous appendage rearing from the Squire's groin.
   'Well, Betty? Answer me.'
   'I don't know what I think, sir, but it has grown very large, larger than before. I ain't seen nothing like it, 'cept on a horse.'
   'You must have seen a man's cock before.'
   'Sir, I seen me brothers' but I told the priest an' I been forgiven.'
   'Speak honestly, Betty. Open your heart. There must be no secrets between us. I cannot take you to my bed if you have fornicated with other men.'
   'Sir, I never done nothing like that, an' I never touched a man's private parts. Father Loughran said I shouldn't, an' not to touch mine neither... 'cept I can't help meself.'
   'And have you wet a man's privates with your virginal tongue?'
   'No sir!' Betty was shocked at the question. 'Indeed I have not.' She shook her head. 'I wish to please you, master, but I don't know as I can.'
   'You will please me whether you like it or not.' The Squire held Betty's shoulders tightly in his strong grip. 'There, Betty, it is not so bad.' He put the tip of his cock to her lips and rubbed it over her face, marking her with his scent. 'Open your mouth.' He pressed the glans against her, pushing slightly.
   'You must learn to swallow me, my dear, on a daily basis. I cannot marry a girl who will baulk from her duty as a wife.' He pushed inside a little. 'Your father said you were a good and willing girl. Let us hope we will not be disappointed and that you will please me with your tongue. What say you, Adam?' The Squire looked triumphantly at the groom. Adam's breeches had become unloosed and he'd pushed a hand inside to rub his cock.
   Betty's eyelids fluttered as she tasted the salty juices weeping from the tip of the Squire's cock. How could she possibly swallow him? Close up, the dome wedged between her lips, the Squire's cock looked as broad as that of a bull. It would kill her...

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