Strictly Discipline

Strictly Discipline
  Zoom
Our Price:  £3.99Earn 3 Loyalty Points
+
Preferred Format:  

ISBN:  9781907976735
Author:  Roxane Beaufort
Word Count:  78,776
Format:  eBook

Availability:  

  

Devil's ParadiseDevil's Paradise
Fate's VictimFate's Victim
Foxy LadyFoxy Lady
In Too DeepIn Too Deep

There followed a hush, the air loaded with anticipation. Waiting was a gruelling enough punishment on its own. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she panicked and struggled against those impossible bonds. Then there was a whoosh behind her, followed by a thwack.
   'Ow!' she screamed as leather connected with her bottom and fire lanced her. 'Oh, ow!' She almost wet herself with the shock of it, so harsh, so brutal, so inescapable.

Amelie Aston is an orphan. When eight she was adopted by the Reverend Thacker and brought up by him and his wife in a Somerset village. She led a sheltered life, though as she matures she is subjected to the unwelcome attentions of his sons. Thacker, too, lusts after her, relieving his frustration by administering correction, using his whip and cane.

Now eighteen, Amelie is a lovely young woman with chestnut hair and green eyes, and obsessed by his guilt, Thacker finds her a position as companion to Lord Mervin Bessborough's sickly sister, Millicent. There is nothing physically wrong with Millicent, her ailments down to sexual frustration; she is a virgin, repressed and miserable, dominated by her brother.

In this tense household Amelie finds danger, pursued by Marvin, who introduces her to his profligate cronies and forces her to perform lewd acts with them. He uses and abuses her, introducing her to pain and pleasure, beating her whenever he likes.

Can Amelie at last escape Mervin's tyranny? Does she really want to? Or are her darkest desires satisfied when she submits to his mastery?

When Mervin left his sister he immediately turned the knob of the door leading from the landing to the dressing room, which in turn was connected to the bedchamber. Dulcie was waiting for him, a wary look on her snub-nosed, freckled face. This excited him and his cock surged, rising almost to his navel under the jodhpurs. This is how servant girls should be - willing and obedient, prepared to service their masters at a moment's notice. No airs and graces about them and he believed, along with his peers, that lower class women were made differently to genteel ladies and actually enjoyed intercourse and craved to have a stiff tool thrust up them.
   He grabbed Dulcie by the arm and steered her onto the landing. 'Follow me,' he grated harshly.
   Striding ahead of her he took the staircase that led to his private apartment. His ancestors smiled sardonically down on him from heavily carved and gilded frames. There were row upon row of them - swashbuckling privateers who had been made gentlemen, given titles and land by a grateful Virgin Queen when they whopped the Spaniards and filled her coffers with Castilian booty. They became feudal lords and landowners of Royalist persuasion and poured wealth into the ventures of their Sovereigns; also bankers who had been generous to the reigning monarch, and wily procurers who provided venues for dalliance and downright fornication among the aristocracy. They were all there, captured on canvas for posterity. Mervin was proud to be descended from them, and their foxy lady wives who, if rumour was to be believed, never hesitated to oblige blue-blooded members of the Crown Imperial and satisfy noblemen's lusts, motivated purely by greed and advancement.
   What a family, Mervin thought smugly as he opened the door of his suite and thrust Dulcie in. Manipulative and devious, possessed of pronounced good looks and perverse desires, and a determination to wring every iota of pleasure from life and behave outrageously into the bargain.
   He had Dulcie wait in the middle of the drawing room while he addressed his valet, Humphrey, who was standing to attention and apparently unruffled by his master's sudden appearance with Lady Millicent's maid.
   'Get out, man! I'll ring for you later.'
   Humphrey gave him a supercilious stare. He was blond, spare of build and immaculately attired, a typical gentleman's gentleman, but so attractive that he caused emotional havoc among members of staff, male and female alike.
   'Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord.' He bowed himself out, after subjecting Dulcie to disdainful scrutiny.
   'Pompous prick,' Mervin remarked, and then guided Dulcie into the bedroom.
   This was his sanctum, the place where he was most at home, where he plotted his deepest schemes and brewed the strongest mischief. This was but the antechamber leading to the place where he practiced his vices. From there, via a secret passage, a hidden staircase led down to the bowels of the house where once the dungeons had lain. He had returned them to their former use, though not for the punishment of miscreants, but rather as a backdrop to the scenes of delectation and delight enjoyed by the members of his secret society. Like him, they were hell-bent on experiencing all aspects of pain and pleasure, domination and slavery.
   The bedroom was panelled in dark oak and sumptuously furnished in the Gothic style so popular in Victorian England, but this was the genuine article, not reproduction. Tapestries depicting hunting scenes covered some of the walls, executed by Bessborough womenfolk two centuries before. Mervin, much travelled in his misspent youth, had added various items of exotica obtained from as far away as India. Carved figurines of the flute playing Krishna, the elephant-headed god Ganesh, and the fearsome female deity, Kali, stood on ebony plinths with blue-grey smoke from incense wafting up in their honour.
   The Indian temples he'd visited, with their boldly carved and sexually explicit friezes, had inspired him to collect similar statuary, and several shelves were lined with representations of couples in the throes of ecstasy, limbs entwined, joined at the genitals. Mervin cast a glance at Dulcie, satisfied to see her open-mouthed and goggling at these highly prized and rare examples of Eastern art. It was not the first time the girl had visited his den, but her shocked expression never failed to amuse him. It was all too much for a simple country wench and he loved, above all things, to shock and alarm, to be in control, especially of those whom he regarded as peasants.
   He closed his hands over Dulcie's well-developed breasts and squeezed. 'Oh, sir... my lord, I mean... you shouldn't be doing that,' she protested, but in a half-hearted way, already seduced by the skilful manner in which he revolved his thumbs over her nipples.
   He could smell her excitement, and breathed deeply of that scent he associated with the nursery maids who had looked after him from infancy. They, too, had been working class, redolent of sweat and carbolic soap, thick woollen stockings and sensible underwear. He rarely passed a young female servant without experiencing the same arousal that had marked his passage into manhood when one of the nurses, a bold-eyed, loud-mouthed trollop had taken him into her bed, whipped up her skirts and placed his hand on her hairy mound. She had displayed her pink slit and shown him how to rub her nubbin until she came, bedewing his fingers with her pungent juice. Then she massaged his budding cock till it stood firm, and slowly lowered herself onto it. He would never forget the sensation of slipping into her musky depths, his dick caressed as if by a velvet glove as she bounced up and down until he spent, shooting his load into her, once, twice, thrice. He had been masturbating for years, but she took his virginity, and he had never looked back.
   The memory sent a surge of lust into his balls and made his prick rigid as a spear. With a low growl he ordered Dulcie to raise her skirts and take off her drawers, then lie facedown over a side-table. 'My God,' Mervin breathed, consumed with that driving urge that filled him as he stared at her firm haunches. 'I've never seen a lass so well designed for whip, cane or strap.'
   She stretched over the table, clinging to its far side, her legs taut and wide apart. Her buttocks, though fleshy, were open and her plump purse, framed in crisp ginger curls, was exposed between the tops of her thighs. These were sturdy and bare, her black stockings reaching to just above the knee where they were kept in place with garters. Her feet in scuffed shoes were planted firmly on the floor. Mervin took his fill of the sight, then opened his breeches and freed the rampant serpent within. He moved into the harbour of her bottom crease and taking his tool in hand, rubbing the swollen helm along her cleft, dampening it with her dew, then easing it into her vagina.
   'Oh, sir... you won't get me with child, will you?' she begged, face turned to one side, cheek resting on the unrelenting wood. 'I shall lose my job. My parents will kick me out. I shall be homeless, with nothing for me and my bairn.'
   'Shut up, you silly tart!' he exclaimed, and dragged his cock from her, lubricated her anal opening with the moisture at its tip and then pushed forcefully so that it disappeared within her dark and forbidden place, inch by painful inch. 'Have I not always been careful? Though why I bother, I don't know.'
   'Oh... ow... ooh,' Dulcie moaned, but spread her legs wider and arched her pelvis towards this invasion.
   Mervin withdrew abruptly, his cock ramrod stiff. If he shot his load into Dulcie now he would only obtain half the pleasure. There were things he intended to do to her first, stoking his fire so that when he did finally obtain release it would be as explosive as the top blowing off a volcano.
   But what an arse the girl had! He resolved to have her perform at one of his orgies. And as for her opulent breasts! He almost changed his mind as to his method of taking her that day, visualising forming those enormous tits into a channel wherein he might plunge his cock, pushing it in and out, her fleshy bosom encompassing it, till he poured his libation all over her in milky jets.
   Resisting temptation, he unhooked a broad leather strap from the bedpost, wound it round his fist and brought it down with a whistling sound, printing a crimson stripe on her quivering hindquarters. Dulcie yelped and wriggled, then jerked as the strap fell again an inch or so above the first welt. Six more times it left its mark on those vast white globes that were now adorned with a crisscross pattern of scarlet embroidery that wrapped themselves round those generous curves.
   Mervin made no attempt to pleasure the girl, though the wetness glimmering at the hairy lips bulging between her thighs betrayed her eagerness to be brought to climax. It might have amused him to do so, but not today. His mood was one of utter selfishness and no one would be considered, not even his sister, leave alone a servant.
   'Mercy, master,' Dulcie sobbed as the leather bit home again.
   It was the plea in her voice that finally roused him to a pitch where he could no longer restrain himself. He flung the strap aside, positioned himself, and propelled his cock into her nether hole. She screeched as he pushed in deeper, till his pubic hair pressed against her crack. This was bliss; she was tight there for he had only arse-fucked her once before and she had a virgin orifice then.
   Mervin closed his eyes as the extreme pleasure mounted. He rocked against Dulcie, his cock buried in her deepest, darkest, most private place, and she expanded to take him. He was coming, the feeling rushing through him with the force of a tidal wave. He was there! Coming in spurts, the heat, the wonderful sensation lifting him to the heights.
   It lasted a second, no more, and when it was over Mervin withdrew from the girl's anus, already sated and disgusted and disillusioned, as he always was after fucking. His palate was jaded. There was nothing new under the sun. He'd enjoyed servants and whores and unfaithful wives of his social set who sought a diversion.
   The companion for Millicent. As he wiped his cock and buttoned up his breeches, he thought about this. Perhaps she would prove to be not only good for his sister, but for him also - a new member of his harem whom he could control, bully and use to satisfy his ungovernable lust.

Average Rating (1 Review):  
Write a Review and share your opinions!

Rating:  
A well-written, entertaining romp
Tuesday, 12 January 2010  | 

Roxane Beaufort is an expert in the M/F erotic flagellation genre. She writes in an easy style, with credible plots and characters, and her descriptions of these characters as they progress through various 'no-holes-barred' activities are both direct and highly stimulating. Submission mostly involves powerful males applying rods and straps to the usual plump regions of their victims. This is usually as a warm-up to more usual activity. This book is a fine example of her craft. It concerns the conversion of a hapless orphan girl to a libidinous hedonist, progressing from a disciplined clerical household to be companion to the frustrated sister of a highly active dominant member of the peerage. Her conventional virginity lasts surprisingly long, taken eventually by a man of her choice, even if this man proves soon to be wilder in his tastes than she'd first thought. Time spent at an unconventional 'health farm', where the staff have definitely ulterior motives, figures prominently. Much of the interest involves the minor characters, including the peer's sister's maid. An excellent addition to the genre from Chimera Books.


Customers who bought this item also bought: