The Baron’s Bride by Imelda Stark
Lady Blaise Fortescu was born with a confusing mixture of good and ill fortune. On one hand, she’s blessed by birth into English rural aristocracy, as well as being endowed with striking good looks and a keen mind. On the other, she occupies a time in history when the lot of even the most privileged females is ruthless subordination to the wills and whims of the men in charge of them. And as the most mixed of blessings, our heroine is imbued with a fiesty, rebellious spirit that proves to be irrepressible even in the face of rather painful consequences. For in the last half of the 18th century, corporal punishment is universally accepted as the proper response to any lack of obedience for females of all aes and classes. Thus, the lovely blonde finds herself subjected to almost daily spankings from earliest memory, though she continues her rebellion by never crying out during her punishments no matter how long and hard they are.
Such a troublesome girl might have trouble finding a proper husband, since the word got around about such shortcomings in the social circles of the countryside upper class. However, the most eligible local bachelor, the darkly handsome Baron Trevor, has his own peculiarities in this particular dark realm of erotic pastimes. Ruthless punishment at the hands of his heartless Mother has left him with a peculiar infirmity. It seems he can only perform sexually with a woman he has just spanked. The thought of a bride who is clearly in need of just such attentions to her very attractive backside seems like the answer to his predicament. But will a gorgeous spirited woman half his age hate him for his perverse needs, or can they find a different sort of romance that satisfies all of their complex requirements? The answers to these questions emerge in a series of exceedingly hot scenes starting from their wedding night. Their saga contains a great deal of male domination and female submission, most often willing, and includes anal play and breast punishment as well as a dollop of female domination.
|# of Pages||188|
|Artist Credit||Iancu Cristian - Shutterstock.com|
Soon, the lamp was lit, the stable doors barred, and the windows shuttered so that no one in the sleepy manor would disturb the excited couple. Then the powerfully muscled older man instructed, “You are to bend over the saddle horse, Mademoiselle, much as you have had your charges position themselves for exactly the same purpose for many years. As you are a grown woman, I will be tying your hands and eventually your feet so you will not be tempted to interfere with all that is to transpire between us. This will absolve you of any guilt or responsibility for any of what I will be doing to you as well, so your soul will not only be cleansed of sin by your spankings, but will not accumulate further penance for what will transpire after you’ve been properly punished. After all, what God would hold a woman responsible for things that happened to her when she was bound and helpless in the hands of a wild brute like myself?”
The Governess, her sallow complexion now wildly flushing in her excitement over the prospect of getting exactly what she had hoped for, exchanged a naughty grin with her ironically smiling companion. She had long suspected he knew exactly what to do with a wicked woman like she knew herself to be. At last her furtive self-pleasurings in the night seemed likely to be supplemented by just the sorts of activities she fantasized while touching herself between her legs every evening after her prayers.
Soames took each of Mademoiselles wrists in hand and guided her gently but firmly to stand with the front of her dress pressed against the well-polished wooden crosspiece of the saddle horse. He noticed with some ill-concealed delight that his subject was trembling slightly, and murmured, “There, there, naughty young woman, I know the prospect of receiving a long-overdue spanking can be a bit frightening. Do not despair; I’ve watched you delivering the very same treatment to that rebellious blonde imp on many occasions, and it will be no worse for you than it is for her. And unlike your student, you can comfort yourself in your momentary emergency that a pleasurable reward lies ahead once you’ve taken your dose of bitter medicine!”
This thought indeed was quite inspiring to the frustrated old maid teacher, who had lusted after the craggy Horse Master for many years. So she voiced nothing but gratitude as he helped her to bend forward and crouched to gently but firmly tie each of her wrists to the bottom of the corresponding leg of the horse. Then the time came for him to bid her goodbye with a comforting pat on her coarse black hair and step around behind her to confront the object of his focus for the next very long and challenging while.
First to come was that delicious moment in which the voluminous skirts and petits-coats worn by all well-bred women of that era were raised and tossed over the jackknifed body of the trembling Frenchwoman. This isolated her in a multi-layered cone of fabric, adding to her sense that all of the intense experiences about to happen to the intimate places below her waist were strangely dissociated from her lively mind. She felt a strange liberation, that no one including her save for the handsome Horse Master could see the parts of her about to be exposed, let alone the lively reactions they were quite likely to have to their coming travails. Even her impending involuntary cries, either of pain or pleasure (actually, she rather hoped, both), would be so muffled by the layers of thick cloth that only her punisher could possibly hear them.
And then Mademoiselle felt his nimble hands undo the ribbon securing her pantalets above the spacious derriere that flared so brazenly from her stylishly narrow waist. Then she sensed with an equal mixture of excitement and trepidation the slow, sensuous slide of the muslin undergarment over her buttocks and down her slender thighs. She wondered with a rather professional interest whether as she did with her students he would leave them to secure her knees to prevent her from kicking too much during her spanking. But it seemed the rugged older man had other plans to accomplish that purpose, ones that far exceeded what would have been proper in the classroom. For once he had guided her ankles out of the discarded smallclothes, she involuntarily moaned as each of her legs was guided firmly outward just as her wrists had been. It was then secured by a soft cord around its ankle to the rear legs of the saddle horse. She had never been so shamelessly splayed to be punished, and this fact excited her enormously.
Soames sighed in satisfaction as he surveyed the fruits of his labors. Arrayed in helpless splendor before his greedy eyes was as perfect a rear end as he could have imagined. It appeared the mousy schoolmistress’ chaste attire concealed the body of a top-drawer courtesan. Her waspishly trim waist blossomed out into two perfectly hemispheric ivory moons whose voluptuous contours were undimpled even by their owner’s fruitless efforts to clench them together to conceal the secret places usually hidden in their deep cleavage. The thighs below them were also pale and smooth, and the voluminously dark-furred pussy between them was shamelessly opened up for his perusal like a ripe fig. Its owner’s true opinion as to the desirability of the impending proceedings was revealed with equal mortifying frankness, as the parted inner lips glistened with the liquors of their owner’s fierce arousal. The Horse Master knew without doubt that his ministrations were to be visited upon an enthusiastically willing subject, and he was glad.
But shame was integral to the proceedings, and so the bent and bared and bound and splayed Governess would need to be taunted as her lower half was prepared for its impending experiences. “My goodness, look what we have here! A perfectly spankable pair of buttocks with a very naughty place between them that leaves no secrets of its mistress’ true feelings about her circumstance! If I didn’t know better about the dignity of such an educated woman, I’d suspect that she was as excited to be punished and plundered as the lustiest courtesan in London!”
Mademoiselle moaned in her inverted cone of fabric as the rough hands of her captor stroked her trembling nether moons. Then she gasped as his fingers shamelessly wandered to her inner thighs as he intoned, “I wonder if she has ever been strapped here? Most schoolmistresses or Nannies restrict their spankings to their miscreants’ buttocks, but especially when I am privileged to punish a grown woman, I find the backs and tender skin of the inner thighs to be an especially effective place to chastise. Has our Governess ever received such attentions?”
The trembling Frenchwoman replied that she had not, and her inquisitor retorted, “How delightful! At least one virginity will be taken tonight. But there are other possibilities in that regard...”
Then his subject moaned louder as his wandering fingers casually found the top of her nether cleavage and teasingly trickled downward towards her most secret of orifices. When he approached this hidden brown rosette, he noted that it was surrounded by a light cluster of dark hairs. His impertinent finger teased these as he tauntingly encircled the contracting delicate tissues and he remarked, “I know the French are noted for their sexual adventurousness...can it be that Mademoiselle has never been taken in this place? I suspect it will be wonderfully tight once her spanking is complete and I plow this tempting rear furrow as my just desserts for hard work on behalf of disciplining such a naughty woman!”