Fascinated

'It is the most important thing in the world to me, Robert,' she told him.

'Why?' he queried her, curious.

'You have played the role of The Master for the Devil's Disciples for several years now,' she began. 'You have said I am to be your last pupil no matter the consequences. I believe that indicates that you have a conscience of sorts, sir. You know what you have done is wrong. The rich and the powerful have no God-given rights to abuse the poor and the helpless. Not that that has ever stopped them, nor will it, I suspect, in years to come. If you can save me from the lustful desires of my three suitors tomorrow night, even if you cannot, I shall give them a public set-down in London such as they cannot imagine. Would you not like to be there for that, Robert? Is it not a fitting and a just end to your career as The Master?'

'They will find another man to play The Master,' he said.

'Perhaps, but perhaps not. I intend using my brother, the good Bishop of Wellington, to dismantle the Devil's Disciples. If he does not, I shall expose him and his cronies to the

Archbishop of Canterbury, even if it means revealing my own shame. The Devil's Disciples shall abuse no more young women!' she finished firmly.

He burst out laughing, and then he kissed her soundly. 'Lucinda, my pet, you swore to me that I should not master you, and by God, I have not! I cannot tell you how happy that makes me.' Then he kissed her again, tumbling her onto her back with a chuckle. 'I want to fuck you, my adorable little firebrand. Would you like that? A final fuck before I must send you back to London?'

'Come here to me, my wonderful master,' Lucinda purred at him, drawing him down into the circle of her arms. 'Ohh yes! That is very, very nice,' she encouraged him as his lips and his tongue hungrily mouthed her lips, her straining throat, her breasts.

He suckled upon her nipples. He could almost taste sweetness from the hardened little nubs atop the soft mounds of her bosom. His lips moved down her torso, kissing, licking, nipping teasingly. She murmured encouragement to him. He nuzzled the wonderful dark, curly bush of curls atop her plump mound, sliding his long body down and between her milky white thighs. Her nether lips were already moist, a tiny pearl of silvery cum seeping from between them. He opened her tenderly and looked upon the rosy coral flesh for the first time. He had never used her in this fashion, for this was a lover's privilege, not a master's. Her little clit stood at attention, almost throbbing before his eyes. Bending forward, he began to lick it hungrily, then suck upon it.

Lucinda cried out with undisguised pleasure. Her fingers tangled themselves into his thick dark hair, kneading at his scalp desperately. 'Oh, God, yes!' she sobbed. 'Yes!' She felt his teeth gently grazing her, and she shuddered with delight.

Finally he could bear no more of their love play. Her nails were digging into his shoulders indicating her need, and his need was every bit as great. He pulled himself up and, slipping between her open legs, thrust his cock deep into her hot, wet love sheath, smiling as she sighed deeply beneath him. Slowly at first, and then more quickly he pistoned her, and Lucinda scored his back with her nails in her passion. Her teeth sank into his shoulder.

He was hard. His great cock probed deeply into her soft, yielding flesh. She sobbed with her need for him. This couldn't be the last time. It couldn't be. She wouldn't let it! She tightened herself around him as if she could never let him go. He groaned, and she wrapped her legs about his torso, sobbing. She was going to be the best fuck he had ever had, and when her revenge was complete, she would marry him. And he would want her! Then they came together in a blinding explosion of sensual delight that left them both half-conscious for several minutes afterward. / love you, Lucinda whispered in her heart, not knowing that he was silently whispering the same words to himself as his arms tightened about her comfortingly, and they slept.

When Lucinda awoke he was gone. The pillow where his head had rested was cold, but upon it lay a perfect white rose. She picked it up and smelled its heady fragrance, a smile upon her lips as she remembered their passion the night before. Now, however, it was morning. This night she would face her persecutors. Whatever happened, she would still triumph over them, but she hoped with all of her heart that she could be saved from their lust, which would be like a night jar washing over her and befouling her. But if he could not dissuade those three buffoons, they would live to regret their actions. That, Lucinda promised herself.

'Master says you are to have a nice bath, and then he has picked out the garments you will wear tonight,' Polly told her mistress. 'Ohh, just think, m'lady. Tomorrow we'll be on our way back to London!'

'Yes,' Lucinda replied, 'but you'll not be long there, Poll. You'll return to the country by Christmas and be in your new home.'

'I won't mind,' Polly responded, 'but it will be nice to see old Londontown a final time. I'm used to the country, m'lady, and now I've got me John. It's the quiet life for us both.'

She took a long, leisurely bath, and Polly washed her hair. Lucinda was very surprised by the garments she found he had chosen. There was a delicate cambric chemise edged in lace on the sleeves over which she wore a small corset of flowered white silk that Polly laced up the back. Next came a silk petticoat, then a hooped underskirt support of bent wood. Over it was a quilted satin underskirt, cream with lavender flowers. Lucinda's gown, its skirts looped up on either side to show the underskirt, was embroidered lavender silk. It had a deep, round scooped neckline allowing her breasts to swell slightly over the top, pushed up by her corset. The sleeves were tight to the elbow, and then a waterfall of creamy lace called en-gageants fell almost to her wrists below the sleeves. Her provocative neckline was edged in lace as well. Three bows adorned her pleated bodice, and there was a matching bow on each sleeve just above the engageants. She wore low-heeled slippers of cream silk on her feet and cream-colored silk stockings with rose garters. Her chestnut hair was piled high with several ringlets that tumbled down reaching her shoulders. Polly dressed it with fresh flowers. Pearl earbobs were fastened into her ears, and a filigreed gold cross on a chain was fastened about her slender neck.

Lucinda looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedchamber. 'I look like the respectable lady I am,' she said, and then she turned to The Master, who had just entered the room. 'Why? Should I not be half-naked, or in something diaphanous meant to titillate?'

'No,' he told her. 'Not if my plan is meant to succeed, my pet. Tonight you must look and act the perfect lady. Now, remember to immediately obey every order I give you so it may seem as if you are properly mastered.'

'What if your plan doesn't succeed?' she asked a final time.

'Then, my pet, you will find yourself stripped naked and bent over the Maiden Tamer so your suitors may have at you,' he replied harshly. 'So play your part well, Lucinda, that we may triumph over the Devil's Disciples this night.' He took her hand up and kissed it. 'One more thing, my pet. Polly, the patches, please.' The maid handed him a small open box, and The Master extracted two black, heart-shaped patches which Polly dabbed with glue. The first he affixed to her left cheekbone. The second he put upon the swell of her right breast. 'There, my pet, now you are ready,' he said with a small smile.

He led her from the house, through the garden and the orchard, reversing their journey the first night she had come here. There was no long summer twilight for it was mid-September. Above them the full moon shone brightly, silvering the landscape around them. The little amphitheater was bright with flickering torches; its stands filled again with gentlemen in their dark, hooded cloaks. The Master wore his tight, dark breeches, his cock hanging boldly out, his white cambric shirt opened at the neck. As he led Lucinda forward, there was a gasp of surprise from his audience.

The Master bowed to them, and then said, 'My lords, I present to you tonight, Lady Lucinda Harrington, well- mastered now, and as tamed as any good house kitten should be. Make your curtsey to the Devil's Disciples, my pet.'

Lucinda curtsied low, her head bent slightly, but not so low that the gentlemen were denied a tantalizing view of her full breasts. She swallowed a giggle as many of them leaned forward eagerly to view the creamy swell of flesh with its shadowed dark valley. Their hot eyes seemed to be drawn to the little heart patch.

'We will begin, my lords, when you have put your hoods back,' The Master announced.

Lucinda kept her face impassive as the hoods were flung back, and the faces, most of them familiar, were revealed. There was her brother, George, the saintly bishop, in the front row next to her three suitors. Oh, George would suffer for his perfidy, Lucinda thought, as eyes lowered, she considered her revenge.

'Why is she not naked?' the Duke of Rexford demanded.

'Aye, and where is the Maiden Tamer?' Lord Bertram called out.