Taming Maria, page 20
'And you have, no doubt, been consorting with trollops,' she answered acidly. 'At least the louts were man enough to satisfy me, which you haven't bothered to do.'
'I want to see you play with yourself,' he said, making no attempt to touch her but, his own lust appeased, watching as she opened her thighs, exposed her slit and stroked her clitoris till she moaned and yelped and brought herself off.
They sat together in the afterglow, and he was prepared to indulge her and let her believe that he cared for her, when in reality it was far from the truth. Damien cared for no one but himself. Even as they sipped sherry wine and chatted lightly, so his mind was already streaking ahead to the evening's events. He was expecting a message from Captain Chesney. If all went according to plan he would be joining him and the rest of the gang at the ruined chapel after dark.
Maria was walking in the garden. She had arranged for Sarah to be with her, but had left her in the summerhouse and slipped away on her own. In her heart she was hoping that Charles might be somewhere about. The heat was going from the sun now and soon it would be autumn. Damien was talking of returning to London soon, and by this she guessed he was expecting his task to be completed before long.
He was a secretive individual and she had not been able to worm any information out of him, but by his preoccupied demeanour she assumed there was more than the mere running of the estate on his mind. Hopefully matters would come to a head for then, if necessary, she would send Tranter to Robin and enlist his aid.
She paused at a stile that led into a meadow, drinking in the sight of the lush green grass, the patient liver and white cows, and the trees that were beginning to shed their leaves. They lay like an amber, rust and yellow carpet on the path. Maria was lost in contemplation, and then became aware that she was not alone. Arms came around her from behind.
She recognised the man who held her. 'What are you doing here?'
Charles turned her to face him and she had never been more pleased to see anyone. 'Keep your voice low, sweetheart,' he cautioned, and then kissed her, the touch of his lips, the feel of his strong body intoxicating her.
He raised his head and looked down at her. 'I had to see you. To know that you were so near and yet so far tormented me and kept me from my duty.'
'Have you any news? When will this be over?'
'Very soon, beloved. Has Strafford divulged anything?'
'No. He is close as a clam, and I'm sure Lady Arabella knows nothing.' Maria's guilt was ruining this encounter. Supposing he had come upon her and Damien when they were coupling in the glade yesterday?
'We are confident that there will be a landing tonight. Our informants have picked up on it. The conditions are right. We shall be waiting.'
'Is there anything I can do to help?' Maria gripped him tightly, the thought of him going into danger terrifying her. 'I have a friend staying at Parnham Combe. You remember Robin Claremont, who we met in London? He came to me with a letter from Jane. I asked him to stay for a day or so in case we needed his help. I could send Tranter to him.'
'There is no need. My men are ready. Just stay safe and don't take any risks, Maria.'
He pressed her back against the stile and she was like putty in his hands, her flesh forgetting Damien and its recent union with him. Though afraid that someone might see them she urged Charles on, her mouth opening under his. He clasped her round the buttocks, pulling her to him, and she wrinkled up her skirt, baring her sex, and then slipped down the front of her bodice. She could feel the roughness of his coat chaffing her nipples and sending shockwaves of delight through her. He freed the hard bough of his cock from the restriction of his breeches and lifted Maria to the first railing where she opened her legs, enabling him to penetrate her.
She wriggled her pubis on the base of his penis, but could not reach completion until he inserted a hand between them and stimulated her nubbin. Grinding against his fingers, she was distracted by their exposure but fell into the rhythm of his regular penetration, her passion rising until she reached an explosive orgasm.
'My sweet girl,' he muttered and increased his thrusts, arriving at fulfilment shortly after her.
Maria was flustered, pushing him away and sliding from her perch, wanting nothing so much as to cover herself. 'I must go. My chaperone will come looking for me.'
He grinned at her, confining his prick in his breeches once more. 'Soon, my love, we shall dispense with a duenna. I want to marry you, Maria. What do you say?'
Her heart leaped, but there was something holding her back and she did not know what. 'How dear of you to ask me,' she said, kissing his smooth-shaven cheek. 'We must talk of this when the danger is over. There is the problem of Damien. He will never give his consent.'
'Damien will not be here, if my plans come to fruition.' Charles's face was stern, and Maria saw another side of him - the soldier and man of action who could be ruthless.
It thrilled her, yet made her afraid. Does one ever really know another human being? she wondered. Aren't there always unplumbed depths? Charles must have killed men during the course of his military career. She had seen him fencing with Damien when both of them wanted to slaughter the other. And yet they could walk, talk and comport themselves as gentlemen. It was a mystery, but looking into her own soul, she admitted that she was capable of avoiding the truth and deceiving; witness her behaviour with Damien and Charles.
His hands on her were tender and he kissed her gently in farewell. 'Keep safe, Maria, and I will contact you when tonight is over. Farewell, beloved.'
Dusk came and the dinner hour passed, with Arabella, Damien and Maria seated formally at table, waited on by a fleet of footmen. When the last course had been served he rose and pushed back his chair. 'Excuse me, ladies, but I have business this evening. My agent needs to discuss the harvest supper with me,' he told them.
'That's too tedious of you, Damien,' Arabella pouted, tossing her napkin aside and reaching for her wine glass. 'What am I supposed to do?'
'I've thought of that, my dear, and have arranged for Squire Longbridge, his lady wife and several friends to drive over and play cards. Does that suit you?'
'Indeed it does. Can you lend me money? Cards are no fun without gambling,' she responded, all smiles again. 'Will you join us, Maria?'
She shook her head. 'I think I'll go to bed early.'
She was highly suspicious of Damien's actions, more and more convinced that he was expecting the boat to arrive in the cove. If she went to her room, knowing that Arabella was fully engaged in gambling, once Sarah was asleep or engaged with a lover, she could go to the chapel and join in the excitement. Charles had forbidden her, but she was unwilling to miss any action, almost deciding to send Tranter to Robin, yet not quite sure if this was a false alarm.
Instead of going upstairs she decided to follow Damien. There was a crowd in the hall, the squire and his friends arriving, all loud voices, laughter and bonhomie. He greeted them warmly, apologizing because he could not stay, and she succeeded in slipping out of the hall and down the stairs to the servants' domain and there reaching the yard. It was filled with those attending to the visitors' carriages and horses. Maria hid behind a stable door. Soon the coachmen and postilions, who were in for a long wait, were invited into the kitchen. It was then that she caught sight of Captain Chesney sneaking through a side gate. A moment later he was joined by Damien.
She stood as if rooted to the spot, straining to hear what they were saying, but their voices were muffled. Then Damien led Chesney towards the stable and she shrank back into the gloom. 'Come inside,' she heard him say. 'Tell me your news.'
They were so close to Maria that she could see the scar that distorted the mercenary's face, and Damien's dark, handsome features illumined by a lantern.
'It's all coming together as sweet as a nut,' Chesney growled. 'We've had word from our fishermen that La Rondine will be anchoring in the cove about ten. There will be a rowing boat ready.'
'Splendid!' Damien clapped him on the shoulder. 'Go back now and I'll follow you. My horse is already saddled and waiting.'
They disappeared into the darkness.
Maria climbed the ladder leading to the rooms above usually occupied by those who cared for the horses, maintained the vehicles and drove their employers from place to place. She found Tranter there in his shirtsleeves. He leapt up on seeing her, reaching for his jacket.
She put a finger to her lips. 'I'm going out, Tranter,' she said. 'If I'm not back by midnight find Mr Claremont at the Blue Boar, say that I need him and then both of you ride to the ruined chapel.'
'But, my lady...' Tranter blurted out.
'Just do as I say, and don't tell Emily. Now saddle my mare.'
Once again she was not suitably attired for riding but could think of no excuse for changing at this late hour. Sarah would be sure to ask questions. As it was there would be a hue and cry once she was missed, and this would happen when her duenna realised she was not with Lady Arabella.
She had grabbed a cloak on the way out and slung it around her shoulders. Tranter gave her a leg up into the saddle. She had decided to ride astride, hitching her skirt high and tucking it between her knees. He was looking anxious, shaking his head at her daring and she smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
'It's all right, Tranter. Just do as I ask.'
She jerked the rein, clicked her tongue and the mare moved off at a walk. Once beyond the boundaries of the house Maria urged her into a trot, mindful that she must keep a safe distance between herself and Damien. A gibbous moon hung in the sky and the pathway was shadowed, but the mare was sure-footed and Maria knew the way. She slowed, listening intently for any sounds ahead, but the only stirrings were those of creatures using the cover of darkness to find food.
So far so good, she thought, hardly daring to believe her luck. She had reached the trail that led to the chapel and realised that she had no plan formulated. What had seemed an adventure became a risky operation. It was all very well wanting to bring Damien to book, but she should have left it to those better equipped to do so. For the first time fear gripped her and she almost turned back.
Then she heard the jingle of harness ahead and curiosity overcame caution. She dismounted and tethered her horse, then moved forward stealthily, wishing she had been able to arm herself. Where was Charles? Could it be that Damien had been misinformed and the fishing boat carrying its illicit cargo delayed? There were so many variables and all she could do was follow her instincts and track the gang.
The chapel's ruined spire pointed to the moon like an accusing finger, but all was dark and still. Maria entered the nave and found the door to the crypt. In was unlocked. She almost turned and ran, but that inquisitive streak that had ever been her bane made her go on. She knew the way down the spiral staircase and caught the murmur of voices, recognising Damien's among them. Then they grew fainter and she guessed they were entering the tomb and descending to the cave, there to greet imports that were as illegal as brandy, silks, tobacco and wine. More so, for the smugglers were performing a traitorous act that threatened their country.
Maria climbed into the tomb and followed the tiny glow coming up from far below. The steps were uneven and it was as if she was descending into a desolate pit of hell. She followed the light like a moth to a flame. The voices grew louder. Concentrating on trying to catch what was being said Maria lost her footing, tripping down the last few steps and landing at the feet of a man who was guarding the entrance to a large cave.
There was an uproar as he dragged her forward, shouting, 'What have we here?'
Immediately Damien grabbed and shook her, his face thunderous. 'Maria! How did you get here?'
'I followed you,' she stammered, saying the first thing that came into her mind.
'Why?'
She had never seen such fury on a man's face. He was capable of killing her!
'I thought you were going to meet a woman.'
The men who had gathered round laughed loudly. 'A jealous little tart, eh?' said Chesney, looking her over lustfully. 'Is she one of your whores, my lord?'
'Never mind who she is,' he retorted, eyes blazing, fingers tightening painfully on her arm. 'She needs to be punished.'
'It won't take us long to teach her a lesson and take our fill of her,' Towser broke in eagerly.
Every man there was scruffy, villainous and ugly. The thought of Damien turning her over to them was abhorrent. Would he do so? He was furious and might well decide she deserved such a fate. There was a split second's silence and in that instant she knew he wanted her for himself.
'First she must be tied up and beaten,' he ordered.
Maria was manhandled, her dress ripped off, her naked body caressed, pinched, nipples and pubis examined. 'Someone's shaved her pussy,' Chesney shouted, lowering his face and licking her slit with a wet, fleshy tongue. 'I want first go at her, boys. Never had a hairless cunt before.'
In the midst of the pain, fear and confusion, Maria caught Damien's eye, and it was he who stretched her out, face-down on the sandy floor, tethered her wrists and spread her legs, attaching the ropes to pegs driven into the rock.
'Stand back!' he ordered his excited men.
They did so, forming a circle around her. Some had already bared their cocks, rubbing them to full erection, anticipating driving into Maria. Chesney's was huge, a great brown monster, curved like a sabre, standing proud from a nest of black curls. It was already bedewed with clear jism and he held it in his hand, licking his lips and grinning at her. Towser took second place, his prick rather less spectacular, and half a dozen other men were egging one another on with crude jests.
Maria was naked, helpless and angry. How dare Damien treat her thus? She was a titled lady and his ward! Did he guess she had been spying on him? Probably, and this was her punishment, this exposure to a gang of ruffians. If, as she feared, he had finished with her, then she would be delivered into their hands to be ravished. The idea made her stomach rise, for they were dirty, smelly and probably disease-ridden. She might become pregnant by one of them!
Damien flexed his riding whip. Maria heard the swish as it raced towards her. She felt the numbness as it landed on her buttocks and the rush of fire that flowed. The men guffawed and massaged their pricks. The whip struck again. Maria started to cry, her pride ground into the dust. Damien was so crafty, never striking the same place twice, making sure stripe was laid next to stripe. She could feel her sense of reality slipping away, the heat from her backside spreading to her cunt, her need for a male member penetrating her growing more urgent with every fresh cut of the lash. She wanted Damien, Charles and, even more shameful, anyone of those disgusting rogues who surrounded her. She was a suffering animal, but one, moreover, who needed to be mated.
She heard the clatter of the whip landing on the rocky floor. The smugglers were quiet now, only their rapid breathing reaching her ears. Then a man spread himself over her, and she clenched her inner muscles, expecting the violence of rape. But her body remembered and her nostrils recognised his smell as she felt the hardness of his cock entering her.
'Damien!' she sobbed, as he battered her furiously, releasing his rage in a far more potent way than with the whip. But this pain was one she welcomed, spearing herself on it, that deep, all-consuming thrusting that took her to the brink without giving her release.
She felt the surge as he discharged into her, and the emptiness as he withdrew. Then the full horror burst upon her as she heard him say, 'Your turn, Chesney.'
Chapter 14
'No!' Maria shouted, the denial coming from the depths of her heart and soul.
The horror was upon her, Chesney's big body knocking the breath from her as she was flattened under him. Her breasts were ground into the rock beneath her. With her face pressed to one side she could see little, but felt the enormous bar of his prick forcing its way into her entrance. She was still slippery from Damien's discharge.
Useless to struggle. She would only get hurt. But she vowed to kill Chesney if and when she got the chance. This insult could never be forgiven and neither would Damien's part in it. She wanted to scream at him to save her, but he was laughing with the others, watching Chesney rape her.
'Maybe the Frenchies would like a go at her,' bellowed Towser. 'What a welcome to England!'
Unable to resist he came forward, and so did the rest. While attempting to clench her buttocks and prevent Chesney's penetration she felt cocks in her bound hands and cocks stroking her back, leaving wet trails, while another was at her mouth.
She was suffocated, outraged, soiled by the men and deeply mortified because Damien was allowing them to besmirch her. She was aware he was watching, gaining satisfaction in seeing her used, and she cried out, 'Damien! Stop them! Please...!'
'Why should I? You've always defied me, and have the temerity to come here. What did you hope to find? Were you seeking to discredit me?'
'Whatever my reason you are my guardian and should protect me. Don't let them ravish me!'
He might have listened to her plea but she was never to know. There was a sudden outcry from the mouth of the cave. Men rushed in, shouting, 'We've been discovered! There's fighting going on out there!'
She was forgotten. Even Chesney left her, covered his cock and joined the rest. She tugged at her bonds and succeeded in yanking out the pegs, able to free her hands, though the ropes remained around her wrists. She found her cloak and huddled within it. Had Charles arrived? What was going on? She looked at her surroundings. A tunnel led from the tomb in the crypt to the cave. It had probably been used by escapees, refugees and smugglers for centuries, but now Damien had it for his own purposes.
Maria went to the entrance, coming out on a shelf set in the cliff. The sea would only reach it at high tide. Below her was a confused scene of men fighting, with a rowing boat half in, half out of the water, where others struggled to apprehend those who were trying to land. A ship was anchored in the bay, its sails filling as the breeze freshened, the helmsman waiting for the turn of the tide.
'I want to see you play with yourself,' he said, making no attempt to touch her but, his own lust appeased, watching as she opened her thighs, exposed her slit and stroked her clitoris till she moaned and yelped and brought herself off.
They sat together in the afterglow, and he was prepared to indulge her and let her believe that he cared for her, when in reality it was far from the truth. Damien cared for no one but himself. Even as they sipped sherry wine and chatted lightly, so his mind was already streaking ahead to the evening's events. He was expecting a message from Captain Chesney. If all went according to plan he would be joining him and the rest of the gang at the ruined chapel after dark.
Maria was walking in the garden. She had arranged for Sarah to be with her, but had left her in the summerhouse and slipped away on her own. In her heart she was hoping that Charles might be somewhere about. The heat was going from the sun now and soon it would be autumn. Damien was talking of returning to London soon, and by this she guessed he was expecting his task to be completed before long.
He was a secretive individual and she had not been able to worm any information out of him, but by his preoccupied demeanour she assumed there was more than the mere running of the estate on his mind. Hopefully matters would come to a head for then, if necessary, she would send Tranter to Robin and enlist his aid.
She paused at a stile that led into a meadow, drinking in the sight of the lush green grass, the patient liver and white cows, and the trees that were beginning to shed their leaves. They lay like an amber, rust and yellow carpet on the path. Maria was lost in contemplation, and then became aware that she was not alone. Arms came around her from behind.
She recognised the man who held her. 'What are you doing here?'
Charles turned her to face him and she had never been more pleased to see anyone. 'Keep your voice low, sweetheart,' he cautioned, and then kissed her, the touch of his lips, the feel of his strong body intoxicating her.
He raised his head and looked down at her. 'I had to see you. To know that you were so near and yet so far tormented me and kept me from my duty.'
'Have you any news? When will this be over?'
'Very soon, beloved. Has Strafford divulged anything?'
'No. He is close as a clam, and I'm sure Lady Arabella knows nothing.' Maria's guilt was ruining this encounter. Supposing he had come upon her and Damien when they were coupling in the glade yesterday?
'We are confident that there will be a landing tonight. Our informants have picked up on it. The conditions are right. We shall be waiting.'
'Is there anything I can do to help?' Maria gripped him tightly, the thought of him going into danger terrifying her. 'I have a friend staying at Parnham Combe. You remember Robin Claremont, who we met in London? He came to me with a letter from Jane. I asked him to stay for a day or so in case we needed his help. I could send Tranter to him.'
'There is no need. My men are ready. Just stay safe and don't take any risks, Maria.'
He pressed her back against the stile and she was like putty in his hands, her flesh forgetting Damien and its recent union with him. Though afraid that someone might see them she urged Charles on, her mouth opening under his. He clasped her round the buttocks, pulling her to him, and she wrinkled up her skirt, baring her sex, and then slipped down the front of her bodice. She could feel the roughness of his coat chaffing her nipples and sending shockwaves of delight through her. He freed the hard bough of his cock from the restriction of his breeches and lifted Maria to the first railing where she opened her legs, enabling him to penetrate her.
She wriggled her pubis on the base of his penis, but could not reach completion until he inserted a hand between them and stimulated her nubbin. Grinding against his fingers, she was distracted by their exposure but fell into the rhythm of his regular penetration, her passion rising until she reached an explosive orgasm.
'My sweet girl,' he muttered and increased his thrusts, arriving at fulfilment shortly after her.
Maria was flustered, pushing him away and sliding from her perch, wanting nothing so much as to cover herself. 'I must go. My chaperone will come looking for me.'
He grinned at her, confining his prick in his breeches once more. 'Soon, my love, we shall dispense with a duenna. I want to marry you, Maria. What do you say?'
Her heart leaped, but there was something holding her back and she did not know what. 'How dear of you to ask me,' she said, kissing his smooth-shaven cheek. 'We must talk of this when the danger is over. There is the problem of Damien. He will never give his consent.'
'Damien will not be here, if my plans come to fruition.' Charles's face was stern, and Maria saw another side of him - the soldier and man of action who could be ruthless.
It thrilled her, yet made her afraid. Does one ever really know another human being? she wondered. Aren't there always unplumbed depths? Charles must have killed men during the course of his military career. She had seen him fencing with Damien when both of them wanted to slaughter the other. And yet they could walk, talk and comport themselves as gentlemen. It was a mystery, but looking into her own soul, she admitted that she was capable of avoiding the truth and deceiving; witness her behaviour with Damien and Charles.
His hands on her were tender and he kissed her gently in farewell. 'Keep safe, Maria, and I will contact you when tonight is over. Farewell, beloved.'
Dusk came and the dinner hour passed, with Arabella, Damien and Maria seated formally at table, waited on by a fleet of footmen. When the last course had been served he rose and pushed back his chair. 'Excuse me, ladies, but I have business this evening. My agent needs to discuss the harvest supper with me,' he told them.
'That's too tedious of you, Damien,' Arabella pouted, tossing her napkin aside and reaching for her wine glass. 'What am I supposed to do?'
'I've thought of that, my dear, and have arranged for Squire Longbridge, his lady wife and several friends to drive over and play cards. Does that suit you?'
'Indeed it does. Can you lend me money? Cards are no fun without gambling,' she responded, all smiles again. 'Will you join us, Maria?'
She shook her head. 'I think I'll go to bed early.'
She was highly suspicious of Damien's actions, more and more convinced that he was expecting the boat to arrive in the cove. If she went to her room, knowing that Arabella was fully engaged in gambling, once Sarah was asleep or engaged with a lover, she could go to the chapel and join in the excitement. Charles had forbidden her, but she was unwilling to miss any action, almost deciding to send Tranter to Robin, yet not quite sure if this was a false alarm.
Instead of going upstairs she decided to follow Damien. There was a crowd in the hall, the squire and his friends arriving, all loud voices, laughter and bonhomie. He greeted them warmly, apologizing because he could not stay, and she succeeded in slipping out of the hall and down the stairs to the servants' domain and there reaching the yard. It was filled with those attending to the visitors' carriages and horses. Maria hid behind a stable door. Soon the coachmen and postilions, who were in for a long wait, were invited into the kitchen. It was then that she caught sight of Captain Chesney sneaking through a side gate. A moment later he was joined by Damien.
She stood as if rooted to the spot, straining to hear what they were saying, but their voices were muffled. Then Damien led Chesney towards the stable and she shrank back into the gloom. 'Come inside,' she heard him say. 'Tell me your news.'
They were so close to Maria that she could see the scar that distorted the mercenary's face, and Damien's dark, handsome features illumined by a lantern.
'It's all coming together as sweet as a nut,' Chesney growled. 'We've had word from our fishermen that La Rondine will be anchoring in the cove about ten. There will be a rowing boat ready.'
'Splendid!' Damien clapped him on the shoulder. 'Go back now and I'll follow you. My horse is already saddled and waiting.'
They disappeared into the darkness.
Maria climbed the ladder leading to the rooms above usually occupied by those who cared for the horses, maintained the vehicles and drove their employers from place to place. She found Tranter there in his shirtsleeves. He leapt up on seeing her, reaching for his jacket.
She put a finger to her lips. 'I'm going out, Tranter,' she said. 'If I'm not back by midnight find Mr Claremont at the Blue Boar, say that I need him and then both of you ride to the ruined chapel.'
'But, my lady...' Tranter blurted out.
'Just do as I say, and don't tell Emily. Now saddle my mare.'
Once again she was not suitably attired for riding but could think of no excuse for changing at this late hour. Sarah would be sure to ask questions. As it was there would be a hue and cry once she was missed, and this would happen when her duenna realised she was not with Lady Arabella.
She had grabbed a cloak on the way out and slung it around her shoulders. Tranter gave her a leg up into the saddle. She had decided to ride astride, hitching her skirt high and tucking it between her knees. He was looking anxious, shaking his head at her daring and she smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
'It's all right, Tranter. Just do as I ask.'
She jerked the rein, clicked her tongue and the mare moved off at a walk. Once beyond the boundaries of the house Maria urged her into a trot, mindful that she must keep a safe distance between herself and Damien. A gibbous moon hung in the sky and the pathway was shadowed, but the mare was sure-footed and Maria knew the way. She slowed, listening intently for any sounds ahead, but the only stirrings were those of creatures using the cover of darkness to find food.
So far so good, she thought, hardly daring to believe her luck. She had reached the trail that led to the chapel and realised that she had no plan formulated. What had seemed an adventure became a risky operation. It was all very well wanting to bring Damien to book, but she should have left it to those better equipped to do so. For the first time fear gripped her and she almost turned back.
Then she heard the jingle of harness ahead and curiosity overcame caution. She dismounted and tethered her horse, then moved forward stealthily, wishing she had been able to arm herself. Where was Charles? Could it be that Damien had been misinformed and the fishing boat carrying its illicit cargo delayed? There were so many variables and all she could do was follow her instincts and track the gang.
The chapel's ruined spire pointed to the moon like an accusing finger, but all was dark and still. Maria entered the nave and found the door to the crypt. In was unlocked. She almost turned and ran, but that inquisitive streak that had ever been her bane made her go on. She knew the way down the spiral staircase and caught the murmur of voices, recognising Damien's among them. Then they grew fainter and she guessed they were entering the tomb and descending to the cave, there to greet imports that were as illegal as brandy, silks, tobacco and wine. More so, for the smugglers were performing a traitorous act that threatened their country.
Maria climbed into the tomb and followed the tiny glow coming up from far below. The steps were uneven and it was as if she was descending into a desolate pit of hell. She followed the light like a moth to a flame. The voices grew louder. Concentrating on trying to catch what was being said Maria lost her footing, tripping down the last few steps and landing at the feet of a man who was guarding the entrance to a large cave.
There was an uproar as he dragged her forward, shouting, 'What have we here?'
Immediately Damien grabbed and shook her, his face thunderous. 'Maria! How did you get here?'
'I followed you,' she stammered, saying the first thing that came into her mind.
'Why?'
She had never seen such fury on a man's face. He was capable of killing her!
'I thought you were going to meet a woman.'
The men who had gathered round laughed loudly. 'A jealous little tart, eh?' said Chesney, looking her over lustfully. 'Is she one of your whores, my lord?'
'Never mind who she is,' he retorted, eyes blazing, fingers tightening painfully on her arm. 'She needs to be punished.'
'It won't take us long to teach her a lesson and take our fill of her,' Towser broke in eagerly.
Every man there was scruffy, villainous and ugly. The thought of Damien turning her over to them was abhorrent. Would he do so? He was furious and might well decide she deserved such a fate. There was a split second's silence and in that instant she knew he wanted her for himself.
'First she must be tied up and beaten,' he ordered.
Maria was manhandled, her dress ripped off, her naked body caressed, pinched, nipples and pubis examined. 'Someone's shaved her pussy,' Chesney shouted, lowering his face and licking her slit with a wet, fleshy tongue. 'I want first go at her, boys. Never had a hairless cunt before.'
In the midst of the pain, fear and confusion, Maria caught Damien's eye, and it was he who stretched her out, face-down on the sandy floor, tethered her wrists and spread her legs, attaching the ropes to pegs driven into the rock.
'Stand back!' he ordered his excited men.
They did so, forming a circle around her. Some had already bared their cocks, rubbing them to full erection, anticipating driving into Maria. Chesney's was huge, a great brown monster, curved like a sabre, standing proud from a nest of black curls. It was already bedewed with clear jism and he held it in his hand, licking his lips and grinning at her. Towser took second place, his prick rather less spectacular, and half a dozen other men were egging one another on with crude jests.
Maria was naked, helpless and angry. How dare Damien treat her thus? She was a titled lady and his ward! Did he guess she had been spying on him? Probably, and this was her punishment, this exposure to a gang of ruffians. If, as she feared, he had finished with her, then she would be delivered into their hands to be ravished. The idea made her stomach rise, for they were dirty, smelly and probably disease-ridden. She might become pregnant by one of them!
Damien flexed his riding whip. Maria heard the swish as it raced towards her. She felt the numbness as it landed on her buttocks and the rush of fire that flowed. The men guffawed and massaged their pricks. The whip struck again. Maria started to cry, her pride ground into the dust. Damien was so crafty, never striking the same place twice, making sure stripe was laid next to stripe. She could feel her sense of reality slipping away, the heat from her backside spreading to her cunt, her need for a male member penetrating her growing more urgent with every fresh cut of the lash. She wanted Damien, Charles and, even more shameful, anyone of those disgusting rogues who surrounded her. She was a suffering animal, but one, moreover, who needed to be mated.
She heard the clatter of the whip landing on the rocky floor. The smugglers were quiet now, only their rapid breathing reaching her ears. Then a man spread himself over her, and she clenched her inner muscles, expecting the violence of rape. But her body remembered and her nostrils recognised his smell as she felt the hardness of his cock entering her.
'Damien!' she sobbed, as he battered her furiously, releasing his rage in a far more potent way than with the whip. But this pain was one she welcomed, spearing herself on it, that deep, all-consuming thrusting that took her to the brink without giving her release.
She felt the surge as he discharged into her, and the emptiness as he withdrew. Then the full horror burst upon her as she heard him say, 'Your turn, Chesney.'
Chapter 14
'No!' Maria shouted, the denial coming from the depths of her heart and soul.
The horror was upon her, Chesney's big body knocking the breath from her as she was flattened under him. Her breasts were ground into the rock beneath her. With her face pressed to one side she could see little, but felt the enormous bar of his prick forcing its way into her entrance. She was still slippery from Damien's discharge.
Useless to struggle. She would only get hurt. But she vowed to kill Chesney if and when she got the chance. This insult could never be forgiven and neither would Damien's part in it. She wanted to scream at him to save her, but he was laughing with the others, watching Chesney rape her.
'Maybe the Frenchies would like a go at her,' bellowed Towser. 'What a welcome to England!'
Unable to resist he came forward, and so did the rest. While attempting to clench her buttocks and prevent Chesney's penetration she felt cocks in her bound hands and cocks stroking her back, leaving wet trails, while another was at her mouth.
She was suffocated, outraged, soiled by the men and deeply mortified because Damien was allowing them to besmirch her. She was aware he was watching, gaining satisfaction in seeing her used, and she cried out, 'Damien! Stop them! Please...!'
'Why should I? You've always defied me, and have the temerity to come here. What did you hope to find? Were you seeking to discredit me?'
'Whatever my reason you are my guardian and should protect me. Don't let them ravish me!'
He might have listened to her plea but she was never to know. There was a sudden outcry from the mouth of the cave. Men rushed in, shouting, 'We've been discovered! There's fighting going on out there!'
She was forgotten. Even Chesney left her, covered his cock and joined the rest. She tugged at her bonds and succeeded in yanking out the pegs, able to free her hands, though the ropes remained around her wrists. She found her cloak and huddled within it. Had Charles arrived? What was going on? She looked at her surroundings. A tunnel led from the tomb in the crypt to the cave. It had probably been used by escapees, refugees and smugglers for centuries, but now Damien had it for his own purposes.
Maria went to the entrance, coming out on a shelf set in the cliff. The sea would only reach it at high tide. Below her was a confused scene of men fighting, with a rowing boat half in, half out of the water, where others struggled to apprehend those who were trying to land. A ship was anchored in the bay, its sails filling as the breeze freshened, the helmsman waiting for the turn of the tide.
