Sir Thomas’s Bride_Masterful Husbands_Book One, page 14
Thomas looked sternly from one lady to the other. "We feel a little humiliation might help you both remember not to humiliate yourselves again in public and so we are going to punish you together here and now. You are to be gingered up and then soundly spanked in full view of one another."
"We trust that after this correction today, a salient lesson will have been learnt by you both on how a lady conducts herself in public. You will both now turn and kneel up and over the back of the settee." Mortimer twirled his finger at them indicating they should turn about as he commanded.
Margaret gasped and her eyes met Rose's wide green eyed stare. There was no hope of a parsnip rescue this time around. However, because they had shared the ignoble removal of ginger and the subsequent embarrassing insertion of the parsnips, the humiliation factor of being punished together was quite minimal. That was until their skirts and petticoats were lifted and each woman realised that her friend's husband would see her totally naked bottom.
Thomas and Benedict saw the very moment that thought dawned upon their wives. It was signalled by equal expressions of an embarrassed horror which flooded their faces a matching scarlet. They were each bent over the settee back revealing their naked rear end to male scrutiny.
Rose was brave or perhaps daft enough, to speak of her disgust at this treatment but Margaret remained silent, for she knew that no amount of complaining deterred Thomas once his mind was made up to punish her. Rose received a couple of hard slaps on her naked behind for her trouble and Margaret winced as Rose squealed, feeling a deep sympathy for her friend.
There was a clinking of china and then Margaret felt her husband's warm hands on her backside, separating her bottom cheeks. She groaned as he filled her private hole with the horrible stinging ginger root, she groaned again when she thought of Mortimer bearing witness to her awful humiliation. Rose was scolding her husband furiously, demanding that he not do this heinous thing! Margaret swore an oath sotto voce as the burn began to build inside her and a sharp slap on her derriere elicited a squawk from her. Then hands lifted and moved her and she found herself upside down over Thomas's unforgiving thigh, she faced Rose, who was in the same position, laid over her own husband's lap.
Margaret reached out both her hands to Rose and Rose quickly clasped both of hers. They gazed into one another eyes and witnessed the shock each of them felt as the first smack of their spanking landed. To be spanked on a bare bottom was painful enough but when each smack lit up the inside of your bottom too, well it was diabolical. Soon both ladies were weeping, bucking and kicking, their hands gripping one another so painfully, that they had to release their hold.
The gentlemen found this method of punishment rather an enjoyable social experience. Mortimer grinned devilishly at Thomas, while Thomas winked back at his old friend. It was exciting seeing his friend spank his pretty wife and he openly admired his blushing handiwork. Rose Mortimer had a heart shaped bottom that was by now a delicious cerise pink. Thomas noticed that Mortimer was studying Margaret's more rounded behind, which was a much darker shade of pink than Rose's especially where his hand mark's bloomed. Thomas noted Benedict redouble his efforts to bring further colour to his wife's pink skin. He most certainly couldn't have that and he spanked her harder still. Male competitiveness meant the ladies were in for a long and painful session laid across their husbands' knees.
Beneath them, their lady wives wept and squirmed but to no avail. This lesson was being delivered with no quarter given and now that the gentlemen were in competition over who could produce the reddest arse, it was certain the ladies would not be sitting comfortably for the foreseeable future.
They lectured their wives simultaneously, each man pointing out at frequent intervals that through their deplorable behaviour, they had bought this spanking upon themselves.
Margaret, who generally enjoyed the feeling of helplessness while being suspended over Thomas's knee as he spanked her, was not enjoying this particular session one little bit, the difference being the added heat from the ginger. It itched and stung inside her bottom and she shed tears of genuine remorse, especially, since she had already sworn off ever drinking cider again when she awoke feeling so dreadfully unwell that morning. This spanking was quite the worst Thomas had ever given her and that included some of the previous canings she had received by his hand.
When the spankings were finally at an end, the women were instructed to stand in two corners across the room from one another, with their dresses tucked up into their waists baring their almost luminous scarlet behinds. Thomas had placed Margaret's hands atop her head and Benedict followed suit and put Rose's hands upon her head too.
Both gentlemen were quite obviously sporting hardened cockstands but chose as gentleman to ignore the other's condition. They waited awhile, allowing nature to take its course, as they discussed the weather, horses and cricket, then finally Thomas felt they were decent enough to be seen by a servant and pulled the bell rope ordering coffee to be brought in. Johnson, the butler, kept his eyes focused on his task of serving the gentlemen their coffee and ignored the shocking picture that his mistress and her friend presented, with their bare, crimson arses on open display. Johnson now held Sir Thomas in higher estimation after he had witnessed their ladyships' deplorable behaviour from an upstairs window on the previous day. To say he was shaken was putting it mildly; never had he witnessed two high born ladies in such an inebriated and unruly condition.
The men drank their coffee and continued discussing horse flesh and cricket for at least half an hour. The sniffles from the two corners of the room were increasing, as were the jiggling dance steps which indicated the ginger had more than done its work.
Thomas finally called Margaret over to him and pointed to the floor. She knelt obediently and kept her eyes lowered.
"I hope that this punishment will have the desired effect on your future behaviour because I warn you now, should there be a repeat of this type of flagrant disregard for civilised demeanour, you will remain gingered for at least two whole days and will be spanked soundly almost hourly."
"I am sorry, Thomas, and I assure you it shall never happen again."
"Good, I should think not! Now bend over and I will remove the ginger root from your arse."
Blushing furiously over her husband's verbal crudeness, quite apart from the shaming act of the actual extraction, Margaret did as he asked. She felt a huge sense of relief at the removal of the hated root but was embarrassed that Benedict Mortimer had witnessed her humiliation. Indeed, she noticed that he watched with avid interest as Thomas pulled the flange of ginger from her bottom hole and placed it back into the same china dish the nasty thing had arrived in.
Thomas then let down her skirts and led her out from the room, closing the door tight behind him. She was escorted to their chamber, ordered to strip and await his return. Margaret stood before her dressing table and peered over her shoulder at her glowing red bottom. It was as crimson as she had ever seen it and she shivered as a familiar wet heat spread from her tender arse to her dampening quim. She couldn't help it; she had to touch herself there, a few strokes of her fingers and she would spend, she knew it. She heard the scrunch of wheels on gravel and quickly went to peer from the window. The Mortimer's coach was leaving and she hadn't even said a proper goodbye to poor Rose.
The door opened again and Thomas reappeared. "You will see Rose at the next cricket match of the season and your behaviour on that occasion shall be nothing but exemplary, is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Margaret whispered. She felt vulnerable, exposed and decidedly thrilled, standing without a stitch on, naked before her husband. All these emotions she felt at the same moment and the culmination of the three? White, hot, lust.
"Come here to me." His voice was husky and sent butterflies to her stomach as she moved across the room and stood before him.
Thomas ran the back of his knuckles down the side of her cheek, then under her chin, whereupon he tipped her head back and lowered his mouth to cover hers, his tongue possessed her mouth and she moaned against his hot mouth. A hand slipped betwixt their bodies and his fingers probed her sex with gentle insistence, she knew he would find her slippery with need. As his finger followed the thrusts of his tongue Margaret's hips thrust forward to meet his questing hand.
He gave a gravelly chuckle and set her aside to undo his fall, releasing his swollen member and without awaiting instruction, Margaret dropped to her knees and took his pego in her hand, guiding it into her mouth. Her tongue swirled and lapped at the silken head of his hardened flesh. She wanted to show him her love and submission with this act of loving atonement. Margaret could tell how much pleasure she was giving her husband by the guttural groans and sighs he gave but nevertheless after a few moments he pulled her upright and bent his head to her breasts.
He suckled and teased the hardened buds of her nipples until she felt she would ignite. Finally, he turned her about and bent her over the bed end and for one anxious moment she thought he was about to re-spank her scalding bottom but then she felt the demanding head of his shaft press home into her slick channel and parted her legs further, aiding his entrance.
The feel of his thick smooth member, gliding inside her, while his lower abdomen pressed against her punished flesh was a torment of delight and when he began his husbandly onslaught, Margaret cried his name and entreated him for more. She need not have worried. Thomas fully intended to give her more, so much more. He pounded and thrust, dominating her sexually as man was designed to do, his cock filling her, taking her, branding her as his woman.
Margaret was so overcome with the long and blissful culmination her husband gave her that she barely managed a gasp and merely whimpered her powerful shuddering release. Thomas on the other hand, bellowed aloud as his seed burst forth, giving him such a rush of pleasure that it seemed to go on forever.
Thomas tucked his drowsy wife under the bedcovers and promised to awaken her with a tray of luncheon later on in the day. His lip twitched with amusement as she shifted immediately onto her side, hissing as her bottom touched the mattress. Margaret was exhausted and still very hung over, she needed to sleep. Thomas kissed her forehead and pulled closed the curtains, shutting out the light and then left her to rest. He almost sprung down the steps of the staircase. Once again his darling Margaret had afforded him no end of amusement, even though he had indeed meant the lesson he had meted out to her today to be one she would remember for some years to come.
Chapter 25
The following week, Thomas received two separate letters from London. He opened the one that bore the King's seal first. It seemed that he was commanded to stand before the King. No other explanation was given. The second letter was from his man of business, he also urged Sir Thomas to come to London and hear what he had to say. Margaret was in the garden cutting flowers for the house and so he joined her out there, watching with pleasure as she moved gracefully about the garden cutting roses and other flowering plants, completely unaware of his presence.
Thomas admired his wife's trim figure in her pretty yellow and white sprigged morning gown. She bent to scent a rose and Thomas felt a surge of heat flood his sleeping pego as he admired her rounded hips. There was no time for pleasuring the flesh right now but he promised his demanding member that he would make the most of the long coach journey back into London.
It was decided they should leave the following morn and so the rest of the day was a busy one for the servants, spent pressing clothes, polishing boots and then packing them into trunks. Margaret went through her jewellery box, trying to decide what she should and shouldn't take with her for a week or two away. She and her ladies maid went through her gloves and fans matching them up with the gowns they had decided she should take. Then there were her reticules and hair accessories to decide upon, not to mention her unmentionables, nightgowns etc. The list, it seemed endless, but somehow finally, everything was stowed away and ready to go.
Cook packed them a huge travelling picnic basket full of cold cooked meat pies, pasties, and cheeses. She'd included hard boiled quail eggs, for Thomas alone as Margaret disliked them. There was also a mix of assorted breads and pickles for them to eat whilst travelling.
Thomas intended to make use of the long light evenings and make this journey with no overnight stop as they had done in the spring, when the evenings were darker. Cushions and rugs were placed inside the carriage for the travellers' comfort and jars of light ale and flavoured milk were placed into a lead cool box and stowed under a carriage seat. Margaret was actually rather excited about this unexpected adventure. She looked forward to being enclosed in private with Thomas, for apart from the coachman and an armed groom, they would travel with no other servant. There would of course, be plenty of help once they arrived at their London house.
She had selected a couple of books to take with her and pictured herself reading snippets of poetry, written by the up and coming young poet William Blake, to Thomas as they journeyed. Margaret's vision of their excursion differed somewhat drastically to that of her husband's. Thomas had plans for his wife on this trip and reading poetry was most certainly not included!
They set off not long after dawn on a sunny morning in early July. The weather was warm but not humid, perfect weather for their trip into London.
At first they chattered about Longetlestone, gossiping unashamedly about their tenants and then about their house servants. Talk moved onto Merriton and then onto their various friends. Thomas talked of horses, racing at Ascot and he expounded at length on cricket strategy. That was until he noticed Margaret had nodded off to sleep during his summary of the previous match played. He tucked a cushion gently under Margaret's head and lifted her feet up onto the seat, carefully removing her silk shoes so that he did not wake her.
When she awoke, they broke their fast with tasty breakfast sausage pasties, washed down with chocolate flavoured milk. Then Margaret took up her poetry book and read snippets aloud to her husband, until she noticed that he, in turn, had nodded off. His head rested on a cushion positioned comfortably against the window.
Thomas awoke refreshed and achingly rampant; a certain part of his anatomy would not be denied. He stretched and yawned eyeing his wife's pretty décolletage. Her lightly sprigged pink gown was edged with cotton lace showing the swell of her bosom to best advantage. Thomas patted the seat next to him.
"Come, Bee and sit beside me," he suggested. Margaret did as he bid and at once he was kissing her neck and quickly devouring the buoyant flesh of her exposed cleavage.
"Thomas, no, tis not at all seemly to behave so in a carriage, a passer-by might see us!" She pushed him off, scandalised.
"Come, Margaret, you are my wife and I do not care if some 'bumpkin' should see me nuzzle my wife," he said, scooping an arm about her middle and shifting her up into his lap. She wriggled indignantly, delighting Thomas's rampant rod with her soft feminine squirming.
His hands were everywhere and Margaret felt as though she was under attack from a vast sea creature she once saw drawn in a book; it had been called an octopus. As fast as he pushed up her skirts, she pushed them down again and then he was pulling her dress front down to pop out her bosom and she would pull the material back up to make herself decent again.
This game progressed until Thomas became determined to have his wicked way with her. He knelt on the floor and pushed her knees apart and immediately they parted, his head thrust forward betwixt her thighs. Margaret squealed but hushed herself hastily, putting her hands over her own mouth remembering the two servants atop the coach. Thomas grinned but continued to push his wicked way to her centre. She was musky with her own womanly scent, overlaid with that of flowery vanilla, from her soap perhaps. His nose nuzzled her quim lips and his tongue licked up the cleft to her sweetly, hardened clitty. She gasped and grabbed handfuls of his hair tugging it wildly. Thomas went to work and the only sound in the carriage was the rasp of his tongue and the soft gasps of delight his act elicited from Margaret.
When Thomas surfaced, his wife made no attempt to close her knees. Thomas's eyes twinkled as he took in her vacant, lust filled stare. She was ripe for the picking. He recognised that look. His hand teased her opening and soon the wet, succulent sounds were solely from his wife's own excited cunny made by her abundant female nectar. Thomas unbuttoned his fall and released his aching member. He pulled Margaret around, her hands placed upon the seat and he stood behind her positioning his pego at her entrance. He plunged and withdrew and once again plunged but then the coach lurched and they both ended up sideways, no longer conjoined.
Thomas seated himself and pulled Margaret to face him, urging her to straddle his thighs, her knees upon the seat either side of his lap. He held her dress and petticoat skirts aside and she placed her hands upon his shoulders ready to lower herself onto his cock. Thomas held her waist and pushed her down onto him.
"Tally-ho, ride me, girl!" He lifted her rounded breasts, weighing and kneading them guiding the prize buds to his mouth, where upon he nipped the tempting buds and suckled them until Margaret no longer cared if she made a noise.
Riding on the driver's seat outside the two men glanced knowingly at one another as loud moans and groans emitted from inside the carriage. A rhythmic pounding that became more and more frenetic as the cries grew in volume had both men hardening in their breeches. Studiously each avoided the other's gaze.
They stopped for luncheon and ate outside in the entrance to a meadow. Thomas spread rugs and cushions, while Margaret removed the food from the hamper. Thomas took food across to the driver and groom and they ate their meal a little way off from their employers, affording them respectful privacy but also too embarrassed to look Lady Margaret in the eye.
