Sir Thomas’s Bride_Masterful Husbands_Book One, page 4
"Good girl. Now then, while I inform you of how our finances are going to run, I wish you to make yourself wet and ready for me." Margaret made a muted, strangled sound.
"I wish to see you put your hand between your legs and explore your cunny and quim. I shall not repeat myself again, my dear, the cane collection is unlocked and awaits my choice, or perhaps I should say your choice?"
Thomas watched gratified as Margaret moved slowly to place her left hand between her thighs. She stared round eyed at him holding his gaze, her expression one of a rabbit, mesmerized by a snake about to strike.
"Play with yourself, darling, I want to hear you, all succulent and deliciously wet."
Obediently Margaret reluctantly pushed her fingers into her soft womanly parts, not quite able to believe she was doing such a deplorably lewd thing in front of her new husband.
Thomas meanwhile sat back behind his solid wooden desk explaining to his wife how much her dress and frippery allowance would be. The pretty picture before him distracted him from the drier aspects of their finances and finally giving in to his baser needs, he grasped his cock and palmed it firmly. He allowed himself the pleasure of watching his most decorous and proper wife sitting opposite him fingering her own silky wet little cunny.
Her sleek toffee coloured hair was combed back and fixed with a Spanish comb. Her pearl ear bobs danced in her sweet, shell like ears, each and every time she moved her head. Her prim navy blue and cream gown was raised high above her creamy thighs and ruffled prettily about her waist.
The sight was so incredibly erotic, Thomas wasn't sure how long he would last and so reluctantly he withdrew his hand from his aching pego. He leaned forward again, all the while watching as Margaret used her own fingers to probe and flick her luscious sex.
"I don't hear any succulent sounds yet, my sweet; frig faster, dearest."
Margaret glared at her husband but, unfazed, he chuckled delightedly. He watched as she obediently pushed her fingers rapidly in and out of her slippery cleft. She was, despite her own disgust, becoming extremely aroused and an involuntary moan escaped her. Surprised, she realised her culmination was very close.
"Remove your hand from your cunny and clasp them together in your lap. Now please, Margaret!"
The sudden snapped command infuriated Margaret; she was so near to that elusive peak that she ignored her husband and continued to frig herself even faster. The noise that Thomas had instructed his wife to produce earlier now filled the room, a wet and succulent sound indeed.
Thomas moved swiftly around the desk and pulled his wife's hand from her body, clasping her damp fingers within his hand. Margaret gasped and then gazed surprised at that which now filled her vision. Her husband's swollen and engorged shaft was standing proud, just inches from her face. Thomas's hand clasped the back of her head and pushed her face toward his groin.
"Open your mouth, take in my cock and suck me, Margaret," his voice was husky, low with lust. Without questioning Margaret did as he bid, she was overwhelmed but pleasantly surprised, when she found that she enjoyed the feel of his smooth hardened flesh in her mouth, relishing the guttural groan he gave as she frantically licked and sucked the warm and pulsing separate being that was his member. When her mouth was suddenly full of salty, sticky essence she gasped and coughed, choking on his culmination.
Thomas had not intended to spill his seed into his new wife's mouth, oh he intended to at some point in the near future, but it had not been in his plan for today. He quickly took out a silken handkerchief and wiped her mouth clean. Afterwards, he bent and kissed her passionately upon her lips. He stroked the bare flesh of her neck and shoulders, feeling her quiver under his touch.
"Thank you, darling, I had not intended to introduce you to that decadent joy quite yet but it was a most delightful and surprising interlude. I feel that you have been so very obliging and biddable, it would be unfair of me to now cane you for your naughty disappearing act."
Margaret relaxed, very much relieved.
"I shall now go over our finances as promised and then you shall come and ask me to spank you, whereupon I shall, of course, indulge you most gladly."
"P- Pardon?"
"I think you heard me quite clearly, Margaret."
The lady in question flushed hotly, her temper coming at once to the fore.
"No, I most certainly will not! This is monstrous, Thomas! First you treat me like a common strumpet and now you ask me to, ask me to-to... no! I will not do it I tell you, no!" Margaret jumped to her feet, pushing down her crumpled gown.
Thomas leaned back in his chair and watched as his wife rushed to the door and forgetting it was locked, she frantically tugged at the brass balled handle. When the door failed to open, she kicked and banged upon the wood with her feet and small clenched fists. Thomas watched but said nothing. Eventually Margaret sank, crumpling into a sobbing heap at the foot of the door, her head buried in her hands as she wept tears of frustration and rage.
"My, my, you are full of wild humour. When you feel composed enough, I wish you to come here and place yourself across my lap, Margaret."
After a couple of minutes of futile weeping, Margaret raised her head and looked up to see that her husband now sat in the chair that she had vacated. His back was to her and he made no attempt to turn around and look at her. Sniffing and wiping tears from her face with the corner of one of her petticoats, Margaret finally rose from the floor and brushed herself down. She smoothed back her dishevelled hair as best she could. She stepped toward her husband but then stopped hesitantly about half way between him and the doorway.
"That's right, dearest, come here to me," Thomas spoke soothingly but still kept his back to her. He extended an arm with his palm laid flat, inviting her to place her palm into his.
Chapter 7
Margaret gave a deeply resigned sigh and moved to stand at his side, although she refused to take up his invitation to place her hand into his.
"Bend over my knee now, Margaret."
After a false start forward, she finally complied and bent herself down across his lap.
His arm encircled her waist and she lay quietly where she was, waiting. Nothing happened.
"Pray what are you waiting for?" she finally whispered.
"Why, I am but waiting for you to request your spanking," Thomas replied mildly.
Margaret gritted her teeth, mainly to stop herself from leaning forward and sinking them deeply into his thigh.
"I do not wish to be spanked," she ground out.
"Very well then, you may stand up." Margaret did so, smiling, she was relieved that the answer to her dilemma had been so very simple.
"Now move to my collection of canes and select the one that you wish me to use on your disobedient and churlish bottom."
Margaret did something she had very rarely done before. She took the Lord's name in vain and followed that along with an extremely unsavoury oath; then to compound it all, she stamped her foot, not once but twice.
"Tsk, Margaret, now I shall be forced to whip you, you naughty, foul mouthed little besom!" Margaret sucked in her breath and gasped.
"Oh please, sir, no do not whip me," she entreated, "please, simply spank me, please,
Thomas, I implore you, do not whip me! I am most truly sorry!"
Thomas studied his wife's now tearful face, assessing her sincerity. "Hmm, very well, since you have asked me so nicely, I shall spank you after all. Back across my knee with you then, you uncommon naughty wasp."
Margaret almost flung herself over Thomas's knee and made not a whisper of complaint when he swept up her skirts and uncovered her naked behind. He ran his hand over her plump and peachy bottom cheeks, squeezing them appreciatively. Raising his hand, he began to punish his wife.
Whap—whap—whap.
Margaret accepted the first smacks that fell with very little movement and with only a few whimpers, but as the spanking intensified, she bucked and kicked out. Her legs were soundly smacked as she fought her husband's discipline. Relentlessly he spanked her. This was no play spanking; this hurt her and Margaret already so emotional, had tears flowing almost from the start.
"I will not put up with your wilful behaviour, Margaret, and you will learn to do my bidding as I command you. Otherwise you will be eating all your meals wishing to stand. However, I shall always insist that you sit upon your punished posterior, to help the lesson I have taught you to sink in. I am your husband, and as such, I demand your respect and obedience. Do you understand me, Margaret dear?"
Margaret opened her mouth to speak but a hollow wail rent the air instead of her intended reply. However, this piteous sound did not encourage Thomas to ease his hand and fall to a gentler pitch. He understood the lesson was only just being comprehended and so Margaret howled miserably as her bottom was indeed punished most soundly. How long she was spanked she had no way of knowing but it seemed an inordinately long time to her in her upside down position, with her hands placed downward upon the uncarpeted study floor.
Sir Thomas knew that he had to teach Lady Margaret to respect his word and in his experience, a spanking was a wonderful method of imparting a salient message to a naughty bottom. He increased his spanks and was pleased to note that Margaret seemed to be quite genuine in weeping her watery apologies to him. She waggled her now scarlet behind, from side to side in an attempt to avoid his heavy palm. Thomas increased his tempo before ending the session with a flourish of thwacks to Margaret's tender white thighs.
Thomas flexed his spanking hand, easing the ache, before stroking the pair of fiery orbs that glowed hotly up at him from across his knees.
"There now, your punishment is over and up you come, little madam." Thomas eased Margaret upright upon his lap and kissed her tear stained cheek. He took out his handkerchief and mopped her red face tenderly, holding the silk cloth to her runny nose.
"Blow," he ordered and she did with quite an unladylike blast. "Good girl, now what do you have to say to your husband?"
Margaret hung her head and took a deep shuddering breath before she spoke, "I apologise for hiding away and for being so rude to you, Thomas."
Thomas beamed at her with his roguish, twinkling smile. A smile that Margaret knew she would never again trust.
"Good girl. That was prettily put, my dear. Open your legs and I shall give you your reward. Margaret stared at her husband, her lips pursed in a tight line, while she considered his startling request, then obediently she shifted each of her legs slowly apart, placing one either side of his knees. Thomas slipped his hand beneath her skirts and slid his warm hand firmly along her inner thigh until he reached her soft cleft; her very slick and silky cleft. His fingers delved inside her and moisture flooded his fingers. Margaret rested her head against her husband's shoulder.
She could not even fight him anymore. She sighed and closed her eyes, submitting totally to his arousing touch. Thomas kissed her forehead and continued to plunge his fingers into her hot, wet muff. His thumb circled and tapped the bud of her swollen clitoris. He felt Margaret tense, her hips jerked as she thrust down wantonly upon her husband's questing fingers. The piquant smell of her womanly arousal filled the air as she bucked and mewled. Thomas continued to work his magic and Margaret felt herself fly apart quite violently, her body in spasm as she gave an involuntary cry. Her sudden culmination flooded her with the sweetest sensation of boneless uncoiling.
Thomas played with his wife's slippery core until she finished her orgasm and lay dormant, slumped quietly against his chest. He held her complete weight cradled within his arms and rocked her kindly, while pressing his lips gently against her temple.
"I love you, Margaret, and one day soon you shall come to love me but for now... well, I find am ravenously hungry, how about tea and scones, hmm?"
A deeply thoughtful Margaret climbed the stairs to her chamber that night. She was utterly drained, both physically and emotionally in body and soul. Her husband confused her, as did her own responses to him. In short, she was looking forward to a restful night's sleep. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours and she wanted nothing more than a soft bed and oblivion.
Sir Thomas remained below and enjoyed a glass of the finest French brandy, celebrating what he considered a successful first day of training for his wilful and spirited wife. She was less waspish and more obedient already. Her character meant that Margaret had played into his hands most satisfactorily, earning her a goodly lesson in wifely duty. They had only been married two days and already Thomas had seen signs of improvement within Margaret. He would draw out the sting of her waspishness until he found the submissive woman hidden inside her; the sweet and biddable girl who he knew she could be and would become, given training and time.
He was well rested from his refreshing sleep alone last night and ready for a marathon night of love with his pretty and now somewhat subdued wife. Thomas downed his brandy, eager to join his bride in their marital bed, for he fully intended to rut with her, all the way through until dawn streaked the sky.
Chapter 8
The following morn found Margaret sitting up in her bed, supported by a mound of white linen-covered plump pillows while she sipped at her bone china cup full of delicious reviving hot chocolate. Her eyes were heavy lidded and she was half dozing.
Hockley, her ladies' maid, flitted about the chamber collecting up articles of clothing scattered about the room by her lackadaisical mistress. They had been left where they landed last night when Sir Thomas had more or less ripped the clothing from his wife's body before tumbling her into bed.
Margaret had enjoyed his lovemaking but she was simply worn out and comatose by dawn. Exhausted, sore and thoroughly satiated, she had at first rejected Thomas's continued amorous and arduous advances. That only lasted about five minutes before he was once again seated between her legs, pounding away betwixt her thighs.
Her eyes were drooping almost shut when Thomas breezed back into their chamber whistling in the most common and irritating way. Margaret kept her eyes tightly shut in the vain hope that he would go away.
Her cup of chocolate very nearly unbalanced as she felt a large warm hand slip beneath the sheets and cup her breast, a thumb robustly rubbing the nub of her tender nipple, which immediately, and it seemed to Margaret, traitorously, peaked.
"Stop that!" she snapped, thoroughly irritated. Her eyes flew open and Thomas at once kissed her smackingly upon her open lips.
"Good morning, Lady Wiggington. Rise and shine, m'dear. I have a wonderful surprise for you today!"
Margaret's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What pray would that be, sir?"
Thomas signalled to Hockley to leave them and waited until she had closed the door behind her before he spoke. "The King and Queen are coming to take tea with us this very afternoon!"
This time Margaret's cup and saucer flew out of her hands and chocolate spilled darkly across the pristine linen sheets.
"What the... and how long have you known about this… oh you nincompoop! I have so much to prepare and do! I have..."
Margaret suddenly stopped for she found herself propelled forward and over her husband's hard thigh. His hand had begun to spank her before she had even landed across his knees.
"Ouch, Thomas desist, we have no time for this! Oww, actually you are hurting me!"
"Be silent, madam, you will not call your husband rude names but if you chose to so then this shall be the outcome!"
"I am too sore for this, my bottom still hurts, please stop now... Thomas!" she pleaded.
Thomas refrained from answering but continued to spank his wife until she wept. Whether they were tears of self-pity, Thomas didn't know but at least her apology had a ring of sincere remorse about it and so he stopped the spanking and pushed Margaret back into her nest of pillows.
"Turn over onto your front," he ordered her curtly and Margaret quickly complied. Thomas pulled up her chemise and studied her bottom cheeks. She was still red it was true but she had no bruising anywhere across her bottom or thighs. He wondered how sore her quim might be. "Up onto your knees please and open your legs. This time Margaret hesitated, ready to argue but a sharp slap upon her extremely sore derrière soon had her up onto her knees. Face downward pressed into the pillows, her knees spread wide apart as Thomas had requested. She whimpered with shame as she felt Thomas part her bottom cheeks.
She was indeed looking somewhat pink along her plump quim lips. Perhaps he had over used her last night?
Although, he mused, if her responses and throaty cries had been anything to go by, then she too had enjoyed their night of passion. Despite having ridden his wife for most of last night, Thomas shifted uncomfortably as his breeches became somewhat constricted, especially around his fall area.
Thomas ordered Margaret to stay in her kneeling up position and went into his dressing room to fetch a jar of soothing unguent for her 'husband-induced' affliction. He took a moment to adjust his cockstand into a more comfortable position, whilst in the privacy of the dressing room.
Margaret jumped as she felt her husband's slippery hands begin to work the cooling cream into her backside and downward into her quim. Whatever the stuff was, it most certainly worked at soothing and cooling her over heated flesh. She hummed with pleasure as he rubbed and kneaded her tender arse. He then spread the unguent upon her quim with gentle ministration.
"There now, all done, you should feel more comfortable now, darling. It is time for you to rise, naughty little lug-a-bed!"
Margaret flushed and rolled to her feet obediently. She felt piqued but her thoughts were of the upcoming royal visit. Thomas had left the room before she could question him any further. He really was an enigma to her, spanking her one minute, then loving her and soothing her in the next. Margaret was nonplussed and shook her head, quite bewildered. She felt again as though she were in some strange and topsy-turvy world, where nothing happening seemed to make any sense to her.
