Of Lords and Ladies Ch. 01

The first time she ever saw him was on their wedding day. Her father had come into her room, her tearful mother behind him pleading with him about something...nothing new in their household. But having him grab her arm and haul her bodily from the warmth of her bed WAS new.

"Make her presentable," her father had snarled before stomping back out of her room, the upstairs maid scurrying into the chamber an instant before the door had slammed. Her mother and little Fannie had worked over her, winding her long auburn locks in damp rags - heating the curling irons in the coals of the fire until the bedroom stank of singed hair...but the long tubular curls, gathered just above and behind her right ear hung flawless and hollow down over her alabaster shoulder. A small amount of rose oil smoothed between Fannie's palms and eased over the crown of her head made her smell more like a rose garden and less like a scalded cat.

She was bade to wash and did so - hurriedly - the water in the basin was no better than tepid and it was a chilly morning. Her mother, meanwhile, had her head buried in Allys' wardrobe, tsking over the number and condition of her gowns. Finally finding 'something suitable' in the nature of Allys' debutante gown from two years before a cream satin and lace creation - the only drawback of which was that Allyson had grown since wearing it to her debutante ball.

Her corset was cinched to the point she actually felt light-headed and faint before the gown could be draped over petticoats. Her bosom swelled dangerously over the top of the neckline - her breasts compressed and forced upward and outward by the unforgiving whalebone stays in her corset, and the stiff satin material. A swathe of white tulle was tucked around her shoulders, pinned together with a white silk rose between her breasts. Looking in the mirror Allys was convinced it only served to draw attention to her plump, unladylike breasts. Her mother pinched her cheeks several times to bring out the 'bloom' in them and suggested she bite her lips to cause them to swell and pink up slightly.

Heading out of her room and down the long winding stairway to the main floor of the old manor house she had sufficient time to wonder what was happening. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been dressed up and trotted out to meet some widowed friend of her father, or fat but wealthy, single cousin. What happened subsequently WOULD however be a first for her...and a last.

Rounding the last bend in the stairway behind her mother she looked down on her father standing there with a well dressed gentleman she didn't know. At first glance he looked to be considerably younger than her father but on closer inspection they seemed somewhat of an age, although the stranger was certainly better kept and in much better form than her father's rotund shape. She flushed slightly, but whether in shame at such close inspection of a strange man's physical form...or in guilt at the inadvertent mental betrayal of her father, she was not sure. Either way, when he looked up a moment later, he saw her descending demurely, eyes downcast, the apparent bloom of health on her cheeks and a glorious cascade of hair that caught the flames of the candelabra and reflected back fire of their own.

The only things he knew about her for certain were her age, just turned 18 - and that she was as virgin as the day she'd been born, or so her father assured him. Well, that and the fact that she belonged to him now by virtue of her father's gambling losses. If her father turned out to have lied about her chastity he could always come back with a bullwhip and even the score. It wasn't that he was particularly anxious to take a wife, but his solicitor had made so bold in recent weeks as to pointedly refer to his age, and the fact that if he died without heirs as well as intestate one of two outcomes was likely. His title and property would revert to the crown......or would descend to a loathsome worm of a cousin....neither outcome being particularly desirable as far as he was concerned. Her father's gambling losses turned out to be somewhat fortuitous as regards his hopes of begetting a legal heir before his time ran out.

The girl was not unattractive which should prove helpful to his 'efforts', although if she'd been horse-faced he supposed he could have pulled the covers over her head and done his business at the other end. Her appearance and supposed chastity, however, gave him some ideas of his own.....things more in keeping with his own... Her father clumped over to the stairs, grabbing the girl by the upper arm and jerking her so hard she stumbled and nearly fell. He wasn't aware of moving but rather suddenly he found his arms around the maiden, while he leaned over her rotund little father -

"I'll thank you to unhand my bride."

The other man swelled up, much like the toad he resembled, preparing to bluster.

"If there is so much as one bruise on her skin, our 'arrangement' might be considered null and void. Is debtors prison so appealing?"

The red-faced little toad settled into sullen silence, but his eyes were rebellious and Ronald had a sudden fear for the safety of his bride. Her mother's welfare was probably also at risk but not within his purview. The girl, a tiny thing who didn't come up even as far as his shoulder seemed to be all eyes and bosom. She was staring at him wide-eyed, not so much with fear he noted but with a startled, curious gaze, her breasts heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He thought he might be able to span her waist with his hands....and have hand left over. Keeping his hand firmly at the small of her back he steered her toward the door where his barouche waited.

"We will use this time to become acquainted and meet you at the chapel." He stated flatly, daring the smaller man to argue the point.

He was quite pleased to see the young lady in question neither argued, nor looked at either of her parents for permission. Her wide gray eyes, still fixed firmly on his face, she allowed him to direct her out the door, down the stairs and into the barouche. He was further pleased that, when he handed her into the carriage she did not immediately slide over to the far side, but sat midway on the seat, leaving him the option of sitting next her, or across. For the moment he chose to sit across from her so that he could watch her face and judge her reactions.

"What's your name girl?"

"Allyson, m'Lord. Allys if you prefer."

"Have they told you what's happening?"

Surprisingly she answered with a question of her own.

"Has he lost a great deal, Sir?"

Snorting, "Down to his last brass farthing!"

"Well then," she colored slightly, "You seem like a kind man."

Crossing over to sit next to her he covered her hands with one of his, discovering in the process how tightly knit and cold they were.

"Allyson, I am many things - I can be generous in victory, stern in judgement, unyielding in opposition - but I guarantee you, I am NOT kind!"

She made so bold as to look at him directly before lowering her eyes and blushing again. "And yet, you accepted me in recompense, sight unseen - and even kept him from hurting me just then."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, wondering just how much of the truth he could share with her, finally deciding on most of it.

"Well girl, if you'd been totally unsuitable I'd still have walked out. Your father swore to your maidenhead and if he lied," watching with interest as she colored violently, "If he lied, I'll have his hide! As for protecting you....I guard my possessions."

Leaning closer to her he asked her directly, "Did he lie? Are you virgin?"

Startled gray eyes looked up into his as she blushed again, "Yes, m'Lord, I am."

Patting her hands he smiled, not at all a reassuring sight she found.

"Good, then you've nothing to worry about."

She heard the horses hooves clatter when they reached the cobbled stones of the village and the barouche swung wide as it entered the sweeping lane to the small stone presbytery. At that point everything began to assume a dreamlike quality - slightly out of focus and fuzzy around the edges. He....the man she was about to marry....whose name she didn't even know....he climbed down from the carriage, reaching up to lift her down as though she were weightless. Not looking right or left or waiting for her parents to arrive he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and proceeded up the small flight of stone steps and into the old church. Parson Adams was waiting for them inside, his rheumy old eyes peering at her anxiously to ascertain her welfare and willingness to proceed. She smiled at him, although her lips trembled slightly and felt 'his' hand settle at the small of her back again, radiating heat.

The soft patter of footsteps and boot heels announced the arrival of her parents and 'he' nodded his head, "You may proceed now Parson."

She'd heard the vows spoken before of course, even thought about what it might be like to say them herself someday. Nothing had prepared her for this, however. Saying the vows with a total stranger seemed somehow a travesty...a mockery of all the ceremony stood for. She heard his name with a curious dispassion - Ronald, Lord Allensby. She would, it seemed, be a Lady in a few moments' time. Numbly her mouth opened and repeated the words that the old preacher spoke - the promises of love, faithfulness and obedience. She looked up then, when she said the word obey and his hand tightened on hers. She found he was looking at her quite strangely - almost triumphantly. Then there was a cold band on her finger and her mother's cheek pressed to hers - a swift whisper she didn't understand - 'something' she was going to have to 'endure' now and then they were back outside in the sunshine and he was handing her back up into the barouche.

Telling the coachman quietly, "The townhouse James," he clambered in beside her. He supposed that her belongings would be sent on from her home but accepted the possibility that she came to him in what she wore with nothing else. No matter. Things could be obtained. It was her...her spirit that he needed to ascertain now - her mind seemed quick, she'd shown remarkable courage in facing all of the day's events head up and dry eyed, she was a pretty little thing and her body seemed....'healthy' he thought with a quick lift of his lips as he viewed the expanse of cleavage. And she had accepted his directions thus far without question - he wondered how far he might be able to push her. Leaning back in the corner of the enclosed carriage, he spoke -

"I think it's time to see what I've bought....Lift your skirts Allys."

The startled gray eyes lifted to his again, "M...m'Lord?"

"I want to look at you girl. Lift your skirts. You don't want to disobey me so soon - that would displease me. Do you know what happens to wives who displease their husbands?"

Chewing her bottom lip she nodded solemnly. He supposed she did at that, considering her father's quickness to angry violence and his propensity for taking it out on those weaker than himself.

"Come now Allyson, don't be shy. There's no one here to see but me and I am your husband now....Lift your skirts."

Blushing furiously and leaning back against the seat in order to raise her hips she began to gather the cream colored satin - raising it slowly. Dainty ankles and slender calves, he noted. Her skin was quite creamy and fair, flawless as far as he could tell and as the hem of the gown reached her thighs he felt a distinct stirring in his groin. The first sight of a fresh cunny was always stimulating and hers was no exception. A soft feathering of copper curls bloomed against the alabaster white of her thighs and belly, the rose of her blush progressing downward now and disappearing beneath her ribbon garters.

"You're quite lovely Allyson," he waved away her murmured thanks, "And did your mother prepare you for what happens between a husband and his wife?"

"No m'Lord," she blushed furiously again, "She only said there was something I must endure," she admitted, supposing being naked in front of a stranger was what her mother had been talking about.

"Indeed?" He snorted with barely suppressed laughter. "Well, for every woman that thinks so there's another who feels that what happens in the marriage bed is the best part of marriage.....of life itself."

Standing upright in the swaying carriage he lifted the seat opposite and pulled out a tightly folded, heavy wool blanket, crossing to put it in the corner of the seat behind the girl. He noted with some amusement that, while she hadn't dared to drop her skirts again, her hands were now crossed in her lap, strategically covering that most lovely, and virgin cunt. Still standing in front of her, keeping his feet with no apparent effort, he urged the girl -

"Lie back now Allys, relax......and spread your legs for me." When she began to sputter a protest his voice grew colder and more commanding, "Allyson, did you not just promise to obey me in all things. I am going to sit down and I want one of your legs across my lap...the other behind my back. Do you understand me? I will not tolerate disobedience, but I would have you learn the pleasures that can be experienced together."

Blushing scarlet the girl laid one leg along the back of the seat, pulling the other up close to allow him to sit. He noticed that as she did it opened her to his examination and dropping down on the seat he turned toward her, using his own leg to brace her into that position. He reached out to stroke the swollen folds of flesh, fascinated as always as they flushed an even deeper rose color, swelling further and beginning to part - allowing him to glimpse the sweet depths of her moist channel. Allys meanwhile, had thrown a hand over her face in humiliation the moment he touched her.

"Tell me Allys - when you are alone, at night, and restless and unable to sleep....in the spring....or the summer....when your blood stirs....do you enjoy touching yourself?"

"M'Lord!" She protested loudly.

"I asked you a question wife. I expect an answer."

Stroking her again, seeing how her ruffled petals folded back, exposing her moist pink core. Seeing the large, protruding pearl on the rim - one of the largest he'd seen - a clear indication, he felt, that she could, with proper training and education, be a most sensual and responsive woman. While he was watching a large bead of clear nectar formed on the lower rim of her sex, rolling down and disappearing in the shadowed cleft of her buttocks. So much for her pretense of shame and disgust. She just might feel ashamed and disgusted....but it aroused her to feel that way. Licking his thumb he feathered it over her clit watching as her hips seemed to spasm.

"Would you like to show me how you touch yourself?"

"Please.....no m'Lord!"

"Well, another time then perhaps, but let me see if I can't perhaps figure it out...."

"M'Lord?" She squeaked before shutting her mouth with an abrupt snap when his thumb ghosted over the surface of her clit again.

Lifting his hand to his mouth he licked his thumb, wetting it thoroughly before sliding it over her again, splaying the other fingers of his hand over her mound, watching with fascination when her hips seemed to lift of their own accord even though her thighs tried to close against his hand's intrusion. She had spirit alright and untutored desire. It was going to be a pleasure training her, he thought, several sorts of pleasure in fact, watching another drop of her juice roll down the cleft of her buttocks.

"It feels good doesn't it Allys.....when I touch you here......like this?" Sliding his wet thumb over the peak of her clit again before turning his hand and angling his index finger just between her lower lips - wiggling it at the entrance to her sex - pleased to see how much nectar she was producing.

She flushed an even darker rose, stammering.

"B-b-but m'Lord.....it's a sin!" she finally managed to squeak out.

"I have a name Allys......Ronald......and when we two are together......alone......like this.....I would prefer you to use it." He spoke absently as he continued to toy with her and tease her, hearing an occasional soft whimper through tightly bitten lips.

"Y-y-yes m'Lo......yes, Ronald....."

She gasped - almost, it seemed, against her own will. Such obedience deserved a reward he thought, smiling to himself, knowing that if truth be told it was less her reward than HIS pleasure he was after. Adjusting himself where his trousers had begun to pinch he slid to the floor of the carriage - bending forward to replace his thumb with his eager tongue - forcing her legs open again when she would have clamped them tightly shut against him.

"RONALD......this is WRONG.....it MUST be a sin!"

"Why," he asked, lifting his head briefly, his warm breath raising gooseflesh on her thighs and belly, "because it feels so good? And what do you think of those portions of the Good Book that refer to a husband 'knowing' his wife."

"I-I-I have not been allowed to read them yet Sir. They were not deemed suitable for a maiden."

"Well, kitten, in future you shall read them.....you shall read whatever you desire....and you shall read that which I present to you to read for your edification. We shall have lessons.....and tests. But this...." Bending his head back to her - taking a long loving swipe of the tongue at her intimate tissues. "This is the first.....now relax my pet and let me show you what pleasure we can find together..."

She gasped again when his mouth descended against her rosy flesh - his tongue already busily stroking and seeking the source of her honey - wanting more. Not knowing if she'd ever allowed herself to give herself an orgasm before but positive no man....no one to be more precise....had ever had their lips and tongue where his were now. He did not believe she had enough life experience and exposure that would have enabled her to be THAT good an actress if they had. And he wanted....no, he demanded to taste her sweet cunny with her first cum. She was so sweetly wet already - her hips, all untaught though they were, lifting and rolling below him - sliding one lean finger into her cunny he immediately found the taut barrier of her hymen, pleased that she had not lied to him about that. At the intrusion her hips still briefly and he paused to ask -

"Does that hurt you Allys?"

"No m'Lo.....No Ronald.....it feels.....interesting....."

Smiling against her sex he asked, "Interesting? How so kitten?"

Her hand had come down from her face he noted although her eyes were still tightly shut and her face was turned away.

"Look at me kitten, I asked you a question."

Her eyes, enormous in the dim light of the barouche, gazed down at him - his eyes rising above the level of her lower curls - his mouth burrowing against her again as he watched her seeing a number of emotions cross her face - guilt, desire, arousal, shame and fascination. He rolled his finger inside her using it to gently stretch her passage wider while his tongue flicked over the swollen pearl he held between his lips, suckling it gently, much as he would her virginal nipples later. Clearing his throat brought her back to awareness of his question.

"It.....ummmm....it feels as though it belongs there in some way Ronald. It.....it's very difficult to describe. I....I've never felt any... ...anything quite like it b-before."

He hoped that as she grew more comfortable around him she would stop stammering. If not, perhaps a week or so at the country estate in the nude might cure her....pondering the pleasures of THAT possibility he found himself hoping instead that she continued to stammer. She would be appalled enough at the thought of being seen by all the servants in that state but if she were required to 'entertain' a select group of companions who shared his proclivities..... Having to close his own eyes and swallow hard for a moment, bringing his attention back to the present for fear of doing something he had not done since he was a callow youth of 18 and faced with his first wet cunt. Focusing on her instead helped him to quell his sudden desire to cream in his trousers.