Well, he mused as he ascended the staircase to the first floor where his bride’s chamber was situated, if he was honest with himself he did not find the prospect of punishing Eleanor entirely unpleasant. He did not expect the lady to agree with him, but in his view the sight of a pair of nicely punished buttocks offered a highly satisfactory treat. He remembered the pretty rosiness of her arse cheeks after his previous ministrations, and this morning’s work would be no less rewarding. A well applied switch would leave a dozen or so delightful stripes across her bottom and thighs. They would take a day or two at least to fade, and he might well insist upon being permitted to inspect his handiwork once or twice more before the evidence disappeared.
After all, she was to be his wife. It was not unreasonable to require her to raise her skirts for his pleasure.
It was on that thought that he entered her chamber without knocking to find Eleanor out of bed and standing by the window. Her maid, Margaret, fussed with her wardrobe for the day. The woman was laying out a rather fetching gown made of dark green velvet. She started as he marched into the room, and both women dropped into curtseys.
Eleanor, wide-eyed, regarded the handful of switches and he fancied her features paled.
Jamie paused, his head cocked as he studied her. He had considered her to be perhaps a little on the plain side when first they met, but he could not describe her so now. She was… pretty.
Nay, more than that. He gave the matter a few moments’ thought and determined that she was, in fact, what he would describe as a handsome woman. Not classically beautiful, but her looks were arresting, interesting. Her mouth was full, her eyes a fascinating shade of hazel with pale golden flecks he had somehow overlooked initially. And her hair was soft to the touch, he already knew that, and tumbled in most attractive tawny waves, especially as she wore it now, loose to her waist.
Her curves had always aroused his interest, but they were displayed to perfection. Her cotton night rail was almost transparent, illuminated from behind by the morning sunshine pouring in through the window. Her full breasts were outlined, and he could make out the rosy nipples that seemed to grow and pebble beneath the thin fabric. Her hips flared from her waist, her thighs smooth and beautifully rounded. His eye was drawn to the faint shadow of brown curls at the vee where her legs and torso met, and the enticing sight held its own allure. She wore no wrap to obscure his view, and he wondered if perhaps that had been deliberate.
He hoped so, and his cock seemed convinced of it. He shifted awkwardly at the sudden swelling in his groin and sought to divert his attention from his dilemma by dropping the switches into a pail of cool water he had ordered be placed in the chamber for exactly this purpose.
“It… it is time.” It was not a question she uttered. Rather, a statement.
“Aye,” Jamie agreed. “It is. Your maid may stay, if you prefer it.”
Please tell her to go.
“I… That will not be necessary. Margaret, will you leave us, please?”
The maid dropped another quick curtsey and scurried from the room.
“I have decided upon twelve strokes,” he announced, rolling up his sleeves. “Less than before, but I am mindful of your delicate condition and I have nae wish tae impede your recovery. Also, the switch is more severe than the strap would be.”
“I understand,” she murmured. “You have been most considerate, I do realise…”
Jamie could not repress his wry chuckle, He suspected she would soon revise that opinion.
“You will remove the night rail, if you please, then you may grasp the bedpost and bend over. You will lift your bottom high for me and remain quite still until I give ye permission tae move.”
“Remove my night rail? But, my lord, I do not have anything else on beneath it.”
He quirked his lip. “I can see that well enough, Eleanor.”
“My lord,” she continued to protest. “I had thought perhaps I could hitch it up, somehow.”
He silenced her by raising one finger. “You will be my wife in a mere matter of days, Eleanor. You need not be embarrassed at being nude before me.”
She flushed most delightfully, but still made no move to obey him. Jamie hoped he would not be obliged to force the issue.
“It… It is just that I do not wish to disappoint you, my lord.” Her cheeks had taken on a bright shade of crimson. Her bottom would soon bloom to match. But first…
He raised one eyebrow. “You disappoint me by your tardiness in obeying my instructions, my lady.” He hardened his tone. “You will do as I ask. Now.”
“I am sorry.” She bent to grasp the hem of her night rail and started to raise it. “I hope you will not be displeased…”
“I hardly think that is likely to present an issue, madam.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “No, no I suppose not. Our marriage is contracted, after all, and—”
“That was not my meaning, Eleanor. You will be my wife, and I am glad of it.”
“Th-thank you, my lord.” She closed her eyes and dragged the thin fabric above her head, then dropped it in a heap on the floor. She stood, motionless, her arms by her sides and her eyes tight shut. He noticed that she continued to worry her lower lip between her small, even teeth.
Jamie took his time. He had known her breasts would be lush and full, and so they were. The dark pink nipples lengthened under his interested gaze and he barely resisted the urge to take one between his thumb and fingers and tug on it.
Soon. Very soon…
The curls between her thighs were tight, a pretty shade of nut-brown. He fancied she might have gone to the trouble of neatening them with scissors. He appreciated her efforts.
She was beautifully curvy, her belly rounded and soft, her hips wide and her thighs plump and inviting. He imagined them spread for him, open and welcoming, her cunny wet and ready.
His cock lurched. He really must get on with this before he made a spectacle of himself. But first, for the avoidance of further doubt, there was something that he needed to make perfectly clear.
“Your body is quite, quite lovely, Eleanor.”
Her eyes popped open and she stared at him. Her disbelief was almost palpable. “But I am not beautiful. I know that I am not.”
He shook his head. “You are wrong, sweetheart. Beauty comes in many forms. Yours may take longer to reveal itself, but ‘tis no less profound for that.”
“No.” She met his gaze, tears shimmering. “I am not—”
He stepped forward to cradle her face between his hands. “You are beautiful, Eleanor. And you are mine.” He dipped his head to kiss her between the eyebrows, then brushed his lips across hers. “I fear that if we delay much longer, I shall be totally distracted. Since I cannot permit that, I must insist that you grasp the bedpost as I told you and present your bottom for punishment.”
She gulped, nodded, and reached for the bedpost.
Jesus, Mary, and all the saints.
It was all Jamie could do to remember to breathe. She was utterly delightful in her acceptance of her fate and her submission to it. Bending at the waist, she wrapped her fingers around the bedpost and pushed out her buttocks.
He cleared his throat. “A touch higher, if ye would. An’ ye may find it easier if ye spread your legs a little. Your feet should be two paces apart.”
Which would afford him an excellent view of her pretty little cunny.
Eleanor obliged him, tightening her hold on the post. Her breasts swayed under her, framed by the lush waterfall of her hair. She turned her head to watch as he plucked the first of his switches from the pail but said nothing.
Jamie walked around her and took a moment to indulge in admiring the perfect globes of her backside. Her flesh was creamy and quivered ever so slightly. He glanced at the fireplace to satisfy himself the blaze was healthy enough. It was, so he concluded she was not cold.
Fearful then. As well she might be.
“Remember, shoulders down, bottom raised. You will not try to wriggle away, nor will you seek to protect yourself with your hands. Do you understand, Eleanor?”
“Y-yes, my lord.”
He swiped the switch through the air a couple of times, remembering how she had reacted to the sound of his belt splitting the air. The whistle now was shriller, more ominous. She flinched but held her position.
Jamie took up his stance at her rear, selected the spot for his first stroke, and raised his arm.
The whoosh of air concluded with a sharp crack as the switch connected with her unprotected buttock. Eleanor gasped and her body jerked, but she remained in place.
He took his time preparing for the next stroke, waiting for the vivid stripe to bloom on her skin. He was not disappointed. The deep shade of pink contrasted beautifully with the milkiness of her soft flesh.
“Are you ready for the next one?” he asked, his tone gentle.
“Say it. Ask for it.”
“I… I am ready for the next stroke, my lord.”
“Lift your bottom higher. Show me that you are ready.”
She did as he asked, and he could not have been prouder of his little Sassenach bride. Or more aroused.
Christ, but she is a treasure.
The air whistled again. The switch landed again, this time on her other rounded globe. Eleanor let out a small sob.
Jamie waited until her breathing settled, then tapped her bottom with the switch. “Ask me for the next one, Eleanor.”
“P-please, my lord… please do it again.”
He selected his next spot and obliged her, painting another vivid stripe an inch below the first.
Eleanor sobbed again and rocked from side to side as she fought to bear the pain. Jamie inspected the switch as he waited for her to settle and detected the start of fraying along its length.
“Again,” Eleanor mumbled, her breath hitching as she tried not to cry.
“Wait there. I need to select a fresh switch. I fear ye have worn this one out.”
He took his time in strolling over to the pail and drawing another switch from the water. He shook off a few stray droplets, then returned to his position behind her.
“This one should deliver a decent lesson, Eleanor.” He drew its length across her buttocks, enjoying the way she clenched under the light touch. He continued, his tone deceptively conversational. “I am told a switching is more painful if you clench. You might like to try to relax, sweetheart. And you will spread your legs a little more for me, if you please.”
Eleanor groaned but attempted to do as he told her.
Her pretty pink cunny glistened, the wetness there beyond doubt. Could it be that, despite her obvious discomfort, at some level his bride actually enjoyed being punished? He had known some females were of such a bent but had not dared hope his own wife would be among their number.
Oh, Henry, if you had but known…
He treated her to the next stroke, waited for her sobbed request, then laid the switch across her clenching buttock again. It would seem that she was struggling to take his advice on that particular score, but it was of no matter.
“Eleanor?” he prompted when she did not ask him to continue.
“It… hurts, my lord. Please…”
“We are in no hurry, Eleanor. You may wait there as long as you require before asking me to spank you again. You may not get up, however, until we are done.”
Her shoulders lifted, then fell again as she drew in a deep breath. “Please, the next one…”
He brought the switch down again, then paused to check for damage to the twig. This one also was showing signs of fraying. He dropped it on the floor and went to select a replacement.
“My, my, you are certainly getting through several of these. I must remember tae have a decent supply tae hand for the future. It shall be your duty tae ensure that it is so. Is that quite clear, Eleanor?”
“Yes, my lord. Quite clear,” she ground out. “Please…please, just get on with it.”
“Hm, I would prefer that you ask me just a little more graciously. After all, I am seeking to ensure your safety and you might be just a little grateful for my attention.”
“I am sorry. Please, my lord, may I have the next stroke.”
Exquisite. Quite, quite breath-taking.
He treated her to the seventh stroke, then the eighth and ninth in fairly quick succession. It was time to change the switch again, and he would, but first he laid his palm on her punished bottom and drew his fingertips along the crimson stripes he had painted there.
Eleanor groaned, but did not shrink away. He pressed a little harder, rubbing against the soreness and allowing his fingers to trail along the crevice between her buttocks. The tips came away moist.
“Why, Eleanor, ye’re very wet. Do ye usually drool in this manner when disciplined? Ah, but I forgot, ye have not been accustomed to such treatment, have ye?”
“N-no, my lord,” she managed between hitching breaths.
“Open your legs wider,” he commanded.
“Because I have told ye to.”
It seemed his reasoning was sufficient. She inched her bare feet further apart, exposing more of her soaked nether lips for his appreciative view. Jamie slid his hand between her legs and gently parted her folds to reveal the swollen nubbin concealed there. He drew his finger along its length, and Eleanor let out a strangled moan.
“Do you like this, sweetheart?”
“Yes, no. I mean…”
He repeated the sensuous caress and she moaned again.
“Yes. Yes, I like it.”
He smiled to himself, and rubbed harder, savouring each guttural moan and loving the way she arched to press her cunny into his hand. It would be so easy to bring her to a climax this way, he thought.
He angled his hand and found her narrow entrance, then slowly slid one long finger inside her. Eleanor stiffened, as though in pain.
“Am I hurting you?”
She hesitated for a few moments, then, “No. No, Jamie, you are not.”
“You are tight, but very responsive. Soon, I shall fuck you and you will quiver beautifully around my cock as you find your release. Will you like that, do you think, Eleanor?” As he spoke he drove his finger in and out of her slick channel, adding a second digit for good measure.
“I… I do not… I cannot…” She squeezed around him as though she feared he might pull his fingers from her body. Her hips swayed, her breath came in rapid pants now.
“Let it go, Eleanor. Do not fight it.”
“What is happening? I have never…?”
Jamie was not entirely sure he believed her denial. After all, the lady’s reputation preceded her, not that he cared about any of that.
“Relax, let the pleasure come.”
“I… I… oh!” Her body was racked by a furious shivering and her inner walls convulsed around his fingers as she reached her climax. Her forehead rested on the bedpost, but still she did not relinquish her grip.
He continued to drive his fingers in and out until the final tremors died away, then he slowly withdrew.
“Now, that was a pleasant interlude,” he observed, reaching for the switch once more. “Tell me, where did we get to? Nine, I believe.”
“My lord?” She turned her tear-streaked face toward him. “What did you do?”
“Pleasure and pain, Eleanor. A heady concoction, I am sure ye will agree. Now, after that most interestin’ detour, ye will grit your teeth an’ take the rest o’ your switching, will ye not?”
“Y-yes,” she murmured. “I need this to be over. I want… I want…”
Jamie strongly suspected he knew exactly what she wanted, and he had every intention of ensuring she got it. He found he was suddenly just as eager as she to conclude the matter of her punishment.
“Three more. Are ye ready?”
She managed a small nod.
“Say it,” he insisted.
“I am ready.”
Jamie did not draw this out.
He delivered the final strokes in quick succession, barely allowing her time to gather her breath between each one. As the final stripe bloomed on her flesh he flung the switch aside and wrapped his hands around her stiff fingers.
“Let go, now,” he whispered. “I have ye.”
Still she clung to the post, so he gently eased her fingers open, then drew her upright. He turned her to face him and placed his knuckle under her chin to tilt her face up. Her eyes were closed. Tears streamed across her cheeks. But still, incredibly, a smile played about her lips. He kissed her, intending it to be quick but when she parted her lips under his, he could not resist dipping his tongue inside.
She curled her fingers in the fabric of his linen shirt and clung to him as she had the post.
Jamie did not break the kiss. He leaned around, swept his arm under her hips, and lifted her off her feet. Cradling her in his arms, he strode around the bed and laid her on it, then followed her down. He rolled her onto her back, noted the little mew of pain as her punished buttocks connected with the mattress.
He raised his mouth from hers just long enough to murmur, “Spread for me, sweetheart.”
She parted her thighs and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “We are to be wed,” she whispered. “So, it is not a sin, is it?”
He shook his head. “No sin, my sweet. Just pleasure.” He kissed her again, at the same time fumbling to unfasten his hose. His cock sprang free. He grasped it, risked two swift strokes along its engorged length, then rolled to position himself between her thighs.
“Jamie…?” she breathed.
“Eleanor,” he responded, and drove his cock balls deep into her tight, soaked channel.
Oh, dear Lord! Blessed Mary…
Eleanor stiffened, expecting an agonising assault on her senses. It would be as before… painful, humiliating, degrading…
Her body stretched, wrapped itself around the thick, solid intrusion. There was… discomfort. But not pain.
“My lord…” she began.
“Be easy, my sweet. I will nae hurt ye.” His voice was soft, a gentle murmur, reassuring. And he spoke the truth.
Thus far, he had not hurt her, apart from the switching but that was entirely different.
She lay still, did not dare to move for fear of unleashing the same horror that had befallen her before, on the only other occasion this—thing—had happened to her. That time she had been afraid for her life, too shocked and terrified to fight. She had not known what was happening and was quite literally rigid with fear. She had not struggled, and Culpepper had taken what he wanted then boasted that she consented, that she loved what he did to her. In truth, she had lain beneath her attacker, paralysed by fright.
But this, this thing with her betrothed, it was not the same.
Jamie remained motionless. His large hands framed her face, his weight resting on his elbows and knees. He was not crushing her, not like that other time… She could breathe, could move should she so wish.
“Are ye all right, Eleanor?” he asked. “I shall stop if ye say so.”
Stop? Why would he stop? He need not…
“Eleanor, tell me if ye wish me tae stop.” His tone took on a degree of urgency. He sounded concerned. For her.
“I… I am fine, truly.” The words were out before she could properly consider, but she spoke the truth, even so.
His lip curled in a relieved smile. “Thank all that is holy for that. I would ha’ stopped, I swear. But I prefer not tae.”
He brushed his lips across hers again, a gesture both tender and erotic. Eleanor’s inner channel, already impossibly stretched around his cock, spasmed.
Jamie smiled down into her startled features, and he winked.
Eleanor managed a watery smile back and closed her eyes, her stiff body softening.
Slowly, gently, he eased his length halfway out of her, then rocked his hips to fill her again.
Eleanor’s eyes popped open. The sensation was… not unpleasant. Not in the least.
“Oh,” she declared. “Oh, sweet heaven.”
“Aye,” he growled, his face buried in the crook of her neck. “‘Tis heaven.”
He withdrew again, then drove his cock deep. Faster this time, harder. But it felt good, and Eleanor at last risked a small roll of her hips. Without thinking about what she was doing, she lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist and grasped his forearms with her fingers.
“Ah, ye’re so tight, sweetheart. So warm an’ slick, an’ wet for me, aye?”
“Aye,” she parroted back, adopting a version of the accent she was coming to love. “Aye, for you.”
His strokes lengthened, quickened. Eleanor found she wanted to move too, arching her body in response. She ventured to do so and squeezed her inner channel to increase the friction. The sensation that now assailed her was exquisite, quite beyond anything she might have imagined, even before… what had happened in that garden in Vauxhall.
She had heard whisperings, girlish giggles, furtive secrets shared between the ladies at court, but she had thought them quite wrong, utterly mistaken. She knew better and could testify that there was no pleasure to be found in this. Or there had not been. Until now.
Her cunny convulsed once more, and Eleanor let out a little gasp, tightening around the solid length of the cock buried within her. She hooked her ankles together and hung on tight as he lengthened his strokes and found a new, more demanding rhythm.
Passion curled, stretched, started to unfurl deep at her core. Her body tensed, expecting, waiting, reaching.
“Please, I need…”
“Aye, my Sassenach, I ken what ye need…”
He leaned to his left, shifting his weight and making a narrow space between them, enough that he could slide his hand down her stomach to reach that spot he had caressed before.
Eleanor let out a sharp cry. Her body jerked. Wetness pooled.
“Oh, sweet Jesu…”
Her moan of delight was lost when he covered her mouth with his own again and thrust his tongue between her teeth. In, out, in, out. He mimicked the action of his cock, spearing her with his tongue just as he claimed her cunny.
It was too much. Overwhelmed, Eleanor arched and cried out as waves of ecstasy rippled through her body, starting at her core and surging out to the very ends of her fingers and toes. She shook with the intensity of it, quivered as the sensation swelled and crested again. And again.
He continued to drive his cock deep, long, swift strokes, then short, sharp thrusts designed to draw out her pleasure and tease every last frisson of delight from her inexperienced body. Pleasure mixed with fascination as her climax peaked one last, wondrous time.
She was still floating, cocooned on her own incredible, bewildering web of surprise when Jamie let out a hoarse shout and his cock jerked violently within her. Moments later, her cunny was filled with the heat of his semen and Jamie slumped on top of her.
His weight was not unwelcome, not threatening or suffocating. She held him, wrapped herself around him and hung on.
For long moments, they lay still, their bodies joined. Eleanor had no wish to let go. Could they not remain as they were for ever? Or at least for the rest of the morning?
Seemingly not. Jamie rolled away from her to lie on his back, his arm raised to cover his eyes. Eleanor moaned in protest when his softening cock slid from her body. He would leave her now, she supposed. He had much to occupy him. Their business for the morning was concluded. She could have no complaints.
He did not. Instead, he propped himself up on his elbow to regard her still flushed features.
“That was a most pleasant and unexpected surprise, my lady.”
Eleanor nodded. She could hardly disagree.
“I had intended to remain in a different chamber until our wedding. Now I am minded tae amend my plans. Would ye object?”
“I am not quite sure. What do you have in mind?”
“I shall move back in here an’ ye shall share my bed from now on.”
“Oh.” She had thought he might mean that.
“Well?” he prompted, his smile uncertain suddenly.
“I would like that very much, my lord.”
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