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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / The Duke and the Thief by Ashe Barker and Jaye Peaches – Extended Preview

The Duke and the Thief by Ashe Barker and Jaye Peaches – Extended Preview

“Say no more. I’ve heard enough.”

There were more than a dozen items she had not mentioned. “But you wanted to know about all of them?”

“I have heard sufficient.” He sighed, cast his gaze upon his shiny boots, before returning to look upon her tearstained face. “A thief is a thief, Eloise. It does not matter the items you took appeared to be of little use or value. A button, maybe, is not of consequence, and if you had stuck to broken threads and a strand of hair taken from a brush, you might not be standing here before me. As it is, you choose to purloin personal things. But, why, I ask? Why sink to such ill-conceived activities when I do believe you have a good soul?”

A tear trickled down her face. “I cannot explain. I wish I could. I am sorry.”

“I can see you are. I do believe that to be true.”

“What can I do to repair this situation, sir? What will absolve me?”

He picked up the vicious riding crop and bounced the tongue on the palm of his hand. She watched, mesmerised, as he flicked it through the air. She licked her lips, knowing that it would go some way to alleviate her guilt if he took it upon himself to punish her on behalf of those she had wronged.

“Where are the objects you took?” he asked.

“At my home. They are safe.”

“We will go to your house and retrieve them.”

Then what? She dared not ask him. Would he march her to a police station and hand her in? Or parade her before Madame Irene and request a humiliating dismissal?

“Or course, sir,” she said quietly. “I would do anything to right my wrongs.”

“Anything? I have thrashed you for taking the pincushion. What do you think it will take to punish you for all those other things you took? Tell me, Eloise.” He walked toward her and held out the tip of the crop, using it to nudge her chin higher.

“I guess that you should decide for me, Your Grace.”

He seemed to flinch. “Don’t call me that here,” he said curtly. “I am a plain man dealing with a recalcitrant girl. There is no need for titles.”

Eloise thought he was anything but plain. He seemed more noble than ever. He was well suited to the role of judge and perhaps that was why she trusted him. Slowly, with as much grace as she could muster, she sank onto her knees. The cobbles hurt, and she winced. However, her supplication caused a soft moan to escape his lips.

He can’t resist me! This will save me, surely?

“Oh, Eloise. You have twisted my insides into a knot of morals. Yet, I cannot ignore what you have done. If only I could,” he added somewhat enigmatically. “I shall spank you here and now for the button, the pipe tamper, the things that mean little. But the handkerchief, a gold nib pen, and whatever else you took that holds some value, you must suffer the consequences. Do you believe that will assist you with your guilt?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” she agreed, feeling both dread and relief at his proposal. “If my poor bottom—”

“Yes, it shall take the burden of your punishment. Kindly stand and return to your former position. This time, spread your arse cheeks apart so that I might see that puckered hole.”

She gasped. “Sir… I do not know if I could bear it.”

“Bear what?”

“Why, your cock, sir.”

Adam chortled. “My cock? That is what you think I should punish you with? I plan to drum this crop on your tender nook.”

Spank her bottom hole? She crushed her thighs together. It would hurt, no doubt, but what else might it do if her legs were spread wide and her pussy was on full view?

“I think, sir, I would prefer your cock to administer such a punishment,” she ventured, grappling with a strange sensation that caused her buttocks to clench and her pussy to leak.

“It would not be for your pleasure if I took you so,” he warned her.

“I would not expect it.”

He laughed, tossing back his head. “Oh, you naughty girl. It is obvious to me that you would find some satisfaction in having me spill in that virgin hole. I take it that you’ve never had cock in there?”

“No, sir.”

“You know so little about such things.” He rested his hand upon her head and patted it. “I shall decide if it is appropriate. You cannot be trusted to make wise decisions. I shall continue my chosen course of action. Your arse will be whipped with this crop, your hole punished, and then, I will see if you deserve my cock in whatever way I choose.”

She felt the customary flurry of butterflies erupt in her belly as he announced her sentence. She hid a smirk—this peculiar form of discipline would never happen in a real court of law. The game seemed back on, and although the roles of paying customer and well-mannered whore might have been altered beyond recognition, as far as Eloise was concerned, Adam Dacre was in charge and he could do as he damn well pleased if it kept her here at the lodge for as long as possible. Once he saw her hovel and the hoard of trinkets she had stolen, he would feel driven to act as a law-abiding citizen and nobleman.

This would be her last chance to win him over and change that outcome so she prayed for courage and suppressed her fears. So far, Adam had done nothing to harm her.

She bent as directed and once more, he bound her ankles to the wooden frame.

“Loosely, I admit,” he said, tying the last knot. “Now, bring your hands back and open yourself. Has your bottom hole been punished before?”

“No, sir.” She prised apart her tight cheeks, feeling the burning heat of her spanked bottom in her palms.

“It is important to keep your fingertips out of the way. That’s it. Just your cleft needs to be visible.” He quickly chose a different crop, one with a narrow long tongue and a shorter rod. “This will help with accuracy.”

“If you say so.”

“Scream, if you like. Only the horses in their stall will hear.”

He took up position behind her and she tensed, even though she knew it was the worst thing to do. The sting as the keeper slapped against her poor bud was tremendous. She leapt up and howled.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Later,” he said, somewhat amused by her reaction.

“I mean, that hurts.” She danced on her tiptoes.

“Down again, please.” He nudged her lower spine.

“You are being careful, sir?” she asked, thinking about her suggestion. How would it be possible for him to fuck her there if she had a sore arsehole?

“I’m quite adept at judging this, Eloise. Don’t fret. Down,” he added with a deeper growl. Clearly she demeaned him by questioning his skills.

“How many, sir?”

“Six. So that’s the first.”

“Six,” she whimpered. Her poor bottom.

The crop whistled before the tongue struck the full length of her furrow. She squealed, but managed to stay in place.

“Well done. If you take them all that well, I shall reward you with an orgasm.”

She settled over the saddle, held her cheeks wide apart and gritted her teeth. She would show him. A thief she might be, but a coward—no. Do your worst, she said silently.

“I am impressed,” he said after the third. “You are taking this punishment very bravely.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I think Mrs. Hodgkinson will accept your apology with good grace.”

The fourth was lower, landing between her puckered hole and her plump folds. She yelped.

“Bloody hell,” she cursed. “I’m in hell.”

He snorted jovially. “Hell would be a sorry place for you to live.”

You should see my hovel.

Five, then six. The final sting seemed less, as if her bottom, or more likely her frozen mind, had adapted to the novel sensation. She appreciated that he had hardly struck her hard, and it had been her imagination that conjured up the anguished pain.

Adam untied her and allowed her a few minutes to compose herself as she hopped about on the spot, waiting for the discomfort to disperse.

Glancing over her shoulder to where he stood by the line of whips and crops, she offered him her sweetest smile. “Are you finished, sir?”

He cocked his head to one side and reaching out with his long arm, touched what looked like a flogging implement.

“What do you think?” His voice lacked gravity, it almost floated across the room to her. Something about the tack, the saddles and whips had brought out a different man, one who might not only forgive her, but perhaps take her home and forget her misdemeanours. She had to keep him, cling on to him, because he had become more than a client since she arrived at the lodge. She straightened her back, clasped her hands behind her back, and squished her thighs together.

“I guess the answer is no,” she said. After all, he had mentioned a reward and she was sure she had earned it.

“Look up.” He pointed to the beams in the ceiling.

She tilted her head back and her mouth formed a ‘O’ of surprise. Dangling from one roof beam was a rope, hooked up high and out of reach. On the end of it, two metal cuffs.

She watched, rooted to the spot, as Adam used a thinner rope attachment to lower the cuffs to just above her head.

“They are padded with suede on the inside. See?” He swung the cuffs and she saw the tinge of leather lining. It didn’t make much difference. He intended to string her arms up and flog her.

“Have a little faith in me, sweet Eloise. I know my weapons,” he said with quiet confidence. She believed him. “Now hold up your arms. Your feet will stay safely on the cobbles. The purpose of this is to give me full access to your front and back.”

“I’ve never been bound like this.” She raised her arms up.

Adam slipped each cuff around her wrists and inserted a pin into the locks. She realised immediately that if she chose, she could reach the pin with her fingers and pull it out. She was not helpless. The sense of danger evaporated.

Slowly, he pulled on the rope and it tensed, forcing her hands higher. However, her elbows remained bent just above her temples. She swayed, and the rope moved with her.

“Keep your feet still,” he commanded.

He perused the selection on the wall before selecting a whip with six thick thongs. “I doubt any horse has felt the lick of these on their flanks. The grooms do keep a good stock just in case.” He rapped the flogger against the saddle and the noise made her jump.

“Don’t be scared,” Adam said, dragging the leather cords through his clenched fist. “Remember the strap I used, how soft it was?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Imagine six soft straps, so luxurious and light that when they strike you, they will seem like a thousand hard kisses brushing against your flesh.”

She swallowed, gulping air into her lungs at the same time. “Really?” She was not convinced he could possibly know how it felt.

“Part your legs,” he said sternly. “Eloise!” He raised his voice when she hesitated.

She slid them apart, creating a space wide enough for him to dangle the flogger back and forth. It swung like a pendulum, catching the softest part of her inner thighs. When it made contact with a thud, she felt a brief lashing and then no more. The flogger left behind a tickling sensation that made her giggle.

“Oh,” she panted.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, sir.” She wanted more, much more.

He swung faster, and a little harder, and with each combination of slap and tickle, the sensation grew stronger. She danced on her tiptoes, rocking her hips from side to side.

“Let’s move higher, shall we?” A rhetorical question. Adam had the whip and he could use it as he wished.

He skipped past her sore bottom and brought the flogger level with her back and breasts. Holding his arm out from a distance, he swept the implement back and flicked it against her shoulder blades. She felt a peculiar nothingness, as if something had briefly rested heavily on her back, then flown away. Maybe he was right—kisses?

He switched to her front, trailed the flogger over one shoulder and down between her breasts. She moaned, enjoying the soft fronds as they looped around her waist. Again, he avoided her midriff and pelvis. With another flick of his wrist, he applied a measure of force to his swing and the flogger criss-crossed her breasts. Her nipples stood to attention, throbbing as if pinched, while her breasts merely ached for more of the same treatment. Lowering his lips, he kissed each nipple, soothing them with his moist tongue.

“Oh, heavens. That’s bloody marvellous. Fuck me,” she muttered, as he administered the combination of flogger and mouth, over and over, until her clitoris throbbed for release.

Thankfully, he ignored her curses. “Ready down there?”

She nodded.

“Eloise, open your eyes and speak to me.”

He was right next to her head, his eyes watching her intently. “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

With his slender fingers, he ascertained her arousal for himself. Two fingers drove up inside her and met no resistance. She bit on her lower lip to suppress a cry of delight.

“Quite ready, I concur.”

He stepped back, standing directly opposite her, and slowly, began to swing the flogger between her legs, but this time front to back. The thongs curled upward, catching her bottom one way and her bare mound the other as he flicked the flogger with amazing expertise. Each swoosh brought her closer to a climax; she writhed, begging for it with a thrust of her hips, rising up onto tiptoes and back down onto her heels, matching his rhythm with one of her own.

“When I say, Eloise, not before,” he reminded her who was in control.

“I don’t think I can hold it any longer. I’m trying.”

“I’m sure you are, you’re being such a good girl. Learning to control your urges will help you in the future.”

Adam had a good measure of her weaknesses, but whereas she believed she could conquer the desire to steal things, controlling her orgasms was still beyond her. She cried out as the flogger brushed her clitoris. Her knees shook at the start, then as the orgasm rippled outward to every muscle and stretched sinew, causing her to moan and tremble, the apex erupted. Liquid trickled down her thighs, humbling her further. For a few minutes, she was a wanton slut who howled and thrashed her head from side to side, begging for the pain to stop, while praying that it never did.

“Beautiful,” Adam murmured as she slumped. “You are remarkable. Lean against me.”

In a weakened state, she easily followed his suggestion. However, only when he freed her wrists was she fully aware of the pins and needles in her fingers and the dead weight of her arms.

“Shake them out a little,” he said, allowing her to nuzzle into his shoulder. He patted her back. “There, not so bad. Now, I rewarded you for taking your punishment well, but I’m not finished with you yet.”

She lifted her head. “Sir?” She failed to hide the wary tone of her voice.

“You offered me your arse. And upon reflection, I’ve decided to take it. You came without permission.”

His declaration caused a fresh rush of nervous energy. She sprang to attention, the exhilarating orgasm forgotten in an instant. She reached behind and clutched her bottom, feeling the rise of small welts and the throbbing of each mark.

“But… is it not too soon?” she blurted.

He returned the flogger to its hook on the wall. As he moved around the tack room, he maintained an air of confidence. She watched as he removed his jacket and hung it upon a spare hook. With continuing nonchalance of a man quite at home in his surroundings, he slipped out of his waistcoat and rolled up his sleeves.

“Soon?” He turned to answer her question as if no time had transpired. “You fear for your little arsehole?”

“Naturally. It is untested. And, you just spanked it,” she added indignantly.

“I did. But then, we are here to punish you, are we not?” He perused the shelf above his head. “Ah, I knew there had to be some here.”

She tried to see what he held in his hand—a small jar or container?

“What is it?”

“Beeswax. Natural and untainted. The grooms use it to soften and buff the leather. I have another use for it.” He unscrewed the lid. “Bend over again.”

Her heart thrummed loudly, pulsating in her eardrums. A stream of sunlight shot through the window and formed a halo around the sawhorse. The saddle glowed a warm apricot brown. Saying no, recanting her request, was an option and she trusted him to honour her refusal should she take that course, But she had also offered herself willingly, and without doubt, she desired what he wanted from her. She had stolen things to soothe an invisible wound that would not heal. A constant pain in her heart that refused to abate, and yet, with Adam, she felt nearly whole and worthy of his attention. Why had she stolen something from the lodge when there was nothing she could ever take that would replace him?

What a fool am I!

With renewed vigour and her self-confidence slow in restoring itself, she obeyed him. She bent, ensuring her hips rested on the curvature of the saddle while her legs spread wide enough for him to see what he sought.

“Excellent. You are most enticing when you thrust your arse up into the air,” he said, approaching her from behind. “Now, this delicate spot needs some assistance. A smear of wax will not only soothe the tender opening but also lubricate and aid your deflowering.”

“Will it take long?”

“This preparation?”

“No, sir. I mean, when you fuck my bottom, will you be quick? The gentleman who took my virginity thrust hard because he said the quicker the better.”

“That might work for your cunny hole, but I think it would be better for both of us if I take my time. Of course, if you would prefer the other, I can oblige you. This is meant to rectify your mistakes and certainly, a bold entrance would, I can only guess of course, redeem your actions in the eyes of those you wronged. It is a pity that some of those noble men are not here to witness your humiliation.”

She imagined it. A circle of men, from young to old, watching her suffer the consequences while Adam took his pleasure. She would howl, beg for mercy, and they would titter and admire her arse. Except, not Sir William. He would not join in and would probably abhor such vulgar behaviour. And Madame would not like to see her girls demeaned and abused even in the name of justice.

“I do not think either of us would benefit from my suffering,” she said softly.

Adam trailed the span of all his fingers along her spine, triggering a delicious wave of goose bumps and gentle shivers.

“No,” he said quietly. “I could not bear to see you suffer or be the cause of it. There is nothing for me to gain. I wish though…” He sighed.

“Please, sir. I trust you.”

“Then, it will be as I desire.” He scooped out a dollop of beeswax and with a surprisingly gentle touch, circled her back passage with his fingers.

She flinched, then relaxed, enjoying the cooling sensation of the wax as he probed her widening cleft.

“Mm,” she murmured. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good.”

She sank heavier onto the saddle as he applied more pressure, prising her open with his thumb. His breeches brushed against her bottom and something else—the firm head of his moist cock was seeking out her pussy. He entered with a smooth thrust and she took his entirety with ease, knowing he belonged in there. Unlike the ravishing on the ground, this fuck grew organically from slow thrusts that went deeper and deeper, gaining momentum as he picked up pace. Throughout his fucking, he kneaded her other hole, enabling her to relax it and let him slip a whole digit inside.

“Do not clench. Keep your thoughts empty,” he advised.

He withdrew his finger, and then his erection from her cunny. He skated the bulb of his hardened cock up her perineum and used the rounded tip to knock at the closed door.

“Do you deserve this?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, sir.” She felt sure she wanted it more than ever. She gripped the legs of the sawhorse and breathed in.

True to his word, he applied no force as he penetrated, allowing her time to adjust, to stretch, and as he gained access to her virgin passage, he moaned appreciatively.

“Why, you are a treat. Are you in pain?”

“No, sir,” she lied a little, but what she felt was not the pain of suffering or torture, neither was it really the kind of pain she associated with punishment or the harshness of discipline. It was a duet to something else, an intoxicating sense of joy that filled her heart. As long as he was buried inside her, she had him captive.

The leisurely occupation ended when the fabric of his breeches grazed her sore rump. She had forgotten the stripes on her bottom, the crisscross of marks that went from arse to thigh. What she could not see, he could, and as he cupped his hand around her hot cheeks, she gasped as he squeezed, teasing her further with the additional discomfort.

“Fuck, you are a delight to behold,” he growled. “I shall not forget this day, Eloise, and what you have done to me.”

He drew back, then with a suddenness, thrust forward. She expected a tightening of resistance, but the opposite happened. Her coils unwound, loosening their tension and she took the full measure of him with greater ease. And again, as he repeated his action. He was fucking her arse and the fullness was amazing.

As for her clitoris, it chafed against the warming leather as he knocked against her bottom. If only he was as bare as her, then she might feel his skin and firm muscles soothe her as he thrust. Instead, she only had the touch of his hands, which he used to caress her shoulders and arched back.

Unbound, she shifted her body higher as he wrapped a handful of her hair into his fist. He folded, lowering his chest onto her back and with his cock buried deep inside her, he nipped her earlobe with his lips before peppering her neck with kisses. She turned, catching the whiskers of his sideburns on her cheekbone. His hot breath blew into her ear as he panted. Now, with her fully conquered, he could pummel and grind his hips while she bucked hers in tandem.

“You like this, I think.” Another ungentlemanly growl that stoked a swarm of energetic butterflies in her belly.

“Yes.” She could not deny she loved his conquest.

“Tell me, Eloise, what naughtiness do you plot? Will you steal from me?”

“Never, sir,” she said indefatigably. “My corrupt soul is cured.”

He paused, loosened his grip on her hair, and nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. “I do pray so,” he said. “I should not desire you, but I do. I should not let you…” He exhaled, deeply, leaving the sentence incomplete. “Let us dwell no more on this matter until you are home. I want you to come on my cock as I do. Are you able to follow my lead?”

“Yes, sir.”

He built the rhythm again with long strokes of his cock, massaging her in such a way that each dip of his erect member brought her closer to the edge of a sublime climax.

Adam paused, balanced on his own plateau, then he thrust hard three times, exerting great energy into his movements. “Now,” he cried out.

She too was on the cusp, and she tipped over, cascaded down the other side, and he spilled his liquid inside her on cue. Spurt upon spurt mirrored her own spasms and she clenched, hoping to trap him inside for an eternity.

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