Captive Fox
Part Five

by Bluebonnet





Disclaimer: Yeah right, like I could create characters like these?

Rating: NC-17, Baby!

Keywords: Sex and discipline, need I say more?

Archive: Only at Persuaders

Summary: In a land where women rule and men are chattel, Fox Mulder Scully is his wife's most prized possession...



Fox fell into a sound sleep after crying out his release in Dana's arms, and she lay atop him for a time, smiling happily. She was quite pleased with her marriage, and teaching Fox the ways of a woman with a man was even more fun than she'd expected. He was always shocked, and yet always so responsive to her lovemaking. Even now, after she'd spent the last hour torturing him, he slept with a smile curving his lips and a contended expression upon his pretty face. She was certain Fox didn't find marriage to be too repulsive.

At last, glancing toward the clock and realizing that the servants would be arriving with lunch at any moment, Dana rose and donned her robe. She had just finished removing the scarves that still bound her husband to the bed and covering his naked form when the knock at the door signaled the arrival of their meal.

"Bring more bath water," she ordered when the lunch tray had been deposited on a table. "And wipe that smirk off your face, Sarah. Fox is shy enough about lovemaking still, without you ladies teasing him about it. Last night in the stocks was terribly difficult for him."

"Yes, my lady," Sarah responded demurely, and retreated to ring for more bath water.

By the time the smell of food woke Fox, the tub had been once again refilled with steaming water, and Dana was just climbing from its depths. She wrapped the drying towel around herself and smiled at him.

"Get yourself bathed and dressed, Fox," she ordered gently, "and then we'll eat. I have a surprise for you this afternoon."

"A surprise?" he questioned, eyeing her suspiciously, and bit his lip in consternation when she laughed at him.

"Yes, a surprise. A nice one. Now obey me, or I'll have to take my hairbrush to that pretty backside of yours."

Fox climbed out of bed immediately, slipping into the warm bath water and giving a sigh of bliss. He relaxed for a few minutes, allowing the heat to soak into his sore muscles, but when Dana emerged from behind the screen, fully dressed, he hurried through his washing.

The smell of the food when she uncovered the tray reminded Fox that he was quite hungry, and he dressed quickly and took his place beside her.

"Allow me to serve you, my lady?" he requested, and Dana nodded her thanks.

When he reached to place her plate before her, the sleeve of his shirt pulled back to reveal the bruised flesh of his wrists. Dana captured his hand in hers and lifted the injured wrist to her mouth, planting soft kisses there.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you, my sweet," she said, with just a hint of apology in her tone. "I hadn't anticipated your extreme reaction."

He took his seat and reached for a piece of bread. "Do not worry, my lady. I bruise easily, but the bruises don't last long, and rarely do they cause me pain."

They ate in silence for a few moments, and he finally found the courage to broach a subject they'd been avoiding.

"I--I want to thank you for what you did last night," he told her sincerely.

She took a long drink of wine from her trencher, then said, "What, specifically, are you thanking me for?"

"For saving me from a lot worse punishment," he admitted. "I had time to think about it, standing there in those stocks for all those hours. You could have allowed Lady Fowley to name a punishment, you could have let the party guests watch, but instead, you gave us our privacy during a humiliating ordeal. I appreciate that."

Dana put down her bread and took his hand again.

"Fox, I didn't want to punish you at all. I was wrong, and so was Mother, for not paying attention to Walter when he tried to gain our assistance. The only reason you were put in the stocks is to give the appearance of a harsh punishment to follow--our guests are none the wiser."

"I know. Walter said as much. But all the same, I thank you. Lady Fowley...frightens me."

"You will do your best to avoid her in the future," Dana ordered, "and I will see to it that she does not touch you again. That woman is a viper."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, finish your lunch, and let us see about that surprise."

Fox finished his meal, more eagerly now that his conscience had been cleared, and as soon as they were done, Dana rose to her feet and left the chamber. Fox followed closely, wondering what this new surprise could be, and hoping it was not as unpleasant as the stocks.

They entered the Scully stables, and Fox spotted his surprise at once, running to the stall occupied by the newest addition.

"Samantha!" he crowed happily, nuzzling the horse's head and allowing her to do the same with him. "I missed you, my beautiful darling," he crooned.

"Langly brought her over early this morning," Dana told Fox, enjoying the reunion taking place. "I do believe she missed you, as well. Saddle up, Fox," she said, leading Thunder from his own stall. "I'm sure Samantha craves having you ride her. Perhaps we'll find a quiet spot and you can ride me."

Fox was speechless at her reference to their lovemaking, and the wanton way in which he had behaved. He continued to be amazed at his own reaction to his beautiful wife, completely unprepared for the many ways in which she insisted upon using his body and yet averse to none of them, not really--not deep in his heart.

"My lady enjoys embarrassing me," he murmured as he placed a saddle on Samantha's back.

"Indeed I do, Fox," she smiled. "I like to see your pretty face turn red at my words. It's quite attractive. I'm also very pleased that you are so pure and innocent, my darling, but you are a man now, and you must learn to pleasure me in any way that I desire. Soon you'll grow used to our activities, and you'll no longer feel shame."

"Not shame," he corrected as he mounted his horse and followed Dana out of the barn. "Just..."

She gave him an understand look. "I know, it isn't considered proper for a young man to know about such things. But you're married now, Fox, and it's not only proper, it's expected. Lady Teena has sheltered you even more than I suspected."

"After Father died, I was almost a prisoner on our estate," he confirmed quietly. "Father gave me Samantha on the day she was born, and she has been my truest friend. Haven't you, darling?" he cooed at the horse, and Dana smiled.

"For the past five years, I've seen little of society. I never had a Season in London, for Mother always intended to choose my wife, so I'm quite uneducated in the ways of women. Father always told me..." He stopped and shivered in the chilly afternoon air.

"What did your father tell you?"

Fox sighed. "He said that women would try to take advantage of me because I was pretty. He said if I wasn't careful, I would be ruined, and no woman would want me for marriage. I guess I believed a little too deeply in his words."

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "it's true that some women feel that way--they want their husband completely untouched or they don't want him at all. I would have wanted you in any case, my Fox."

He glanced at her, startled. "Is that true?"

"Of course."

"Then," he teased, "I could have been bedded by many women and still become Lord Scully?"

Dana's eyes narrowed. "But you've only been bedded by me, and so help me, Fox, it had better be that way until I die. If I ever thought you were with another woman--"

She let the threat hang, but Fox shivered again. He had seen enough of his wife's temper to know that he never, never wanted to cross her in that manner. Besides, the thought of any other woman touching him the way Dana did was slightly repulsive and more than a little frightening.

Their peaceful conversation was interrupted a moment later, and Fox paled--it was the woman who could cause him to quake in his high-heeled boots.

"Good afternoon, Lady Dana," called Diana Fowley's voice behind them. "Fox, you're looking particularly lovely today."

"Thank you, my lady," mumbled Fox, edging Samantha closer to Thunder.

"You seem fully recovered, Diana," Dana observed coolly. "I'm glad to see that knock on the head didn't rattle your brains further."

Diana's eyes narrowed briefly. "I do hope Lord Walter was suitably punished for that, as well as Fox. You're sitting entirely too easily for my taste, Sweet One."

Fox remained silent, his eyes on his saddle, hoping Dana would remember her promise not to allow Diana to touch him again. Samantha whinnied and nuzzled Thunder's neck. She didn't care for Lady Fowley either.

"Fox has been punished to my satisfaction," Dana replied.

"What a fine mare," Diana said, eyeing Samantha admiringly. "Lady Dana, I do hope you'll consider selling her to me!"

Fox gasped, completely taken aback. Diana knew how much Samantha meant to him, she had known his family for years. Fox had been with Angelfire when she'd birthed Samantha, and he'd raised her and loved her all her life. Surely Dana wouldn't sell his horse!

"I'll consider it," Dana answered evenly. "But I doubt you'll gain satisfaction. Fox's horse is not for sale."

He slumped in the saddle with relief.

"But she isn't Fox's horse," Lady Fowley objected. A man cannot legally own property. As your husband, any property that came with him from his mother is now yours to dispose of as you see fit."

"Exactly," Dana agreed. "And I see fit to allow Fox to keep Samantha for as long as he wishes. Good afternoon, Lady Fowley. Fox, come along."

Fox obeyed gratefully, following his wife as she rode away from Lady Fowley, but he could feel the other woman's eyes on them until they rounded a corner and were safe from her sight.

"Thank you, my lady," he whispered, obvious relief on his face, and she turned to him in surprise.

"I want you to be happy with me, Fox," she told him earnestly. "It's clear to me how much you and Samantha care for one another. I would never take her away from you."

He nodded, patting the horse's neck comfortingly. "It's all right, Sammy," he told her. "We have a good, kind mistress who will take good care of us."

Dana smiled, urging Thunder on to a trot. "Come now, Fox. I know of a clearing nearby where you can thank me properly."

"You mean...out in the open?" he asked, aghast.

"That's right."

"But my lady--someone might see us!"

Her laughter floated back to him on the wind. "Fox, if anyone sees us, they will go discreetly on their way and leave us be. And besides, anyone who saw me enjoying you would only envy me, and think what a lucky woman I am to possess such a beautiful husband."

He sighed, and trotted after her. He had no choice, really--if he refused her, she would only punish him, and then she would take him anyway. And besides, his wife's attentions to his person were more welcome than he felt comfortable admitting yet. He wondered if she would allow him to be atop her again.



Fox crept carefully from the bed, slipping slowly from beneath the possessive arm Lady Dana had flung over him. It was still an hour until sunup, and with any luck he would be back in bed beside his wife before she noticed his absence. Now, if he could only elude the servants. The serving men weren't so bad, but the damned wenches were a step above him in rank simply by virtue of their gender, and they never let him forget it. He'd complained to Dana, feeling used and abused on more than one occasion, but she had only patted his cheek and told him not to worry his pretty head about it--the servant women might tease him a little, but they knew where to draw the line.

Fox wasn't so sure, but he had no choice but to trust his wife, and to be sure, none of the women had done anything more than grope him. He was used to submitting to that--his mother's servants had done the same thing. It wasn't unusual for him to find one of the male servants surrounded by the women, after working hours were done, being teased and tormented mercilessly. Usually the man would be taken away to the servants quarters, probably to be the entertainment for the evening, although Fox was never sure about that.

He'd questioned Jerry Lamana about it once, when they were younger, but Jerry had merely shrugged and stated that it was the lot of a male servant to be at the whim of the females. Sometimes the mistress of the house would take a male servant to her bed--at times it would be the man's only function to warm the mistress' bed--but he was fairly certain Lady Teena had never done so. Not on a regular basis, anyway. As to Lady Dana--well, she hadn't done so yet, but Fox was troubled by the idea that she might. He wanted to be the only man in his lady's bed.

Fox crept carefully down the stairs, avoiding the step that always creaked, and ducked into an empty room on the first floor when he heard two of the servants approaching. It was part of the kitchen staff, on their way to begin preparing breakfast for the family and staff, and Fox breathed a sigh of relief that he had approved the week's menus with the cook the day before. He need not concern himself further unless his assistance was required in meal preparation, or a decision concerning the kitchen had to be made.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, until the coast was clear, and then slipped quietly out the door and ran for the stables. He needed to ride Samantha. He needed to hold onto her neck, and smell her horsey smell, and remind himself that not everything in his world had gone topsy-turvy in the past week.

He entered the barn happily, threw open the door to Samantha's stall--and froze. It was empty. Samantha was gone.

Chewing thoughtfully on his lip, Fox glanced around quickly to see if anyone was about. Could it be that one of the stable hands had merely taken her out for some exercise? No, it was much too early for that. They wouldn't begin working until sunup, and the entire barn was quiet.

Immediately, his mind jumped to what he considered the most logical conclusion. It had to be Lady Diana. She had wanted to buy Samantha, and when Dana had refused, Lady Fowley had stolen her! Poor Samantha--Fox was afraid to think how she would be treated in Lady Fowley's care. He had to get her back!

He bolted into the stable yard and bit back a cry of surprise when he nearly ran smack into Walter.

Walter had been roaming the grounds when he had seen Fox sneak into the stables. He was fairly certain Lady Dana wouldn't approve of her young husband skulking about the property alone, especially before the sun arose, and if Fox intended what Walter suspected...well, Walter knew from sad experience what happened to Scully men who went riding without protection.

"Fox, what are you doing?" he hissed quietly, grabbing the younger man by the wrists to steady him.

"Let me go," Fox insisted, twisting away. "She's taken Samantha!"

"Who?" Walter demanded, clutching at Fox's arm when he tried to run. "What are you talking about?"

Fox sighed impatiently. "Lady Fowley. She wanted to buy Samantha and Dana wouldn't sell her and now she's stolen her!"

Walter stared into the barn, at Samantha's empty stall, and then gave Fox a little shake to calm him.

"You need to report this to Lady Dana at once," he began, but Fox was already shaking his head vigorously.

"I haven't time, I must find Samantha!" he insisted. "I have to bring her back. Besides," he added, almost as an afterthought, "what are you doing out here alone?"

"It's my quiet time," Walter admitted. "Since Lady Maggie caught me about to go riding alone, I haven't dared venture that again. I've taken to walking the grounds in the early morning before anyone else arises."

Fox's eyes narrowed. "Lady Maggie would be furious if she knew," he remarked slyly.

"She doesn't know. And you'd better not tell her, or I'll--"

"If you keep my secret, I promise to keep yours," Fox bargained. "I have to go after Samantha. If anyone asks about me, create a plausible lie."

"You can't go to the Fowley land alone!" Walter objected, shocked at the suggestion. "What would Lady Diana do if she found you? Fox...you might be..." Walter couldn't even finish the sentence, the image was so horrible.

"I don't care," Fox tossed recklessly over his shoulder as he jogged down the carriageway. "I have to rescue Samantha."

Walter stared after Fox, then looked helplessly up at the windows to Lady Maggie's chamber. If she chanced to awaken and glance outside to see her husband wandering the grounds in the dark, without an escort...he shuddered. On the other hand, he simply couldn't let the boy confront Lady Fowley alone. He should go after Fox, and drag him back home if need be. That's what Lady Maggie would expect of him. Nodding to himself, he set off after Fox. He had to get the younger Lord Scully back home before the women discovered that they were both alone in their beds.



Elizabeth squinted, staring down the road at the two figures disappearing in the opposite direction. It was still somewhat dark, but if she didn't know better, she would swear it was the two Lord Scullys, tearing off down the road on foot, alone.

Shaking her head, she clucked at Samantha, giving the mare a bit more rein.

"It wasn't nice of you to go running back to Lady Teena's estate," she scolded. "You're a Scully woman now. You live here."

Samantha nickered at her and followed obediently.

Elizabeth took another look down the road, barely able to discern the dim figures now, and would have soon forgotten all about it had she not heard a voice call, "Hurry up, Walter! You're lagging!"

It was definitely Lord Fox, Elizabeth thought with a sigh. Lady Dana certainly had her hands full with that one. It was almost enough to make Elizabeth glad she'd never taken a husband.

She led Samantha into the stable yard and turned her over to one of the lads that tended the horses, then made her way toward the mansion. She had no idea where the Lord Scully's were bound, but they were headed for Fowley land. Lady Dana would be displeased. Greatly displeased.



Dana awakened, reaching for Fox in the big bed, planning to ravish him this morning until he begged for mercy. One of the most satisfying things about marriage was always having a man warming her bed when she desired. Oh, Dana could have taken any number of servant men to her bed, and had, on occasion, but she preferred the stability of making love frequently with the same man, and she had never found one who pleased her over a long period of time. Until Fox. She couldn't imagine ever growing tired of him. He was so full of passion and sweet enthusiasm that at times he took her breath away.

Her arms did not find that which they were seeking, and after groping around the warm bed for several moments, Dana opened her eyes. Peering through the gloom, she was surprised to find herself alone. Her jaw clenching in anger, she rose swiftly from the bed and lit the lantern. Fox's clothing, which she had tossed about the chamber the previous evening in her haste to get him naked, was missing. Swallowing her anger, Dana donned her robe. She told herself that Fox was merely conscientious, that he had left their bed early to supervise the servants in the morning meal preparation, but Dana knew that her husband had arranged all the menus just the day before. Perhaps there was some crisis, then, which had called him from his bed. Unlikely, she told herself. Any crisis would have been called to her attention, and she would have delegated the handling of it to Fox had it concerned the household. The only other answer, she fumed silently as she flung open the chamber door, was that he had run away. She strode down the corridor and tugged furiously on the door leading to the stairwell, nearly ripping it off its hinges, and stopped short when she met her mother just emerging from her own wing of the mansion.

"Have you seen Walter?" asked Lady Maggie, noting the rage on her daughter's face.

"No, but I'll bet when I locate Fox, the two are together!" she retorted, tugging angrily at the belt to her robe.

"Lady Dana--oh, Lady Maggie!" Elizabeth stopped at the top of the stairs, surprised to see the two Ladies of the household in the stairwell in their nightclothes.

"Yes, Elizabeth, what is it?" Dana asked impatiently.

"It's Lord Fox, my lady, and Lord Walter."

"Have you seen them?" Maggie demanded.

"Yes, my lady, I believe so. You see, Samantha slipped out of her stall last night and made her way back to Lady Mulder's estate. I noticed her missing early this morning, and guessing what had happened, I rode over to fetch her. We were almost home when I saw two figures running down the road away from me. At first I didn't believe it was them, but then I heard Lord Fox's voice, and I knew I'd better let you know. My lady, they had no escort, and they were headed toward the Fowley estate!"

"They were on foot?" asked Dana harshly, and her mother placed a calming hand on her arm.

"Yes, my lady, and running for all they was worth."

"Very well. Thank you, Elizabeth. Dana, dress quickly. We must retrieve them before they are spotted by Diana's people."

The two women sped back to their respective chambers, donning their clothing as quickly as they could, and met in the stable yard. Dana swung herself up on Thunder's back, and as Maggie mounted Hurricane, she wondered at the coil of rope Dana had hung on her saddle.

Shaking her head in frustration, she followed Dana down the carriage drive toward the road. Fox seemed a magnet for trouble, and her own usually well-behaved Walter was able to get into more scrapes with the boy around.

"Dana, you must take a firmer hand with that boy," she commented as they turned their horses toward the Fowley land.

"Oh, I plan to, Mother. I plan to."



"Can you see her?" hissed Walter, and Fox shook his head. They were within sight of the Fowley stables, just off the road hidden in some brush, but so far all their spying had yielded no sign of Samantha.

So intent were the men upon their task that they were oblivious to the sound of hoofbeats approaching.

"Maybe she's not in the stables," Fox whispered grimly. "Maybe Lady Fowley has her somewhere else, somewhere horrible...maybe--"

"Maybe I'll whip your ass all the way home," cracked a voice behind him, and Fox felt his legs turn to jelly.

Slowly, dreading what he knew he would see, Fox turned to face his furious mistress. She glowered down at him from Thunder's back, and directly behind her was Lady Maggie.

"My--my lady," Fox stammered, his mouth suddenly dry. "We were just--we were--"

Lady Maggie ignored him, having eyes only for her own husband.

"Walter," she said in a warning tone that he had come to know too well.

Walter heaved an audible sigh, and gave himself up to his wife. He had learned, from months of experience, that fighting her was useless. She pulled him up, none too gently, and settled him in front of her on Hurricane's back. Then, sparing neither word nor glance for Fox, Maggie flicked the reins and rode away grimly.

Fox was left alone to Dana's mercies.

"Do you have an explanation for why I awakened to find you gone, my sweet, and had to learn from Elizabeth, the stable girl, that she had seen you and Lord Walter racing down the road on foot, toward Lady Fowley's property? Could there possibly be an explanation for that?" She tried to keep her voice carefully neutral, but it was impossible to erase all the fury from her tone.

"I--uh--my lady--I--" Fox gasped for breath, completely undone at the sight of his lady's face. She was going to kill him. No question. She was going to kill him this time. Would she do it quickly and mercifully, or would she torture him for days first? Either way, it was all over now.

He closed his eyes tightly and said in a rush, "Samantha was missing and I know Lady Fowley took her and I'm sorry Dana but I needed to help Samantha and we have to get her back before Lady Fowley--"

"Enough!" roared Dana, and Fox clamped his lips shut.

"Samantha," Dana told him carefully, "is at home eating her breakfast. It seemed she got a little confused about where home is now, and managed to slip out of her stall last night and make her way back to your mother's estate. Elizabeth, expecting this behavior from a horse, went to bring her back. What she did not expect was to see you and Lord Walter running down the road in the other direction, straight into danger, without any kind of female escort!" Her voice had risen steadily toward the end of her tirade, until she was actually yelling at him.

Fox remained speechless, knowing nothing he could say would make the situation better, while Dana calmed herself. When she had regained some control, she climbed down from her horse. Fox trembled as she approached him, but knew running would only compound his trouble. Dana reached up with both hands and ripped the shirt he was wearing straight down the front, exposing his chest to the cool morning air. She continued tugging at the fabric until it was in rags, and discarded them without another thought.

"My lady--what--?" he gaped, but she ignored his protests. Next, she withdrew a short length of rope from her saddlebag, and tied his wrists together behind his back. Fox sighed, submitting to her, wondering what else she had in store for him. The morning air was chilly on his skin, and with an embarrassed flush, he prayed no one would ride by and see him half naked, tied in such an undignified position. It was permissible for a man to show his chest, indeed, some ladies even required it of their husbands, but Fox had never been comfortable displaying his body in that manner, and had been grateful that Lady Dana allowed him to remain fully dressed--at least when others were around. Now he felt exposed and humiliated, and more than a little frightened. She was going to kill him.

"All right," Dana finally said in that silky voice he'd learned to fear, "I'm giving you a choice, Fox. You may ride home, bare ass upturned over Thunder's back within my easy reach, or you may walk home with a rope around your neck, tied to my saddle, your chest bared for all who might pass to enjoy. Either way, you still face a harsh punishment when we arrive home."

It was several miles back to the Scully estate, and Fox's feet were already beginning to ache inside his boots. He hadn't given a thought to it when he'd set off after Samantha, but now he realized why they were called riding boots and not walking boots. On the other hand, Lady Dana was probably going to whip him raw when she got him home, and did he really want to face that with an already sore bottom? He chewed his lip indecisively for a moment, and finally muttered, "I'll walk."

"Do I hear insolence?" she demanded warningly.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he responded, more clearly this time. "I meant no insolence, I swear it."

His lady fastened a loop around his neck without another word, tying it loosely enough so as not to strangle him, with a knot that wouldn't tighten as he walked, and then climbed astride Thunder. She tied the other end of his leash around her saddle, and started Thunder off in a brisk walk.

Fox was almost trotting to keep up, and with his hands tied behind his back, keeping his balance was a challenge. He stumbled a time or two, and Dana was forced to slow Thunder so as not to lose Fox.

He plodded along, ignoring the ache in his feet, his head bowed in shame. He was relieve that Samantha was safe, and fearful of what Dana was going to do to him when she got him safely back upon the Scully lands. He shuddered as a mental picture of Isaac, chained in the rain, invaded his memory. Dana would never do that to him. She was stern and strict, but also kind and tender. She would punish him severely, but surely she would never subject him to days of torture, ending in certain death. Nobody was that cruel except Lady Fowley.

Fox wished Dana would yell at him, or scold him, or at least drop a word in his direction, but she sat in stone silence, her back rigid and her face set. Once or twice, he had glanced up at her and tried to work up the courage to speak, but the anger flashing in her eyes kept him silent. At least, at this early hour, it was unlikely that anyone else would happen along to witness his humiliation, he thought, and then groaned inwardly as hoofbeats sounded behind them, rapidly approaching.

Dana heard them also, and with an almost inaudible sigh, pulled Thunder to a stop. Fox silently implored her to hide him in the woods, but she glared at him and waited for the mysterious rider to appear. His head dropped lower, his chin positively grinding into his chest, when he realized the woman approaching was none other than Lady Diana herself. Closing his eyes, Fox willed the ground to open up and swallow him. That she should see him in this state of undress, so obviously enduring a punishment...it was too awful to contemplate.

"So, the rumors were true," Lady Fowley called merrily, drawing her horse to a stop beside them. "My servants informed me there was a stray Fox loose upon my property this morning. I thought I should give the matter my personal attention."

"He is not on your property at all, Lady Fowley," Dana said evenly.

Diana raked her eyes up and down Fox's fine physique appreciatively. He refused to open his eyes, but he could feel her stare, and he blushed even redder than before.

"I do enjoy your method of punishment, Lady Scully," Diana remarked. "Trespassing--"

"Fox was not trespassing," Dana interrupted smoothly. "Indeed, he never left the public road. He is being punished for riding out without an escort, not for entering your lands."

"Well," Diana said after a few moments, still scrutinizing the barely-clad man with a rope about his neck. "Perhaps you should keep him on a shorter leash, Dana. There are those about who would spirit your Fox away, given the chance."

"Indeed," said Dana tightly. "You will excuse us." She urged Thunder onward and Fox was forced to open his eyes in order to retain his balance, but he refused to lift them from the dirt road. He could feel Lady Fowley, still sitting astride her horse in the middle of the road, staring at them as they walked on.

With a sigh, he made his aching feet take another step, and another and another. Farther from Lady Fowley and her evil, and yet nearer home and his punishment. Fox felt well and truly trapped.

By the time they reached the Scully stable yard, all Fox wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for a week, but it was not to be. There was still his punishment to get through. He expected to be tied to the whipping post and beaten mercilessly, but instead, Dana walked him over to a tree with low-hanging branches, and there she pulled Thunder to a halt.

She reached down and untied the rope that bound his wrists, then told him to raise his arms above his head. He did so eagerly, happy to be able to change position, but moments later regretted his cooperation. She tied his wrists together again, this time over a branch, so that he was standing with his arms suspended above his head, helpless once more.

Finally, she cut the rope around his neck, and he took a deep breath.

"Wait there, Fox," she commanded. Slipping from Thunder's back, she handed the reins to a stable girl and stalked off toward the kitchen.

"As if I had a choice," he grumbled to himself, but under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to add to his wife's fury. He couldn't imagine why she was making for the kitchen--surely she didn't keep a whip in there! But as time crept onward, Fox decided she had not gone to fetch a whip at all. Perhaps she intended to merely leave him here, tied to this tree, until he dropped from sheer exhaustion. What seemed like forever passed before she returned, and what looked like a basting brush. Fox eyed her with trepidation as she approached.

"Are you going to whip me, my lady?" he asked weakly. If it had not been for the rope holding him upright, Fox was certain he would have collapse to the ground in a heap by now from fright and fatigue.

"No," she answered shortly, and to his surprise she dipped the basting brush into the contents of the bowl. He peered over his shoulder and saw what appeared to be nothing but plain water. He screeched a moment later when Dana began liberally coating his torso with the cold water.

"What is that?" he demanded, squirming in a fruitless attempt to elude the tormenting brush, which she was now stroking up and down his belly. "Stop, it tickles!"

"Sugar water," she replied calmly, ignoring his pleas for her to stop torturing him. Fox jerked and struggled when she applied the sugar water to his back, howling piteously when she reached the most sensitive parts of his naked torso.

"No, no, not there, please not there!" he begged as she began to dab large quantities of the sugar water in his sensitive armpits. "Oh, stop, damn it, Dana!"

She glared at him. "Your language is quite unbecoming a man, Fox. I'll thank you to stop using words of that nature, else I shall have to gag you."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but please...please stop..." he whimpered as she painted his ribs with the water.

When she finally finished, Fox was dripping with the sugar water, hanging limply from the tree, panting heavily.

"All right," he moaned, "I'm sorry. I've learned my lesson, I swear. Won't you please let me down now?"

"Oh, that wasn't your punishment," his wife told him cheerfully, turning to whistle for Thunder. "That was only the preparation. Since Thunder had to put himself out in order to rescue you this morning, I think it only fair that he benefit from your discipline."

"What--what do you mean?" he asked fearfully, but she only gave him a cold smile.

Seconds later, Thunder trotted obediently to her side, Dana allowed him lick the sugar water from the brush. "Thunder simply adores sugar water," she commented mildly, and after gaining the horse's interest, she directed his eager tongue to Fox. Thunder soon found the disobedient, sugar coated man to be quite to his liking.

"No! No, not that, my lady, please!" he begged tearfully, but Dana stepped back and let Thunder do his work.

The rough tongue slurped hungrily at Fox's sensitive skin, and Fox positively howled with laughter as the horse tickled his back, ribs, belly, and underarms with his tongue. "Please! Oh please make him stop!" Several servants had made their way outside, attracted by the commotion, and Fox found himself begging any and all of them for mercy, but none was forthcoming. The men turned away with sympathetic grimaces on their faces, while the women stayed to watch, enjoying the spectacle of their lady putting her husband in his place.

Thunder didn't seem to have a plan of attack--he would allow his tongue to slurp across Fox's belly one moment, slip around to his sensitive lower back the next, and then work its way up his ribs to lap and the sugar water that dripped from the man's armpits.

Tears of rage, frustration and exhaustion ran down his cheeks, and Fox struggled for all he was worth until his energy finally gave out. Then he simply hung there, gasping for breath between his sobs of tortured laughter, while the horse lapped the last of the sugar water from his body. After Thunder had given a final lick and trotted back toward his stall, a satisfied look on his face, Dana called two of the larger female servants.

"Cut him down," she ordered, "and take him upstairs. Bathe him and put him to bed. I'll deal with him later. Fox..." She grasped his chin to make certain he heard her. "Wait for me in our bed. If I come to our chamber and find you anywhere except in our bed, I'll make you sorry, am I understood?"

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, and leaning heavily on the arms of the servants, he was escorted away.

Upstairs, Fox hadn't the energy to even be embarrassed as he was stripped, washed, and put to bed naked by the servants. A couple of them couldn't resist the urge to caress his most private places, but he was too exhausted to even protest, and once they left him alone, Fox curled beneath the covers and fell into a sound sleep.



Walter listened to Fox's screams coming from the stable yard and grasped the arms of the chair tightly. He was uncertain which of the two punishments he would rather endure. Lady Maggie had marched him up the stairs to their chamber in ominous silence, and the moment they were inside with the door secured she had turned on him.

"Remove your clothing, Walter. Every scrap of it."

Walter swallowed hard and reached for his shirt, slowly drawing it over his head. It was rare that Lady Maggie made him strip off completely when he was being punished, and her command to do so now did not bode well.

He had removed his boots, and drawn his breeches down with agonizing slowness, but Maggie had waited patiently, her eyes icy stones. When at last he stood before her naked, she pointed to the chair, and he sighed. He hated bending over the back of the padded chair while she punished him, and she well knew it. He always felt like a small child, and having the blood rushing to his head seemed to make the punishment seem more severe, somehow.

Wordless, he assumed the position, belly against the chair back, hands clutching the velvet-covered arms, bottom well turned up to meet its fate.

He expected the hairbrush, and was unpleasantly surprised when the first stroke of the strap landed across his behind. "Ow!" he yelled, tightening his grip on the chair convulsively. This was going to be bad.

He was correct. The strap fell and fell, seeming never to stop, while Lady Maggie lectured him about leaving their chamber before sunup, walking about the estate unescorted, stealing of on wild adventures with that young scamp her daughter had married, endangering himself by walking onto the property of a known enemy...the list went on and on, and so did the strokes of the strap, until Walter's feet were dancing on the floor as he tried reflexively to elude the punishing blows.

"Please Maggie!" he begged over and ver again, but she was deaf to his promises to do better, to never steal out of their bed again, to stop allowing Fox to lead him into trouble.

When he had long since lost count of the stokes, and his previously white bottom was a nice shade of scarlet, Maggie stopped at last, and Walter sobbed his relief into the chair cushions.

"You can stay there for a while," she told him firmly when he began to rise from the chair. "I'll enjoy looking at your red behind while I eat my breakfast."

Lord Walter blushed as he heard the chamber door open and the servants enter with a tray for his wife. He tried to ignore their giggles at his predicament, comforting himself with the plan he was forming. This was all Fox's fault, and he swore to himself to get revenge on the boy if it was the last thing he did.

End part 5