"Yes, you may come, if you wish..," he had advised you seemingly noncommittally the previous evening. You , however, knew that there was an unspoken command in those words. So, here you were outside his library - his normal morning residence. You pushed the door slowly and walked in through from the hallway into the book filled room. You observed books lining the many shelves from floor to ceiling, with periodicals scattered on several side tables. You paused to appreciate a title or two and, realizing that he would scold you for delaying, moved quickly towards MiLord.
"Good morning, MiLord," you murmured, slipping your head round the door.
"Good day, my lovely," he smiled, looking up from his book. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, MiLord," you replied." Pretty well, thank you and...Sir...did you sleep at all ?"
"Yes, I did," he laughed, "but, with the duke continually threatening beyond the pass that is a rare occurrence for me. The all night sitting is becoming a habit. I hope that the lonely waiting was not too tedious for you?"
"Tedious? No, MiLord," you replied, remembering how you had explored the many rooms of the chateau, until you just could not keep your eyes open any longer. Your glances had excited rare comment among the servants and you were sure that the knowledge that you were roaming round his domain again, secretly delighted him. You looked at him cheekily, thinking how little he knew of your spirit and how you needed it to be subdued. You were only just beginning to recognise the way he channelled and directed the ethereal power within you to give you an outlet for wicked expression.
He would occasionally reign you back when you got out of hand and then surprise you with a different yet still happy encounter in this strange land. You knew that he did not mind a teasing submissive so long as you were also a pleasing submissive. You thought about his way of speaking and grinned at the quaintness of his expressions. The smile became a frown as you remembered how, sometimes, you did not quite follow his meaning as he leapt down a new avenue in pursuit of a new train of thought or on another ribald expedition.
"You are lost in thought, dear?"
You looked up pensively, distracted by the fancy binding on a book that you had noticed on your way in. You were not sure what the contents were. The language was strange and the volume looked ancient. Libraries were to you so beautiful, so powerful and so informative about their owner. You could see that there were hours upon hours of reading packed into the pages that lined those walls. You were a little taken aback, finding this gathered knowledge a bit awe inspiring. He had told you that he had a love of books, a love of knowledge and a thirst for it too.
"Lost in thought, MiLord, no," you eventually answered. "I am just astonished to see so many tomes in this room."
You stepped up closer and settled to your knees at his feet ,thinking of how you planned to visit his library often. He looked down at your to stroke that lovely head of hair. You leaned your head to the side to enjoy his soft caress, knowing how such gentle touches say more than any brutalisation of a submissive. Can you help smiling as you enjoy the nicer feel of such a caress and compare it inexorably to the sting of a whip. He patted his knee, thinking that it was neither fitting nor comfortable for you to stay at his feet too long. Obediently you rose up and settled into his lap, sinking deep into the folds of his gown. Your hip pressed into his lap as you relaxed into his embrace. You lay your head upon his shoulder and gazed around the walls again.
"Do you learn to like the chateau then, m'dear?"
"Yes, MiLord," you affirmed. "It is growing on me."
You looked out at a smooth paving stones that lined the courtyard outside, through the French windows. You wondered if you would soon be able to sit at his side there, watching and gazing down at the port below. It would make a change from looking up at the hills that filled much of the vista from your chamber's narrow windows. You looked up at him noticing the smooth line of his jaw and following it up towards his ear. Pause now as if listening and then stare audaciously up again. Watch his eyes sparkle as he speaks of the lands surrounding the chateau. Think how looking out of those windows is like gazing into a picture frame. Understand that here in his county, his creation, each window was like a work of art.
There were ports, hills and beauty limited only by the imagination surrounding them. The light shone through the windows at that moment onto his green eyes. It sank into your clear gaze - the windows to your soul, a poet might have declaimed and his febrile sentiment would have been duly mocked. Every window was a picture and every picture told a story. You were impatient to learn more and asked whether other vistas might be offered to delight you. Reluctantly, he explained about the grounds and the woods, warning you of the brigands who lurked there. Your eyes closed. Your thoughts drifted under the spell of his mellifluous voice. Then they refocused back into the penetrating eyes of MiLord.
"Do not stray beyond the bounds I set you," he intoned sternly... "not without escort and protection."
"What are brigands, MiLord....and where are the bounds? Past the clearing? Into the woods MiLord?"
He knew you were teasing him, but could not resist a lengthy and erudite explanation of the varieties of brigands who frequented the outer reaches of his lands. Just as they did, he was always testing the boundaries and threatening your unwary, straying ideas. He knew you were constantly on the look out for spoils, just as they sought the precious ladies from his palace. There were wolves too - known to have a taste for female flesh. You shuddered as he reached his arms around your to reassure you in a hugging embrace.
"Fear not, my lovely," he murmured. "There are no bounds to this realm save those that you and I and the other inhabitants choose to set."
You listened intently to the outpouring of words and thoughts and ideas and began to learn that you would come to trust him in time. He cupped your face in his hands and gazed at your complexion. You smiled obligingly, letting the escape of breath breeze over your lips. You were aware that intelligent and witty women were a thing of beauty to the Master, but were secretly pleased to learn from him that though many called on him in this palace, few were ever chosen.
"So that would mean your bell pull is out of order, MiLord?"
"You play with my words you naughty pet," he laughed
You smiled brightly, a wicked sparkle in your eye: "Oh no, MiLord, I was just wondering."
He set you down at his feet again and as you looked up, like a child at him, he told you of those who had left to lead happy lives disassociated from this place. He told you how they had been there long enough for them to learn something of Miramur and him to check their origins. You realised now why on the corridor where your chambers lay there were so many doorways.... Doorways leading to many nameless destinations from what had once been the nameless castle of the duke. You learnt how they tarried for a while, giving mirth and good company at his fireside before being shown to the port and offered passage to travel in distant lands. You smiled and wriggled in closer to MiLord, whispering your origins in his ear. He smiled remembering how he had wandered through that same distant land as a rather loose and very flirtatious minstrel. You rested your head again upon his shoulder and moved in closer, your nectarous lips pressing up against the warmth of his skin. He told you how he had been a drumming troubadour, travelling through distant lands before settling in this haven, doing dull work to sustain his life and his fantasies.
"Goodness," you laughed. "I was courted by a drummer for a long time.. well.. long at the time...he played a mean tambour."
"How very ingratiating for you," he responded sourly. "Yes, indeed, a drummer. It gives one strong arms for the chastising of cheeky female bottoms."
"Yes....," you continued, oblivious of the perilous road that you trod. "Yes, I remember well.... his forearms."
"And as for his back arms?"
You laughed and then paused looking at his stocky build, his heavy set shoulders and his powerful arms. You considered how handy they could be for embracing lovely wenches such as yourself and for chastising those who fidgeted excessively. You returned to his lap at a glance from him, and he allowed himself the pleasure of running a hand down the small of your back. You trembled slightly as his fingers moved along your back and wriggled as he touched your bottom lightly.
"I trust the welts from earlier do not itch still?"
"They are insignificant now MiLord, but they are still there," you whispered dolefully, remembering the implement in his hands as those same hands smoothed over the welts over your clothes.
"MiLord..on reflection..may I stand?"
"Of course -- perhaps a little soothing cream might help?"
You slipped down from MiLord's lap and stretched like a cat. Then turning your back towards him, you peeked over your shoulder with a coy smile. He motioned for your to lay down over on the sofa, watching your push gently at the silken white fabric of the robe worn over the bare skinned girl. It rested, draped softly over your shoulders. You nodded and acceded graciously to his instruction to remove the robe. He stood and followed you as you walked towards the sofa, letting the robe slip further. You permitted him to see the curves of a strong back, hips gently curving out catching the silken garment just as it slipped to the floor. Yet you knew the permission that you granted was the permission that he gave you to grant. As you bent, you made sure his gaze encompassed a well rounded backside. Your own. His own. You picked up the robe to fold it carefully, seemingly unaware of the turmoil that you had caused in the library.
"W-What a lovely sight," he eventually managed to stutter before taking command again to commend the pet's prettiness. You shook your head like a sapling bowing the gentle wafting breeze of his complements, enjoying the sweet tease of the silken ends brushing over the exposure of your back. The shoulders rested as your hands smoothed over your skin, turning towards him to sit back into the sofa. You blushed and thanked him quietly, looking down at the floor.
He ordered you to lay on your belly, so he could soothe your as he had promised earlier. His hands were soon soothing well toned thighs, creamy white skin, warm with the rush of energy throughout your body. You lay forward feeling the sensitive tips of your breasts touch the sofa's velvet covering. He knelt down by your side and kissed your forehead gently. He looked up and down your pert body, wondering at your lovely form and thinking it was a fair wind that brought this lovely creature to his shores. You rested your chin into the back of your hand and sighed responsively as he let a hand slowly run down your back, touching and caressing. Loking looked down at your hands , you saw the well painted fingernails, not too long, a creamy gold colour, setting off your complexion. You needed distraction to fight off the urge to arch up into the sweet caress, a burning passion always simmering deep within you.
"Don't you paint them, while we delve into matters of the flesh," he warned as he sensed the ripple of your muscles. You relaxed. Rather prettily, you pressed your hips into the sofa, listening to the sound of his breathing. Then ,smiling, you wondered if a pedicure was out of the question. He reached down and fetched your bottom a sharp slap for such teasing ideas. As ever he gave your zest added sting, before reaching for an herbal salve at the side table. Touching the cool cream to your rounded hindquarters, he watched your flanks shiver with the cold sensation -- so very nice. He slapped you again, chiding you for being a wickedly, bad girl and you were forced........after due consideration......to nod and agree.
He looked over towards the cabinet at the martinets, floggers and assorted canes and paddles -- meaningfully. You followed his gaze, unsure what half the interesting objects were. You brought your knees up under yourself your face still pressed into the welcomingly receptive sofa cushions. He recommenced smoothing the cream into your backside and advised you that you would find out their purpose in due course. He wanted to hide the fact that he had only recently learnt of their use himself. He ran a finger down the soft crack between the rounded hills of your bottom cheeks. He paused, gazing at the pleasant aspect -- almost as picturesque as the view from the dining room, where you might play in the fullness of time.
You turned so that you could look towards MiLord, smiling as the enthusiastic and yet lethargic caress trailed over your body. He rested a finger on the delicate pucker between your nether cheeks and pressed in. You rolled onto your side, smiling to distract him from his fixation and he turned to take more salve from the pot, running his fingers across the fading stripes on your backside. He paused and you turned again to lie on your back. Your hands were clasped over your head, stretching and then relaxing them together on the centre of your stomach, looking anxious and hoping that the salve would not stain this lovely sofa.
Slightly concerned, you lifted up your bottom and spread your thighs as he slipped a hand down to rub your inner thigh. He did not equivocate and was soon cupping your sex in his palm, letting you go quietly deep within yourself to realms alien to him. He stroked the furred mons and stood to move down to your lower regions. He paused again before running travelling hands up and down the willing waiting thighs, hips, calves and lovely ankles. Bending down to place a soft kiss on your deliciousness, he listened to your breathing. You began to blush as he moved closer, your exposure seeming rather overwhelming. You closed your eyes to shut this thought out and just relaxed into the sensation that pulsed through your body. You inhaled deep and slow, the only sound in the room save a chirping lark singing the beginning of summer outside the window.
He reached under your frame to touch the rounded breasts that lay crushed against the sofa. Your fingers gripped the edge of the sofa pillow, in anticipation, fearful of your apparent excitement being detected. Again , he cupped the softness in either hand -- they fit his palms well -- overflowing at the edges, like jellies freed from their moulds. He pulled his silken shirt over his head and tossed it to a nearby chair. You looked back to admire his torso and moved over as he sat down next to your, perched on the edge of the sofa. Again his palm traversed your curvaceous form, pressing your down to sink deeper into the sofa. You swayed, leaning slightly forward -- then back as he rubbed your slowly. He reached a hand around your neck -- lips coming down to hers and making to kiss your passionately -- a kiss that you received openly and willingly. You savoured the brush of moist lips to one another.
His tongue slid between your lips and teeth, teasing you. Your mouth became his, responding with passion as your glorious breasts are pushed against his chest. Your breathing rose to a new crescendo as your arms wrapped around his broad upper body. You wanted him now -- wanted to pull him in closer, lifting you ever nearer. He moved to kiss your cheeks, your chin and then descended leaving butterfly kisses along the arching neck, hearing the soft purr and seeing the eyes closing as your mind followed his path. He reached down to take the bud of your left nipple in his mouth to soothe it with licking and teasing.
He tasted the morsel and moved now to the tempting ,yet neglected twin. You raised your back, surging with excitement that seemed to thrust directly through your core. He raised his head to kiss between your wonderful breasts. He placed his ear against your rib cage to listen to the steady rhythmic palpitations of your heartbeat. You brought your feet up into the depths of the sofa, knees bending as you felt his slow descent continue now over that smooth stomach, that soft belly, and the silken mound. His lips engaged the tangy saltiness of your flesh as his hands remained cupped around those proud breasts, holding them and playing with the erectile tissue, delighting in his latest acquisition.
Yes, he had taken ownership of you in giving you love. You gazed down at the top of his head as your body whimpered in anticipation. The excitement moistened your further and you allowed him to part your knees with some reserve and timidity. His head descended to parted thighs to lick and kiss and give the girl a pleasuring there with his practiced mouth. You moaned softly as MiLord's lips deeply kiss the precious treasure, your mind swirling with unconstrained delight. He lapped at the moist haven, circling a tongue around your love bud.
Your knees spread further, thighs trembling with the feel of such stimulation, almost virginal in your delight, glutinously vaginal in its betraying secretions. The moisture wet a path along your crevices making you so very aware of the frisson of delight that added to your shivering excitement. You needed him, needed to touch him, but you fell back gasping as his finger found your little love bud. He removed the finger and licked, sliding his eager tongue back and forth to find your most sensitive points. As he circled your bud with his finger, you began to moan or was that his own desires giving vent. He really couldn't tell which, for his ears were part blocked by the squeezing of your thighs. Rocking your pelvis, you rejoiced as his lips mesmerising your sex, tricking waves of delight to course through you.
You knew it wouldn't be long before you would give way to an outburst and your heart raced forward, the palpitations outpacing your very thoughts. You gripped the locks of his curly hair, beginning to ride that wave upwards, fearful lest the tongue rolling within you stopped its stroking. Your body so open and exposed, but at that moment you would do anything for MiLord. You look at him wordlessly. begging him not to stop. You whimpered as you moved closer. You began to hump his fingers, making them slide in and out of your body. Your moans became bestial grunts.
The pace accelerated. Both your hands held his and pushed them hard into you. Your head rocked down and then back against the sofa. Your hips arched upwards. He could feel you compressing and releasing, as you reached that point, your voice trailing into an all consuming keen. You shook your head from side to side -- so close and he whispered into your ear, his lips teasing you, his hands conjuring your sultry whirling body...and advising you, finally:
"Yes, you may come if you wish..."
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