Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The Duke is as handsome undressed as he is dressed.
No padding was needed to broaden his shoulders or shape his thighs, and I catch my breath as I watch him disrobe. Part of Madame Atout’s training was seeing the male form, so that I did not go into a virginal panic at the sight, but none of the men she brought in looked anything like this.
He is muscular, with a lightly furred chest that narrows into a line down the center of his stomach leading to the bush around his cock.
The large appendage juts out from his body, thick and long, with a bulbous head on the end.
I make a little squeaking sound at the idea that such a large weapon is somehow supposed to fit my sheathe.
It bobs between his legs as he climbs onto the bed, his dark eyes alight with anticipation.
Madame Atout swears that the size of a man will not matter, but I am not so certain.
Settling on his knees between my legs, his large cock pointed directly between them, he slides his hands up my thighs, making me shudder. But he does not touch my pussy, though his touch makes that spot tingle. Instead his hands sweep up to cup my breasts.
“Oh!”
I knew he would touch me there, and yet the reality of the sensation is shocking. It is completely different from touching myself, or even Madame Atout or Mrs. Fairfax touching me. His hands are harder. Possessive. Hungry.
There had been something more clinical, less invested, in the ladies’ touch.
Not so with the duke’s.
His fingers close around my nipples, rolling them through his fingers and then tugging upward, making me cry out as the rest of his hands squeeze my breasts. It feels so good. Pleasure ripples through me and I squirm against the restraints for an entirely new reason now.
Heat flushes through my entire body as he plumps and kneads my breasts, my nipples pulsing against his firm grip.
“Good girl, Betty,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark and making my belly curl in a manner that takes my breath away. I do not know why I like it so much when he says that, I only know that I do. “Do you know what good girls get?”
I shake my head, biting my tongue and too afraid to answer because I already know what naughty girls get. I do not want another spanking. It would be difficult to give me one, considering how I’m tied, but the little slap Mrs. Fairfax landed on my pussy lingers in my mind.
With a dark chuckle, as if he can hear my thoughts, he releases my breasts and slides further down the bed so that he is no longer above me, but is right between my legs. His head lowers between my thighs.
“Good girls get rewarded.”
He says the words right before his mouth presses against my pussy, his tongue sliding between the sensitive folds.
I cry out again, throwing my head back against the pillow beneath it, as he begins to lick long strokes of pleasure up my slit.
The sensation is so intense that I try to close my thighs around his head, but of course I cannot, thanks to the restraints.
My hard nipples jiggle on my chest, pointing straight up at the canopy as I am held in place, at mercy to his mouth as he licks, sucks, and nibbles at my most sensitive flesh. My mind whirls, overcome by the physical sensations that scatter any thoughts which attempt to form.
It feels sinful.
Wicked.
And oh, so very good.
He teases my senses, my body tightening and shuddering in response to the swipe of his tongue.
The little pearl of pleasure between my legs swells when he sucks it between his lips, and I cry out in protest when he releases it.
Something is building inside me, growing almost painfully, ready to explode out of me.
My toes curl, my fingers bunching into fists as I writhe against his tongue. I want to grab hold of him and press him against my pussy until the sensations complete.
If it were not for the restraints, I might forget myself enough to do so.
“Please,” I whimper, squirming against his mouth. “Please, please, please…”
“Please, Daddy,” he instructs me, lifting his lips from my pussy for just a moment to do so.
“Please, Daddy!”
Those are the magic words.
This time when his mouth descends, it’s with focused effort.
The pleasure that had been built up is already so high, when his mouth closes over my bud and he sucks hard, I scream from the intense sensation.
Pure ecstasy rolls over me, a wave of it starting between my legs and flooding my body.
The restraints hold me in place as my body trembles from the deluge, shuddering, pulling, and unable to move as the sheer rapture engulfs me.
“Daddy!” I cry out again as he sucks and sucks, tugging spasm after spasm from my overwhelmed senses.
It feels so good that it hurts, aching in a completely different way from the spanking, making me sob from the intensity.
Tears spark in my eyes and trickle down the sides of my head into my hair, my breasts heaving as I gasp for air.
It goes on and on and on until he finally lifts his head and my muscles go limp, my head dizzy from the sensual assault.
Closing my eyes, I pant for breath as the little shudders rack my body, aftereffects from the tumult I experienced.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, as if I had anything to do with what just happened to me.
The bed shifts, and my eyes pop open as I feel him above me now, his body over me, caging mine beneath him as his forearms settle on either side of me.
I look straight up into his face, his dark eyes, and our gazes lock as the thick head of his cock presses against my body.
My pussy is still humming, still buzzing from the climax, leaving it exquisitely sensitive as he rubs his tip over my slick, swollen flesh.
I stare up at him, unable to look away from the hypnotic gaze, even though it makes me want to run.
“Don’t stop looking at me,” he orders, as if he knows I am about to close my eyes, to flee in the only way I can.
His hips move, and my lips open in a soundless cry as he begins to push inside me. It hurts. Not in the way the spanking did, but a deeper, more profound ache. I can feel my eyes widen as I stare up at him, pinned into place beneath him, his cock sliding into me and stretching me open.
I have never felt anything like it before in my life.
There is nothing to compare it to.
This invasion.
This intimate pain.
This feeling of a man within me.
He groans, shuddering above me, but he does not look away as he retreats slightly and thrusts in deeper. I feel him sliding against my slick flesh, stretching me open, and more tears slide from the corners of my eyes at the sharp sting as he deflowers me.
“Please, Daddy,” I whimper. “Too big.”
They are the only words I can manage. From the moment he walked into the room, I have been overwhelmed, and now I can barely think.
“Do not worry,” he says, staring at me in a manner that makes me feel like he can see straight through me to my rather sordid soul. “You will get used to it.”
He thrusts again, before I can answer, and I cry out as I arch beneath him. My muscles clamp around him, trying to hold him in place, trying to adjust, but it is no use.
I cannot help but close my eyes as he retreats and thrusts again, sinking deeper into my body.
“Fuck, Betty, you feel so good.” He shudders above me, and this time when he thrusts in, I feel his body settle against mine, his groin rubbing my swollen pearl, and sending a shock of pleasure through the pained ache between my legs. “That’s Daddy’s good girl, taking my cock so well.”
I did not feel as though I was taking it all that well. It was too big. Too hard. It felt like I had no space left in my body to breathe or air to speak. I certainly did not have enough to argue with him.
I whimper as he slides back again, and then he thrusts in hard, burying himself inside me again, rocking his body against my swollen pearl.
The combination of pleasure and pain is even more confusing than my reaction to the spanking he gave me earlier. It hurts and yet it does not. It feels good and yet it does not.
Groaning, shuddering, he begins to move.
If his mouth on my pussy was for me, this is for him.
He is fucking me with hard, long strokes that force me to feel every inch of his thick shaft moving inside me, stretching me open again and again. I cry out, cry, and his tongue flicks the wetness from my cheek, like he enjoys the taste of my salty tears as he ravishes my helpless body.
Every time he buries his cock in me, my pussy spasms as his body rubs against my little pearl.
Kissing his way along my jaw, he eventually comes to my lips, and claims them with his own.
His tongue slides into my mouth, and I taste the salt from my tears and the sweetness from my pussy…
the flavors of my deflowering. My cries are muffled by his lips as this new position has his body pressed against mine.
Every thrust makes my breasts bounce, my stiff nipples rubbing against the hairs on his chest, abrading the sensitive tips.
My pleasure pearl is caught against his body, swelling and throbbing as his hard groin rubs against it.
Though the pain from my spanking has faded, my bottom is so sensitive that it adds another element of sensation as he rides me and it rubs against the towel Mrs. Fairfax put beneath it.
Another climax is building, deep inside me.
I can feel my pussy convulse around his rampaging cock, squeezing him tighter, the sensation of him forcing his way through my muscles sending my pleasure soaring higher. If I had use of my hands, I would be clawing at his back as the need within me grows ever more demanding.
His mouth lifts from mine as he begins to ride me harder, faster, his cock pounding into me while I lay helpless beneath him. My back arches, pussy squeezing as my body shudders, and I scream as passion consumes me completely.
The waves of rapture are relentless, buffeting me this way and that, confounding my senses. My legs tug at their bonds, trying to close, trying to slow the assault of sensation, but it is no use.
“That’s right, Betty. Come for Daddy.” He grunts as his cock hardens even more, filling even larger within me as he slams into me over and over. “Come all over Daddy’s cock.”
My head thrashes back and forth, the only part of me that can move with impunity, as the unrelenting pleasure becomes so intense that I can hardly bear it. Dizziness cascades over me and I am hovering on the verge of a faint when he buries himself inside me for a final time and groans in my ear.
I can feel him pulsing within me, his cock throbbing against my inner walls. The press of his body against my swollen pearl makes my pulse pound in my ears. I gasp for breath as his weight settles atop me, hard and heavy and as overwhelming as the pleasure was.
“Good girl.” He breathes the words into my ear, shuddering atop me as the last of his pleasure is pumped into me.
I do not respond.
I cannot respond.
I can barely think, much less speak.
I feel like I would float up into the sky if I was not pinned beneath his weight.
With a low groan, he rocks against me one last time before bowing his head over me, panting.
I can feel him slowly shrinking. It is a very strange sensation.
Every part of my body feels exquisitely sensitive, even the tiniest touch is acute.
When he slides out of me, I shudder at the loss.
When he bends his head to give one pert nipple a kiss, I whimper.
He pulls the towel from beneath me and looks at its red-and-pink-smeared surface with some satisfaction before using it to clean off his cock. Then he damps a cloth in his wash basin and washes me between my legs.
At some point, though I did not notice when, he must have rung for Mrs. Fairfax. He is shrugging on his dressing gown when there is a knock on the door. I am still bound to his bed, though far too insensible to protest or speak up.
Tying his robe in place, he goes to answer the door, and Mrs. Fairfax comes in.
“I need to dress for the evening,” he says as she spares me a glance. “Is her room ready for her?”
“It is. I have everything handled for tonight, Your Grace,” she replies with a smile.
“Good. Thank you, Nanny Fairfax.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Nanny Fairfax. Because that is what I’m supposed to call her, like I am supposed to call him Daddy.
The Duke moves out of my line of sight. I hear another door open – not the one Mrs. Fairfax came through, but one closer to my bed. I supposed it must be to his closet or another room where he’ll… do whatever dukes do after deflowering virgins.
Mrs. Fairfax undoes the restraints on my ankles and wrists with the same brisk efficiency she used to apply them. I curl into a ball for one blissful moment before she gives my bottom a little smack.
“Up, little girl,” she orders. “You cannot loll about all evening in Daddy’s bed. If you cannot get up, I’ll have a footman come carry you.”
Carry me? Naked?
No thank you.
Somehow, I make my limbs move and manage to get to my feet, only swaying a little. Between my legs, my pussy is still throbbing, feeling sore and tender from the Duke’s attentions.
“Good girl,” she says approvingly, and holds out some fabric toward my head. That’s when I realize she’s holding some clothing for me. I let her dress me in the tiers of ruffles, which go from hip to knee. The top somehow clings to my breasts, despite its girlish fashion.
Taking my hand, she leads me to the door, pulling me with her like a child. I glance over and see that the other door, the one the duke left through, clearly leads to another room rather than out into the hall, and it is firmly closed.
“Stop dawdling, Betty,” she says sharply, turning to look at me, and I recognize the tone in her voice as being very similar to that which she used right before she spanked me last.
Immediately, I duck my head down meekly and pick up my feet. I am far too tired and sore to challenge her right now. I just want to get to my room and curl up and enjoy a little bit of peace and quiet and time to think.
I have no idea what is actually in store for me.