His for the Taking

WRITTEN BY TAWNY TRICKSTER

All Europe was abuzz with talk of war as Christmas 1914 approached. The young master had gone to London to join a cavalry regiment, convinced it would be an adventure. Melanie had a secret crush on the young master but as a housemaid the chance of him even noticing her were slim, no matter how often she fluttered her eyelids and flashed a glorious smile in his direction.

She was thinking about the young master this morning, how dashing he'd look in his new uniform, imagining him sweeping through the wide front door, stamping snow from his shining boots, before coming for her... Lost in a daydream Melanie's arms reached out and knocked the crystal decanter over on the dining table she was supposed to be cleaning.

The crash was loud and immediately brought her to her senses. Unfortunately it also brought several of the other servants to investigate, and the master of the house. Melanie didn't see the onlookers as she was kneeling down attempting to pick up all the pieces. Suddenly she was hoisted bodily up from the floor and shaken. The master's hand was wrapped within the fabric of her dress and his strength was holding her aloft.

"How dare you!" he snarled at her, his face close to hers, "You will be severely punished for this!" He dragged her through the house, her feet barely touching the ground; the fabric of her dress was stretched very tightly across her breasts as the master continued to bunch it in his fist. He took her to the cellar door and thrust her inside. The cold from below wafted up the wooden stairs. He pushed her down into the dark.

As her feet touched the bare earthen floor the immediate shock wore off. She felt like she'd not taken a breath for hours, she gulped in the cold air, her chest heaving. The master had followed her and was lighting one of the oil lamps, it flickered and cast deep shadows across the empty space.

Melanie started to sob with fear. She'd heard stories of the master's punishments whispered amongst the other staff and these came back to her now, filling her imagination with all sorts of nightmarish thoughts. The master grabbed her dress once more, this time ripping it open. He roughly pulled her over to where a rope hung from an overhead beam. "Hands!" he shouted to her but she didn't understand what he meant.

"Your hands girl! Hold out your hands!"

She held her arms out, trembling. He grabbed them in one large hand and whipped the rope around her wrists before she could think. The rope was rough and very uncomfortable, it chaffed against her delicate skin, a dark feeling of terror rose up from the pit of her stomach as, unseen behind her, he pulled the rope lifting her arms high and leaving her standing almost on tip toe.

She started to cry, she couldn't help herself. Here she was, tied up and at the mercy of a man she feared, a man who could be capable of anything. She could see her breasts through the tear in her dress. As if he could read her thoughts he suddenly ripped the dress off her upper body, leaving her open and exposed. He stood there, looking at her, assessing the beautiful form he'd revealed, looking for flaws and finding none. A new look came into his eyes, one that Melanie disliked even more and hated herself for both recognising it and the tiny feeling of excitement that shivered through her body.

"You've been very naughty Melanie," he said, moving closer, "Very naughty. And I can't let that sort of behaviour go unpunished."

She shook her head gently in mute appeal. The master reached around her and undid the clasp in her hair; it tumbled down her back, its glorious colour shining in the lamp light. "Better, much better" he said.

The rope around her wrists was really hurting now, Melanie felt faint from the pain. "Please...?" she asked nervously, "Don't hurt me."

The master acted as if he hadn't heard her. He continued to admire the feast before his eyes, striding around her. He was now behind her. His rough hands grabbed the remains of her dress and pulled it down, revealing the rest of her body, her flawlessly smooth skin glowed in the lamp light, driving the master to new heights of lust.

She felt his hands on her behind, parting her cheeks; a finger ran down between them and continued between her thighs. She couldn't control the involuntary shiver. Whack!

"Stay still girl!" he roared as his hand smacked her hard again. "You will do what you're told and take your punishment!"

He continued to spank her, his hands hard against her soft flesh, each blow stinging and making her tense herself up ready for the next, the smarting pain sending shockwaves through her. Eventually he slowed down, she could no longer feel each individual blow, they merged into her heartbeat and pumped through her body like a bell tolling. A new sensation struck her, the master was now caressing the red flesh, kissing each glowing orb where only moments before he'd inflicted terrible pain on her. His lips felt so sweet upon her. Again she felt that finger run down and down and between her thighs, this time there was no shiver, she welcomed it, she was eager for whatever he wanted to do next to her. The finger reached further and started to caress her, gently rubbing her, a fingernail flicked her clitoris and she gasped.

"You like that? he said, "You'd like more?"

She nodded eagerly, whimpered to him, "Oh yes please master!"

He was pressed up tightly against her now; the pressure of him against her behind woke tiny slivers of pain on top of the receding waves. That questing hand reached further, started to slide inside her. She was wet and the feel of first one finger and then another in there made her gasp, he'd started a fire and was fanning the flames, she felt so incredibly hot. As those fingers explored deeper and deeper, rubbing and flicking and caressing, he laid a sharp slap on her left cheek. It was like an explosion inside her, she didn't know which way to thrust, her whole body felt like it was melting in the fire he'd created deep inside her, she squirmed against him, against the rope, against the pressure building up inside her. His fingers thrust into her now, his arm rubbed between her thighs, his other hand continued to rain blows upon her pertness as she felt something growing outward ready to engulf her, to swallow her up in an ecstasy of pleasure and pain.

When the explosion hit she cried out, she was stretched out on a warm sea with a desert sun beating down, alternately burning and being washed by waves of pure pleasure. As the feelings subsided slowly and she once more became aware of the rope and her position the master was in front of her, kissing her sweetly and embracing her, his strong arms enfolded around her naked beauty and making her feel safe. He untied the rope and she attempted to cover herself with the remains of her dress. Suddenly the thought of the young master crossed her mind but it had virtually no effect. He was only a boy but the master was a man and today, she was all woman and all his for the taking.