Mistress Agnes Read online

  As she touched his testicles she felt him cringe, that either hurt or he was afraid it would hurt, but they felt good, very nice and soft, so she ignored his reaction and continued stroking them gently.

  The moans had stopped but his hands still clutched the sheet, when her hand, the one holding the shaft of his dick, felt it contract a tiny bit, little shocks at the base of it, echoed in his entire body now, and suddenly her mouth was filled with a sticky substance, hot and salty, frankly a rather unpleasant taste.

  She managed to control herself to not lose her dignity, but she released his dick quickly and grabbed for the bedpan, opening it and spitting the contents of her mouth into it. A cup of water quickly followed, gurgling and spitting, until the taste had more or less faded, though she could still feel a faint burn where it had stuck to her tongue and palate longest.

  Only then did she see the effect of what she had done on her slave. He was in total confusion, still startled by what had happened just before, wrung out by the towering climax she had caused him, and anxious over her extreme reaction. She did not like to see fear in him but she supposed that would fade as he gained physical strength, and yes, the ability to predict her reactions, get faith in her fairness.

  'That did not taste well, did you know?'

  He conquered fear well, for his voice again sounded neutral as he replied.

  'No-one ever did that to me before. I knew it was sticky, of course, but I never tasted it.'

  He was fighting sleep, trying to be polite, that was actually very endearing.

  Agnes knew most men fell asleep soon after climaxing, she just hadn't thought of it. Dennis needed to eat, he couldn't go to sleep just yet.

  'You behaved really well, you let me do what I liked, that pleases me. Didn't you want to touch me back?'

  'I wanted to mistress, but it would have been unforgivable after what happened before. I have no right to touch you, you're a lady, and I'm the worst kind of rabble, not fit to polish your boots.'

  That was way too humble, though in fact Agnes was starting to suspect that

  dignity and humility generally excluded each other, and she might have to choose what she wanted from this man, the slave she had wanted so badly. It would bear some thinking.

  'I will expect you to please me, too, you'll have to touch me to do that. Will you be able to?'

  'Only if you give me your permission, mistress. Forgive me, but I have very little experience with women, I'm afraid I'll displease you.'

  He was so young, so very young, it would be such fun to break him in, but how would she get him to cover her violently if he was so bashful? She had to find the key to release his dominance, she could feel it in him, but it was so carefully controlled, years of repression in the army most likely robbed him of his self-confidence.

  She couldn't help stroking him again, he was so handsome and so sweet. If only she could get him to let go, on her cue, then go back to this shy boy. Her touch caused him to close his eyes, he'd be asleep in seconds, so she shook him a little.

  'You forgot to eat, you need your sustenance. You can sleep later.'

  He opened his eyes obediently but he was already more than half asleep, there was no use insisting, he'd choke on his food if he ate it now.

  'Never mind, love, just eat it when you wake up next time. It's late afternoon, I'll come back in a few hours to help you.'

  The eyes closed again, and as Agnes stroked those lovely cheeks she could see the anxiety leave his features and the innocence return. That was the moment she stopped stroking him, if he woke now he'd be startled all over again, and even a soldier had his breaking point. She would do well to avoid that, if she were to have a chance of bringing out the man in this boy.

  Leaving the tray she walked down the stairs, straight to Patrick and Guy.

  'If you have business with our new guest be careful not to touch him in his sleep, for he has lightning reactions and might hurt you without even being aware of it.'

  Patrick immediately took her hands and looked her over carefully.

  'Did he hurt you, mistress? I never thought he would do that, he was so thankful to be warm and safe. Do you want us to punish him?'

  Patrick didn't sound too eager to do that.

  'He didn't hurt me, Patrick, he woke up just in time to control his reaction, and he awaited my immediate retribution, with dignity I may add. But I decided to spare him, he obviously cannot be held accountable for the

  reflexes of his past life, let us hope they will fade as he settles in his captivity.

  He did get hurt, though, he landed in his collar with his full weight. Will you check on him tonight, Patrick? See if his throat doesn't swell up dangerously?

  Oh, and I promised him a candle.'

  'Isn't that dangerous, Mrs Beauchamp?'

  'He is not the kind to set a fire to escape, Guy. He's more the type for direct action. But I think I'm making progress in winning him, I'm just afraid to win him too quickly and too thoroughly, he's still so young and he has little experience with making love. But I want him to have the candle, he's smart and needs to broaden his mind. He'll have little opportunity to do that in his attic besides by reading.'

  Did that make Patrick look decidedly uncomfortable? What was ailing him, why would he care about keeping a deserter a slave? The man would be hanged if they didn't protect him.

  Dennis awoke with a gasp from a nightmare of being throttled by a French dragoon, but the feeling of being choked didn't let up. Grabbing for his throat he felt the iron collar, uncomfortably tight over a painful swelling, frightening him into frenzied attempts to get it off. Still half asleep, he only succeeded in causing himself even more pain, and for a moment he lay on the bed, gasping for breath, panic waking him but at the same time clouding his thinking.

  The bell, ring for Patrick!

  He stuck out his hand and pulled the cord, then concentrated on staying calm and breathing until help came.

  It didn't take long for soft footsteps to sound on the stairs and like an angel, beautiful Patrick came to the rescue. He immediately saw what the problem was and turned to fetch the mistress for the key, but Dennis panicked when he saw the person he trusted walk away, wheezing and gasping so badly that Patrick feared he'd choke to death if he left. So he sat on the bed and pulled the cord once more, certain Guy would come running, then tried to calm the poor boy down by taking him in his arms.

  'Lie still, Dennis, help is on its way. Don't fight, don't thrash, it will only make things worse. Trust me and let me comfort you, I'm sorry I didn't see to you earlier, the mistress had asked but I expected you to sleep for at least four hours. You did so far, you know. Here, hold my hand, you may squeeze it if you're in pain, share the pain with me to make it less, just keep breathing,

  Guy will be here any minute, and he will fetch the mistress, who will give you a bit more space to breathe. You will be all right, just stay calm and trust me.'

  But Guy didn't come, the mistress herself did, and when she bent over her new man, more like a large boy in his state of distress, Patrick saw real concern in her, and he felt a sudden hope that all would still be well. She immediately fished her key out of a pocket, released the collar, and kissed Dennis on his bare throat, bruised and swollen out of proportion. Dennis took a deep breath, and another one, but he did sound wheezy, and Patrick feared his throat was damaged badly. Lighting the candle quickly to check his colour, Dennis didn't seem blue or about to fade away, and indeed, he swallowed audibly, once, twice, and then the wheeze was mostly gone.

  Seeing that the mistress wanted his spot, Patrick immediately got up and made way for her, and she sat down and took Dennis in her arms, stroking his hair and his smooth cheeks, and looking altogether guilty and rather smitten.

  She was talking sweet nonsense to him, almost enough to make Patrick jealous, though he had a partner he loved this much, and remembering this he merely hoped she wouldn't make Dennis pay for her moment of weakness later.

  Being he
ld by the mistress didn't actually help Dennis, it made him anxious rather than calm, Patrick had done a better job calming him down, but he seemed out of danger mostly, and Patrick couldn't tell his mistress she was frightening him. Or could he? This seemed to be a moment of some revelation for her, maybe he would get away with a few words of advice.

  Quickly, before the young man settled and relaxed in her arms and she would feel the need to tug the rope once more, Patrick bashfully whispered, 'Please mistress, build him up. He'll give you everything you want if you build him up. He's worn down by life already, but you can bring back his spirit.'

  This was indeed the moment, for the mistress now looked at Patrick with sincere affection.

  'Like you built me up, Patrick, when life had me under its heels? I will heed your advice, but I will not let go of my fantasy yet. As soon as the swelling is down, the collar is back.'

  But for now, she apparently indulged in some feeling that Patrick had never seen in her, true dedication, tender love, this was the woman Frederick Beauchamp had married and loved all their short time together, the woman his mistress hid from the world, even from Patrick and Guy, her most faithful

  attendants.

  And she lavished it on some deserter from the moors who was too far out of it to even notice, Patrick did feel a little stab of jealousy now, but not too much, for Guy and himself had a good life with the mistress and Dennis had probably had very few experiences that could be called good in his entire life so far. Let her build him up, and then maybe he would find it in him to rage at her from time to time.

  But Dennis was not as far gone as both his attendants thought. As soon as the collar was removed he stopped fighting for breath and his reason returned. He did feel his mistress' arms around him, and he did hear her sweet nonsense, but he knew that if she noticed she'd hate him for witnessing her moment of weakness, he must let her think he was not conscious of what happened around him, and he succeeded above expectation.

  It was incredibly difficult not to look at her in adulation as she held his face in her bosom and stroked it tenderly, her scent and the memory of what she had done to him that very afternoon were driving him mad with lust, but the certainty of losing every chance at being loved like this every day helped him to keep his eyes shut tightly, and his hands to himself.

  Patrick proved himself to be a true advocate for his cause as well, and finally, with so much goodwill surrounding him and the promise of a better future ahead, Dennis let go of his fears and promised himself to do everything in his power to please the mistress, even if he had to be a totally different person from who he actually was.

  His new friend was right, she'd relent in time and let him be himself, but first he would be the man she ached for, the domineering, violent creature of her dreams. It would mean walking a tight line between obedience and aggravation and he feared he would be made to suffer for behaviour he didn't even want to show, but this was a good place to live and he would do his all to earn the right to stay here. Even if that meant being whipped and humiliated at times, for the love he would get when her moods were like this was something he craved more than anything.

  He'd rather worship her for it, but if he had to rave and suffer first, so be it.

  He had always suffered for nothing at all, this time there was a reward to be had and he was going to do his damnedest to get it.

  Chapter 5

  Seeing her young slave in serious distress had overwhelmed Agnes beyond what she thought possible, and though she loathed showing her weakness before Patrick, she couldn't stop her softer side from emerging full force.

  Hearing the bell ring for the second time she had just known something was wrong, and she knew it had to do with the iron collar. Though the damage hadn't seemed profound right after it happened, and her slave had not shown any discomfort breathing while she was with him, he had jumped into his collar violently and his throat must have gotten a serious blow. She had kept him in a constant state of anxiousness and ardour until he fell asleep under her touch, he probably hadn't noticed himself that something wasn't right, that he was hurt worse than he seemed at first glance. His youth had reminded her of her first love so much, she really had to tell herself over and over again that a private drafted from the streets of town was not the same as the educated gentleman she had loved to distraction.

  Besides, Frederick had ruled her totally, lovingly and with her full consent, but totally nonetheless, and Agnes was not going to ruled again by anyone.

  But she allowed herself her moment of tenderness, she needed it and he would never know, as soon as the swelling was down he'd be back in his collar and at her feet.

  Somehow, that really seemed to offend Patrick, and while it wouldn't change anything for Agnes, she did think his advice, given respectfully and very carefully, was sensible. She would not hold his audacity against him, and she would heed his advice for now, she really wanted to keep this young man but his spirit seemed too damaged to give her what she needed.

  The coming days would be crucial, as he gained strength he should gain spirit, and she would slack his reins a little to give him the opportunity to grow into his role. If he stayed meek he'd have to be replaced, there was no place in this household for another worshipper, there were no more menial tasks to do, he had to pull his weight by delivering her sexual fantasy.

  He did not wake while she held him but his breathing slowed until it was

  clear he was back to a deep, easy sleep. His throat was still swollen, so she ordered Patrick to keep an eye on him and went back to her own business, putting the key back into her pocket.

  As soon as her footsteps had died away, Dennis opened his eyes and searched for Patrick's face.

  'You were awake all the time?' the handsome servant asked, nearly stunned.

  'I was, I thought she'd hate me forever if I witnessed her breaking down, so I feigned sleep.'

  'You are young, but you are wise, my friend. I must admit I was a bit jealous to see you the beneficiary of so much tenderness from the mistress, I never before saw her so devoted, so sweet. I love her, you know.'

  Dennis was formulating carefully and he didn't speak until he thought he had it right.

  'I know, Patrick. And I know you are my friend despite that, which makes me feel very wanted. I've decided I will try my best to give the mistress what she wants, even if it costs me a few humiliations and whippings. I will be working hard the next week to be much more forward than I really am, and I will test how far the mistress will let me go before she checks me. Will you help me to seem more experienced than I am? I have never really made love before, I just rutted in the way of teens and animals, I lack skills I will need desperately to deliver on the promises she made to herself. And Patrick, I may need some support if things go wrong, if I cross the line. Which will certainly happen, for not only does she want the violence, she also craves to put me in my place. I will suffer, but there will be hope to help me bear it.'

  Patrick took the younger but broader man in a tight embrace, and Dennis returned it with all his heart.

  'I'm certain you will suffer and I may even be the one to inflict hurt on you, but I promise you, Dennis, I will make up for it, I will make it worth your while until the mistress herself delivers the love she is capable of. I think you will be happy in her service, but you will have to work for it, even harder than the rest of us. I will talk to Guy, he will be on your side as well, but I have no influence with the others. Dick is a good man but he cannot be trusted with a secret, he's simple, and if the mistress can choose between him or me beating you, I'll offer myself. Dick is strong and jealous of you, he fears to lose his position to you and rightly so. I fear for him as well, though he will always be useful because he does his work well. Please forgive me if I have to hurt you, Dennis, know I find no pleasure in it, but only pain.'

  As if to prove that statement, he kissed him once more, his beautiful, soft mouth touching Dennis' lightly, his sweet tongue caressing the young man's
.

  They kissed with heat, though Dennis felt apprehensive, if Patrick expected to have to whip his friend, what was he letting himself in for? Was this the best decision, shouldn't he just have himself kicked out and try to make it to some town? Why choose another servitude?

  After one day, her slave's throat was still bruised but the swelling was gone, and Agnes personally slapped the collar back on it. He did not say a word, nor did he touch her, but he looked ready to spit nails. As she turned the key and removed it to put in her pocket she dryly notified him, 'You will spend all your time here, bolted to the wall. I've always wanted a slave to serve my every need, and you're him. No-one will look for you, no-one will find you here, you will be here all by yourself, ready to please me at my every whim.

  If you please me, you'll be treated well. If you are bad, I will whip you myself. Are you strong enough to stand?'

  'I am, mistress.'

  He answered politely enough, but he didn't drop his eyes as he talked to her, he looked right at her and his eyes seemed to mock her. Good. She'd let it pass, build him up for a while, until he dared show his dominance, until he got back his violence.

  'Good, do try to keep in shape, there is not much room but I'm sure you know how to keep from growing fat. For the rest, you can entertain yourself with books, I want you to broaden your mind, so if you want others, or writing materials, let me know and you'll have them.

  Now you may kiss me.'

  He obeyed readily enough, but he didn't seem at all reticent to touch her anymore, he put a hand in her neck and pulled her in, then kissed her with ardour, a very dominant gesture she wanted to correct automatically by slapping him or talking to him sharply. But she thought of building up and refrained from action, let him think she could be ruled, it would make getting him back in line so much more enjoyable.