Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) (15 page)

He pushed in further, his cock filling her, and he began to fuck her. His movements were artfully languid, but firm and sure. Her nipples were aching sweetly and she could feel her orgasm growing. All day she had wanted this, all the time they wandered the town, her gloved hand demurely on his arm, she had secretly yearned for this whilst smiling politely at people they passed – people who would have no idea what naughty thoughts were in her head and sensations in her body.

‘You have deserved your release, Elizabeth,’ he said, easing a hand between her legs.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she whimpered, aching for the moment.

‘You may come, my little strumpet,’ he permitted, ‘and move as you wish.’ Taking the flange of the dildo he began to stroke her, keeping the pace slow and firm, deftly in time with his own thrusts. She rocked back to meet him, wanting the feel of everything he was doing, her inhibitions abandoned. The bubble rose and suddenly exploded, and she cried as the spasms shook her. She felt her inner walls pulsate around him and then, just as suddenly, felt his glorious eruption as well.

He stiffened, clutching her hips, riding it out until finally he was spent and his wilting cock slipped from her, sucked completely dry of his manly essence.

She collapsed wearily on her front and he gently withdrew the dildo from between her bottom cheeks. He then went to the bathroom, cleaned up quickly, returned and instructed her to kneel, then removed her blindfold. She was still light-headed and when he told her to hold her breath she was puzzled, but did so, then quickly he removed the silver clamps from her nipples.

‘Good girl, Elizabeth,’ he said warmly. ‘It just helps the pain to hold your breath and prepare for it.’

Her eyes were sparkling and she smiled up at him gratefully.

‘Go and clean up,’ he said, and swatted her rump to get her moving. ‘I’ll be right here when you have done so.’

She was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was take a nap, but dutifully she obeyed.

He stretched out on the bed, savouring the moment. She had done very well indeed. For years he had been searching for that one special female, but though many wanted to call him master, to date he’d found none truly worthy.

It was lunchtime. The weather was pleasant, the days of persistent rain having passed. Lord Michael had told her he would be busy all morning, so she spent the time riding her mare, albeit cautiously, across the wet fields.

‘The ground will still be muddy in areas, and it’s best to take things slowly for a few days,’ he had warned, so she promised him there would be no fast gallops, and she had every intention of keeping that promise. Now she was sitting at the dining room table, waiting for him to join her for their midday meal.

‘Elizabeth,’ he said when he appeared, ‘I want you to put together an overnight bag. Just a few changes of clothes and what little else you need. The very bare essentials, you understand?’

‘Oh sir, how thrilling!’ she squealed excitedly. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Never you mind where we’re going. You’ll find out soon enough. Be quick now; you’ve thirty minutes, and if you’re not down here ready to go I’ll leave without you.’

‘Yes, sir!’ she exclaimed eagerly, and he chuckled at her infectious enthusiasm.

They were soon on their way, seated in the carriage, moving along the road at quite a clip. Elizabeth could not imagine what he had up his sleeve. How did he gain her father’s consent to take her away somewhere? But then, she didn’t really care. They were off on an adventure, and she could not have been happier.

They didn’t travel very far, just to the railway station, and as they boarded a train headed north, she was thrilled at the thought of going on a journey with Lord Michael. He was carrying her overnight bag, and a steward showed them to their cabin, cramped but cosy. It was the first time she would spend the night on a train, and to do so in Lord Michael’s arms – how simply wonderful and romantic!

The steward left them, and she pulled out the few dresses she had folded into the overnight bag, hoping the creases would fall out by the following morning. Lord Michael poured them a glass of champagne each from a waiting bottle, complements of the railway to their VIP customers, and as she turned to face him he held it towards her.

‘Here you are, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘This little excursion is a treat for your very good behaviour last night. Remember what I told you? Good girls are always rewarded.’

She took the glass, smiling merrily, and they clinked and sipped. A whistle blew and they heard the conductor’s voice calling for the last minute passengers.

‘Let’s sit here by the window and have a look as we pull out, shall we?’ Lord Michael suggested.

‘Yes, sir,’ she beamed. ‘This is all such a lovely surprise. Thank you, so very much.’

He just smiled, and they settled in the chairs at the small table by the window.

The train chugged and rattled, and they watched in comfortable silence as the countryside rolled by, drinking their champagne, enjoying the anticipation of the pending excursion.

Then suddenly, and for no apparent reason, Elizabeth began to giggle.

‘What on earth’s the matter with you?’ he asked. Elizabeth thought the question uproariously funny and burst into fits of laughter, and he realised, while she wasn’t drunk she was quite tipsy, the bubbly champagne having gone straight to her head.

‘Hmmm, enough of this for you I think,’ he decided, removing the champagne glass from her hand.

She nodded in agreement, afraid that if she spoke she would slur her words or break into giggles again, but then the strangest thing happened; she yawned, a long deep yawn.

‘My poor, Elizabeth,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You really cannot cope with too much of this, can you?’

She looked at him a little bleary-eyed, and yawned again. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me,’ she managed. ‘I’m so excited but all of a sudden I can hardly keep my eyes open.’

‘Come, off with your clothes, let’s take a little afternoon rest,’ he suggested. ‘Then we’ll be fresh for dinner, and whatever else the evening brings.’

‘Yes, I’d quite like to lay down,’ she said, completely missing the implication of his innuendo. She stood up, but had to grab the table for support. ‘I do seem to be having a spot of bother,’ she said, and despite her abrupt tiredness, giggled again.

He held her by the arm to steady her. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I’ll help you.’ He undid the buttons at the back of her dress and pulled the garment down off her shoulders. Her milky skin appeared, and he marvelled at its satin sheen.

He turned her around, catching a glimpse of her nipples pressed against the light silk of her petticoat, feeling himself hardening and wanting to have her right there and then. But he led her gently to the narrow bunk and laid her down, stripped quickly, then stretched out alongside her. She snuggled up to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He could smell the fragrance of her hair and skin, and she looked so peaceful and contented. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes, felt the rocking movement of the train, breathed her in one more time, and let himself drift off.

It was quite late, but the dining car was still almost full. They were shown to a table, and Lord Michael immediately ordered a second bottle of champagne. He then studied her in silence for a while.

‘How do you feel, Elizabeth?’ he eventually asked.

She smiled back at him, merriment in her eyes, her cheeks rosy. ‘Fine, sir,’ she said. ‘That rest was just what the doctor ordered. I was feeling quite silly before that.’

He nodded sagely. ‘Champagne will do that to you. Speaking of which…’

The waiter arrived with their glasses and chilled bottle, along with a basket of bread, and once alone again Lord Michael took her hands across the table. ‘Elizabeth, in a minute I am going to sit next to you.’

‘Oh, how nice,’ she replied politely, not really thinking much of it.

‘And put my hand under your dress,’ he continued. She stared at him, not believing what she had just heard.

‘Then I am going to caress your thighs.’ Elizabeth felt herself turning red and nervously looked around the dining car to see if anyone else could hear him.

‘Then slide my hand into your panties, and play with you.’ She swallowed hard, wishing she could grab her champagne glass and take a big swallow, but his hands were still clutching hers.

‘When I feel you are about to climax I will stop, but ultimately you will have your orgasm right here at this table. Just remember, Elizabeth, when I finally allow your release, you must be utterly discreet. After all, we are in a public place.’

She still could not bring herself to speak.

‘Elizabeth, do you understand what I just told you?’

She nodded dumbly, wishing to protest but knowing it was pointless, then without another word he stood and eased onto the seat next to her.

The waiter walked by, and she was sure he could see Lord Michael’s hand moving on her knee, searching for a way into her skirt. Then it disappeared from view and she could feel it on her thigh, just above the tops of her stockings. Despite her angst she felt herself growing wet, and could not help but close her eyes, a tiny gasp escaping her lips. Suddenly she felt a sharp pinch and opened her eyes again, a little shocked at what he’d done.

He leaned close, his lips brushing her hair. ‘That will not do, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘You must keep your eyes open and make not a sound. You must behave as if nothing is going on. I will not tell you again. And if you do not obey me I will spank you right here, in front of everyone.’

She stared at him in disbelief. Would he really do such a thing? He was daring enough to be touching her in public, so yes, she was sure he really would do such a thing. She inhaled deeply and gathered her resolve.

‘Yes, sir,’ she whispered, and then took a shaky sip of champagne.

His fingers slid upward, finding their mark, and in spite of her self-consciousness she marvelled at how they made her feel. She gazed across the aisle at an elderly couple. The man smiled at her. She knew her face was flushed, but smiled back, and felt a pinch just as she did so. Her expression froze; she wanted to flinch but she controlled herself, and did not make a sound.

His fingers began stroking again, tight between her thighs, seeking and finding her clitoris, and she felt a rush of sexual energy suffuse her body. It was indeed thrilling for him to be doing such things to her in public. She let out a sigh of adoration, for Lord Michael truly was the most daring of men.

He was enjoying himself immensely. The feel of her succulence was delicious, he could sense her excitement building, and just as the waiter arrived to take their orders he sank a finger into her.

‘What would you like, my dear?’ he asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be doing what he was doing whilst giving their order. She tried to remember what she had decided upon, but couldn’t recall. All she could think about was the most astonishing sensation of him touching her so intimately whilst in such close proximity to so many obliviously unaware people.

‘Elizabeth, what would you like to order?’ he repeated, beginning to withdraw his finger, and the unspoken threat of a public spanking inspired her voice.

‘I-I was just trying to decide between the s-salmon and the ch-chicken,’ she blurted, hoping both were on the menu.

‘Well, the salmon is particularly good,’ the waiter endorsed.

‘Two salmon, then,’ Lord Michael decided, for which Elizabeth was immensely grateful because his skilled finger had lost her the use of her vocal chords once again.

By the time the waiter arrived with their meal Elizabeth was in quite a state of fluster, but Lord Michael withdrew his hand anyway and resumed his seat on the opposite side of the small dining table.

‘Sir…?’ she whispered desperately, left hanging on the brink.

‘Eat your meal, young lady,’ he said uncompromisingly. ‘And you will receive a spanking later for such inappropriate behaviour. You should know better than to beg like a common whore.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied dejectedly, sorry for her conduct but mortified by the severity of his words, ‘I’m sorry, sir.’