Created Wednesday 27 April 2011
Young, beautiful and virginal, Lady Rose Greville goes to London and the court of young Tudor King Henry VIII in hope of becoming a lady-in-waiting and determined to find a rich and powerful man who would take her as his mistress, in exchange for helping with her family's debts.
But almost immediately, her sponsor is arrested for treason and she must find her new lover quickly or be forced to leave. She soon becomes ensnared in the deadly politics of the Tudor court, and through the plots of Sir Francis Bryan, becomes the mistress of the whip and cane loving Lord Bexley, whom Sir Bryan would destroy. As Lady Rose takes part in unrestrained sex and voluntarily suffers extreme punishment in order to please her lover, her innocence and honour are both her greatest asset and her fatal weakness, a weakness which could lead to her death.
Come and visit the dark and erotic side of the glittering Royal Court of England's Henry VIII with the innocent Lady Rose.
He nodded slowly. "My mistress must willingly bear the rod and the lash and all other forms of punishment, nay torture, save those that would leave a lasting wound or injury. She must do so without a great outcry or the need to be bound or chained. And finally she must be able to cheerfully entertain me in bed in spite of having just suffering such inflictions."
Like any child, I had suffered the corrections of my parents when I was disobedient or wilful, so I was not ignorant of the feel of the rod, but again I had the thought that he would not be satisfied with laying the rod on my back or my fundament. I put this to him as a question.
He said, "Indeed, I would spare no parts of your body save those that are visible when you are fully clothed."
I smiled wryly and said, "But there are perhaps parts that you would favour over others when wielding the lash or rod?"
Lord Bexley slapped his thigh and laughed heartily. "By god I like your spirit, madam. Once again you have seen right through me. I must confess an inordinate fondness for the breasts and the cunt. There, I have directly named that part of your body. Have I mortally offended you?"
I shook my head. "Having regard to the topic of our discourse, I do not see how a simple word such as "cunt" might offend. In truth, having to say "privy parts" many times during a conversation is painful to my tongue, which might best employed for other purposes." I spoke thus with deliberate intent, knowing that he would understand the reference to the French style of love.
I lay on my back and guided him on top of me with his loins above my face. I said, "My Lord has been gentle with my frail woman's body, but now I would have you satisfy your desires. I shall fill my mouth with your mighty lance, which will silence my screams, and I give you full reign to sport with my cunt in any manner that may meet your fancy. Crush my clit with your strong fingers, pull and stretch my inner lips in every which manner, and use my newly opened sheath as roughly as you wish. Spank and beat my cunt to your hearts desire. All the while, I shall tend to your needs down below as tenderly as any lover might do." I bent and spread my legs, pulling my knees back towards my shoulders so that my loins were lifted and opened in the most lewd manner possible.
He kissed my cunt as if it were my mouth and said, "So be it. Prepare yourself, for I shall not stop until my seed fills your belly." He sighed as his lance found its rest in my mouth once more. I felt his fingers part my nether lips, and then my legs trembled as he sucked my clitoris and the soft parts that surrounded it into his mouth. His lips and tongue worked on it as if he were consuming an oyster. My clit swelled and stood proud of its surrounds, naked to the lapping of his tongue. At first I felt great pleasure, but I knew that this could not endure. He cunningly waited until I fairly shook with pleasure, and then he allowed his teeth to close around the base of the tiny stalk, trapping it with their fearsome grip. He bit down on my most intimate flesh, and I screamed around the meaty shaft that filled my mouth, fearing that he would indeed bite off that tiny morsel.
Even as I spoke, I knew that I was being foolish, but still I said, "Why should I scream? Is your tool so terribly deformed?" His hand struck the side of my face, throwing me backwards. I tripped on my skirt and crashed into a finely crafted table. Fortunately, the thickness of my skirts shielded my thighs and my corset saved my back from being torn by the shards of the vase that was smashed between my body and the wall. My head rang from the blow, but I did not raise my hands except to push myself away from the wreckage. His face was twisted in rage and his fists were clenched as if he would strike me again. I could taste my blood leaking from the inside of my cheek where my teeth had cut it, but I stared at him as calmly as I could. Of course, I knew that this was a game that I could not win, but I was not going to surrender without a battle. My only advantage was that he wanted to rape, humiliate and torture a lady of quality, and if he beat me into a broken, senseless wreck, then I would not be any different from the whores he found in Southwark. He wanted to see my helplessness, fear and shame. Therefore, unless I forced him to it, he would toy with me as long as possible before breaking me with the rack, blades and hot irons. It might have been better to force him to kill me as quickly as possible, but no sane person embraces death gladly unless they seek martyrdom or to protect a secret. I sought neither, so I fought for every second of my existence.