Kidnapped and Bound: Kidnapped, Book 2 (2 page)

“You will be needing this, sir,” the coachman said, holding out a blindfold.

Lord Grange reached over for it.  I panicked and struggled violently, not wishing to be blinded to my fate when he put it on me.

“Sorry, little one, but the Viscount doesn’t want too many people knowing where he holds the meeting of his pleasure club for the rich men of London.  Many men still seek to recover their wives and daughters from his harem and those sold as brides for profit.”

Marcus finished tying the blindfold at the back of my head.  I sobbed and fought to untie my hands, terrified by the darkness.  I was to feel helpless and very afraid.  How could the man I had loved for the last year treat me this way?  But as the coach moved off towards our destination once more, I knew there was no opportunity for escape.  What was evil was to befall me in the hands of the Viscount?  Was there no man who would come to my assistance?

The carriage drove deep in to the forest and in to the night.  Eventually it travelled over gravel and came to a rest.  My blindfold remained, but I could hear male and female laughter and what sounded like a ball.  Lord Grange left the carriage and then reached in to take hold of me by the waist.  Within moments I was being lifted up over his shoulder again.  I heard his footsteps crunch across the gravel, and my heart was beginning to pound with heightened nervousness.

The door of the house creaked open and the happy voices grew louder.  A voice belonging to a man said good evening to Lord Grange as he trotted easily up the steps carrying his burden.  I tried to moan against my gag in the hopes of attracting some assistance in my plight but no one answered.  It seemed no one wanted to help me.

“Please, Marcus, let me go.  Don’t I mean anything to you?  I could have given you money,” I mumbled against the gag as Lord Grange carried me inside.

“Too late, my love.  You might be rich in property and wealth when you marry but not enough to pay back my debt,” he chuckled.  “The Viscount has more than enough money.  He desires female flesh as payment and nothing else will do.  You can help out by sacrificing yourself to save my life.  After all, that is what true love and marriage is all about, darling.  Now is the time to step up.” He gave a small laugh, but I was startled when I heard the plea in his voice.  It seemed Lord Grange did indeed fear for his life and was more than willing to sacrifice my own for it.

Tears gathered in my eyes once more.  My despair spurred a strong feeling of anger, and I began to kick and struggle over his arm.  There was no one to save me and I had to fight if I was to survive this preposterous ordeal and secure my freedom. 

The sting of a sharp slap to my already sore buttocks through the thin dress did little to force my compliance and I bucked against his shoulder all the more.  Marcus held me tighter and ceased walking.  He spoke to two men and then I heard one of them knock on a door.  The door opened, and I was carried through.

The room was filled with the rich tones of passionate lovemaking in its most primitive form.  I heard a man grunt his release as a woman panted her own rapture in time with him.  I was surprised to find the animal sounds arousing even in my captured state.  Disturbed by my rising feelings of need to see and experience the sounds and feelings of viewing the couple lovemaking, I intensified my struggle all the more.

“Now, now.  What have we here?” an older man spoke with humour in his tone.  No doubt this was the formidable Viscount himself.  Age and dominant authority bespoke his station in life without viewing him.  My mind argued with my senses to still my movement, to be humble and obedient to the man to ensure my safety, but my reckless, passionate heart would not hear of such an idea.

  Anger flared hotly within my constitution, forcing me to kick more violently at Lord Grange to make him put me down.  I would face the Viscount alone and with dignity and I would ensure success in negotiating my release.  I have always been a stubborn girl, and able to appear fearless, when the situation demanded such behaviour.

“I brought you a present, Blake,” Lord Grange said. He swatted my bottom hard twice and I squealed but in no way would I stop struggling.

“Ah, this must be the beautiful Lady Gerard.  I have been dying to meet you.” The voice of Blake Ryan, the Viscount of Blackney, was strong and authoritative.  It made me more than nervous.  “Put her down, Lord Grange, and let’s have a look at her.  Take the blindfold off and the gag.  My, she’s a feisty thing,” the Viscount said with glee.

I felt myself being lowered to the ground and the blindfold quickly being undone.  The gag was to follow.  Lord Grange’s movements were clumsy and erratic in nature, betraying his apprehension and desperate need to please the man.  I made the action as difficult as I could for him with my incessant struggling.  Even another cruel hard slap to my buttocks, even though I cried out, did not stop me.

I blinked in the dimly lit room to find myself standing before three sitting men.  Casting my eyes over the three gentlemen sitting elegantly with their legs crossed in bronze and cream Bergere chairs, my eyes came to rest upon a young handsome man of around 22 years, just two years older than myself.  He possessed dark swirling eyes that captured my gaze and held it firmly in place.  His hair was light brown with strands of silky caramel blonde woven through its gently curled texture.  His countenance wore a superior, perhaps some would say arrogant, expression, yet when he looked upon me his high aristocratic features softened.  I fancied I saw a momentary flicker of anxiety for me cross his beautiful eyes.  Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

His stern but strangely protective gazed fixed upon me with intense scrutiny, bringing my movements to an abrupt halt.  He quite took my breath away and brought me to heel in a heartbeat.  I felt my cheeks blush with heat when my sex dampened unexpectedly as though to make me slick and pliant for his pleasure alone.  Not even my anger and fear at these feelings, which so perturbed me, could tear me away from the hypnotic way in which he held me still and to attention.

Only the Viscount’s voice was to divert my gaze when he spoke to me with authority.

“Come, child.  I want to see you more closely.”

The bulbous man stood from his chair with his cream waistcoat and emerald green velvet coat straining at the seams.  I fancied his breeches might split; they were stretched to breaking in trying to accommodate his abundance of flesh.  A large, wide finger lifted my chin.  I struggled in Lord Grange’s hold and the Viscount grinned painfully, lifting my chin higher.  He looked upon me with greedy green eyes as though I was some delicious gourmet food he wished to lustily consume with his fingers.  I shuddered and closed my eyes, unwilling to hide my disgust at being touched by such a vile man.

“Yes, a feisty one.  Good for marrying and breeding.  I love taming a wild spirit like yours, my dear, with a sound whipping.” The Viscount grinned accentuating his fat cheeks and the wild appearance of his fair curly hair.  I decided he was probably a young man of thirty but his unfortunate appearance and reddened countenance made him seem a man of forty or older. 

“She is a stubborn filly.  I think this pretty damsel will require at least two hard paddle spanks a day to break her obstinate will before you will be able to stable her with ease in your collection, Blake,” said the third man sitting in the chair on the Viscount’s left.  “Perhaps a birching is required and a spell of being kept naked as a mount in your horse stables chained to the wall on all fours.  She’ll soon calm down when she gets cold and has taken a few mounts from your men. You’ve done it before and the girl surprised you with taking a liking to it.  I hear she is your most doting and obedient filly yet.  I say try it with this one.”

My mouth twisted with disgust at his treatment of the woman and her own liking of it.   In turn, my stomach churned with fear that I might experience the same fate.  I glanced at the brown-haired man.  His countenance wore a dark, disapproving expression, offering me further hope he could perhaps be persuaded to help in my rescue.

I opened my mouth to offer the man and the Viscount an indignant, determined retort, but the Viscount surprised me by reaching around me to give my covered bottom a hard spank with his hand.  My body bucked and I cried out.  Lord Grange was indeed right; the viscount did have a heavy spanking hand.  I closed my mouth quickly when he looked at me fiercely.

“Hush your tongue, girl.  Speak only when I allow it and not before.”

The Viscount’s loud voice made me jump and to my shame, tremble.  To mask my fear, I glared at him with the obstinacy I was being praised for by his friend.

Then, nervously, I glanced at the dark-eyed man.  I had not mistaken his gentle concern for my welfare.  It was there in his eyes, gleaming once more.  Yet when I gazed upon him in earnest it faded.  He had not yet spoken and offered an opinion as to my character or appearance.  A part of me appeared to be affected by his omission.

The Viscount began to talk to Lord Grange of his debt.  I took in my surroundings.

The room was a long rectangle decorated in coquelicot with a beech wood floor.  My eyes widened with surprise when I viewed five four-poster beds positioned in a row against the long wall behind the men in the chairs.  The man and woman I had heard reaching orgasms when I was first brought in to the room were naked on top of a bed decorated in sumptuous emerald velvet and silks.  The woman’s legs were spread wide and raised, displaying her pubis and secret depths to all.  Her sex bore no hair and was clean shaven.

I gasped, putting a hand to my mouth as I viewed the intimate scene, never having seen a man and woman naked together before.  Neither had I seen a woman’s sex so open, so bare and vulnerable to wanton male penetration.  My own sex stirred as I watched the man grip the woman’s buttocks tight, forcing a delighted needful cry from her lips.  The young man mounted her clean and fast with the skill of a panther, embedding himself inside her to the hilt with one sharp stabbing thrust of his cock.

My clitoris began to throb and ache.  I had wondered so often how the act would look.  I watched for a moment, trying to fathom how it would feel to have a hard male member thrust so deeply inside my vagina.  It appeared painful yet my need to be penetrated and claimed in a similar fashion with deep ardour by a man made me ache so much I wanted to rub myself to ease and soothe my need.  Just as I had done in my bed alone when such feelings came upon me.  I bowed my head with shame, but the sound of a man’s voice giving firm instruction to a woman, audible above the passionate grunts and sighs of the lovemaking couple, drew my attention to the beds once again.

Two beds down the line, a young man still clothed in a red coat and cream vest was positioning a naked woman on all fours.  Her hair hung long and dark, the colour not too dissimilar to my own after not having time to have it dressed.  She wore a gold collar just like all of the other women fawning over men in chairs and beds with their naked bodies, making me wonder if they were not slave collars.  The man pushed a firm hand into the small of her back, forcing the front of her body down on to the bed, crushing her breasts on top of the emerald velvet bed linen.  The woman’s vulnerable pale bottom thrust out at him provocatively.

He reached to the side of the bed where several implements had been placed on a small trestle table.  One of them was a riding crop.  The young man was handsome with light brown hair and a muscular appearance.  He picked up the crop and flexed it between his hands, casting his eyes down upon it with approval.  He was no more than 23 years, yet when he adopted a firm strikingly dominant stance and struck the girl’s vulnerable bottom in a wide arc, he wielded power and authority like no man of such a young age I had ever seen before.  The scene left me in awe of the man.

The girl cried out in surprise.  It was evident she had not expected to be whipped but taken in her anal entrance.  Perhaps that was to come later.  Although I was shocked by my own assertion, something primal, a deep sexual wanton nature, surfaced inside me.  I did not understand it.

Jumping every time the man struck her pale vulnerable bottom, I watched him whip the girl to his satisfaction.  Her fleshy bottom rose with her cries of pain to meet the strike as it came towards her.  The whole scene was profoundly erotic on a level I could not understand at that moment.  Yet I had known the fluttering of this strange need for discipline when Lord Grange had bared my bottom and so cruelly taken me to task with a spanking in his carriage earlier. The feeling emerged again even when the repellent Viscount’s heavy hand had struck my buttocks to enforce my obedient silence.

I continued to jump with each echoing sound of the leather disciplining the girl’s bare bottom as if the man struck my own buttocks.  Lord Grange began to sell the attributes of my body as though I were an object of consumer desire. 

The dark-eyed man slouched with ease in his chair, watching me intently.  I couldn’t help but view him with confusion.  I felt warmth and safety flood my mind every time I looked at him.  But Blake Ryan was to draw my attention away when he ceased talking to Lord Grange and addressed me directly.

“You are very beautiful, Lady Gerard.  Quite a prize.”

He made me feel quite feel nauseated, the way he laughed and wobbled his large stomach in his ill-fitting clothing.  The Viscount took another long drag on his clay pipe and blew the smoke in my direction as if assessing the price he should consider me worthy of fetching.  He viewed me lustfully with his greedy green eyes.

“I need to see more before I can give you a price for her.  Your debt is big, Lord Grange, and if you don’t pay it, there will be heavy consequences.  I have killed men for owing me less.  But then we are old friends and I am willing to be more lenient.”

The Viscount’s voice became serious.  Its tone was hard and laced with menace, making my heart pound.

Lord Grange began to bleat, bow and coo to the man, desperate to convince him I would be worth more than enough to pay back his gambling debt.

I stared open mouthed at him.

“Undress her,” the Viscount commanded.  “I am not saying what she is worth until I examine all of the goods,” he said with a sickly smile.

I froze on the very spot I stood, terrified to be stripped in front of all of the men in the room and examined.  Intolerable fear rose inside my mind, dismissing any hopes of rescue.  I decided to fight for survival on my own.  The moment Lord Grange reached for my dress I began to kick out at him for all my life was worth.