Authors: Chanse Lowell
“By being with me. Marry me like you’ve said, and always discuss everything with me. Don’t run. Never run unless it’s for fun in the garden and we’re playing. But never seek out another man without me even if it’s to exact vengeance or to find closure. It’s too injurious to my heart.” His eyes softened, and his breathing was calm.
“I won’t. From now on—I will tell you all. I swear it.” She took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back.
“Kiss me. Don’t swear without those lips sealing it.” He leaned toward her, and she gave him a quick peck since he was driving.
Her hand fell to his lap, and she stroked his cock to life. “I will do nothing but please you—I vow this to be my sole purpose for existing.”
“Fuck—that is the best thing I have ever heard.” His legs both jerked around as she gripped him and tugged on his length through the fabric.
“I love you—no other. You are what consumes me.”
“Yes—love—yes,” he said through his teeth, his neck straining toward her as he kept his head trained in the direction of the road.
“You are nothing like your heinous father. He is the devil, and you are my angel of goodness.” She sucked on his earlobe, purred at his side, and while clutching the wheel tight, he came undone, spurting inside his trousers, a small wet spot leaking through.
His hands pulled on the wheel to the right, so she righted it for him.
It took a few moments for him to completely relax, but eventually he melted into the back of his seat. His steering grew sloppy.
“Should I drive?” she teased.
“I don’t know. Can you?” He wore a lazy grin.
“I’ve never done it before,” she said, biting the bottom right corner of her lip and smiling.
“Let’s fix that now. Get in my lap.”
She frowned. “Will . . .”
“Do it. You shall have every experience. We will practice. I will help you improve your literacy, I’ll teach you to drive and you’ll teach me to be the type of husband you desire.” He patted his lap, then he pulled over to a stop.
She grinned, dropped her head and watched him through her lashes. “Truly? You will help me do all those things?”
“Yes. You please me endlessly, and I wish to do the same for you.” He dragged her up onto his lap, and together, they drove home.
Only . . . when they got there, something was wrong.
There were clothes scattered about on the back lawns and on the bushes.
The back door was wide open, and there were no gardeners about or servants nearby.
“What’s happening?” Clarissa sat up straight.
He turned the motorcar off, and before she knew what was happening, he was out of the vehicle. “Stay in here. Don’t move.”
He ran into the house, and her heart went heavy and squeezed, falling into her gut. She was nauseous again as soon as she considered the fact that his father might have sent someone after William. They might be in there, destroying his belongings and if William barged right in, they might hurt him, too. They might even kill him.
She scurried out of the motorcar and raced after him, scared to breathe too loud for fear she might not hear him if he screamed for help.
Her head throbbed instantly as she concentrated on listening for scuffling feet, fists hitting flesh or even people being slammed around.
She heard nothing but eerie silence.
Her hands went around her throat to choke off her silent cries of his name.
William! Where are you?
What if she made things worse by being in here—but she had to know! If something should befall him . . .
Oh God! Her feet moved faster.
She searched the parlor, the kitchen, even William’s bedroom and her own, but they were all empty.
Scriiiiittttttch!
She jumped in place, pivoted to the left and ran after the noise.
It had come from the servants’ quarters.
She rounded the corner into their hallway and cast her eyes about, searching for that sound.
It wasn’t until she got to Pauline’s room that she gasped.
On the floor, lined up next to each other were all the servants—even the men—all tied up with William’s ropes he had used on her for fun. And each of them was gagged with cotton cloths in their mouths.
They all squirmed and with muffled screams, pleaded with her to help them, but William was not here.
Rather than free them all, she untied Samuel who looked the most upset, and yanked his gag out.
He pointed and said in a gasp, “In the dark room. That’s where he’s taken her!”
William took Pauline? Was that who he referred to? It seemed that was who he had to mean, since she wasn’t in here.
Elizabeth was crying in the corner, her stockings torn at the knees.
Oh God!
Samuel began untying the rest of them, muttering something vehemently to himself. Clarissa flung herself out of the room in search of William and Pauline.
What was happening? Did Pauline lie? Was she the culprit?
But why did Samuel say that
he
had taken
her
?
This made no sense!
Her boots were quiet as she ran on tiptoe—making certain to avoid making an obscenely loud clatter with her boot heels.
She didn’t want to alarm whoever was behind all this. It couldn’t be William. It simply couldn’t.
Her legs slowed down when she got to the door to the dark room. It was open.
She crept around the corner, and her stomach about fell out of her—it was compacted and shriveled at what she saw.
A scene—not unlike the one William’s dad had shared—was before her now.
Only it wasn’t William doing it.
It was Rinaldo’s father—the Italian grocer that lobbed rotten fruit at her and her roommates when she’d been residing on Twenty-Fourth Street.
Pauline’s stockings were torn at the knees and her knickers bunched at her ankles.
Her torso was on top of the whipping table, with her hands stuck in the holes and tied together underneath so she couldn’t flee.
She had lash marks across the backs of her thighs, her ass cheeks and lower back, and it was obvious this man had spanked her bottom furiously since the entire rounded cheeks were both scarlet red and angry looking.
His cock was hard, pushing up against his trousers and he was stroking it through the material. Any moment now she knew he’d take it out, line himself up and get ready to push inside her ass against her will. He was already spreading her cheeks wide apart with his hands, fondling and groping them with a greediness that belied his uncontrollable lusts to hurt her.
Pauline was gagged like all the others, screaming and sobbing, her eyes wide and filled with sheer terror.
Rinaldo’s father didn’t see Clarissa—he was too busy playing with his caught prey.
Clarissa stopped breathing—horrified when she finally saw William.
He was under the table, tied to the legs on the opposite end, also bound and gagged.
It wasn’t until she saw him wiggling around, trying to break free that she noticed him.
He was kind of hidden in the shadows of the table.
Clarissa grabbed the whip that Rinaldo’s father had obviously tossed on the ground.
There was blood on it, and Clarissa winced at the thought of how hard he must have been snapping it at Pauline.
She couldn’t see any blood on her backside, though, so maybe he did this to her front side?
Clarissa picked it up, unaware of how to handle it. So, she went through her memory of how William looked when he’d used it on her before. Chills ran up and down her spine, and she was nauseated.
Could she honestly hurt this man—draw blood?
“That’s it—my little slut. You always loved it when I shoved it up your ass. Just like Sophie did.” Rinaldo’s father bent at the waist for a moment to taunt William under the table. “Oh, yes, that’s right—it was
my
bastard baby. It was s’pposed to be yours. I had her sleeping wit half your father’s staff for fun, but none of ‘em came inside her ‘cept me. And then you, of course.” He shook his head and buzzed his lips. “But Rinaldo was a mistake, too. Too many whores to keep count of, and only two were ever stupid ‘nough to get pregnant by me. Sophie was da worst, though. I hated she got wit child, since she took it up the ass better than any of da others. She loved it. Loved to be beat by me—couldn’t get enough of it. She’d get so fucking wet, she’d drip down her legs. Mmmm.” He laughed with a dark, sickening, gutted sound. “Well, I made sure ta kill dat baby since she wouldn’t do it. Too bad she didn’t make it. I guess I was too rough wit my knife.” He laughed. “Giuseppe Costa does not accept da word
no
from little stupid girls like these ones. All brainless street trash—their only redeeming quality is what lies between their legs, and I wi—”
Whaaaaaap!
The whip flew through the air, and she hit him. Ripped through his fancy dress trousers in fact. Where had he gotten them? He was not a high-born man with money at his disposal. This thought left her when she spotted the dark red mark on the back of his left thigh.
She actually did it. She aimed it and harmed him.
“Ahhhhhh!” Giuseppe howled, grabbed at the spot she hit him, turned and was about to come after her, but she sliced it through the air over and over—hitting him randomly, lashing out as hard and as quick as she could.
It was like a tiger with its claws out, striking at the person in a panic.
“You will not rape her! You will not harm her, you fucking beast!” Clarissa spit in his direction, landing it on his bared feet.
He roared, trying to grab the flying whip in the air, but he couldn’t catch it, and it only sliced through his arms, angering him further.
Slaaaaaam!
Out of nowhere, Samuel launched himself at Giuseppe, knocking him down and he was jamming his elbow up under Giuseppe’s chin, choking off his air as he punched him over and over in the gut with his other fist.
Clarissa scrambled over to William as Samuel and Giuseppe wrestled around on the ground.
She freed William’s hands first so he could help her get himself free as quickly as possible.
Her chest heaved as her heart thundered, and her fingers fumbled with the ropes.
There were footsteps rushing down the hallway toward them.
Two more servants rushed in, covered with red and raw rope marks all over their arms and obvious scratches and fist marks on their faces where Giuseppe had attacked them.
“She’s mine! I do wit her as I like! I own dat tramp!” Giuseppe yelled, struggling to get out of Samuel’s grip.
He clawed at his face, tried to knee him in the groin, but William took over, getting behind Giuseppe and tying his wrists together with the rope that had been around William’s arms.
“Clary, free Pauline and get her out of here. I don’t want you to see this!” William barked, motioning with his head at Pauline, still weeping on the whipping table.
She did exactly as he said, her hands even shakier while freeing this poor creature who had been about to be sodomized in a brutal fashion.
Right before she dragged Pauline out the door, Giuseppe screamed at Clarissa. “You were next, whore! I was clearing out my whores from dat house. They were ratting me out to da police, so I taught dem what it means to keep their mouths shut! You were next—next to take it in da ass and shut your filthy mouth! You are mine, too!”
Whaaaam! Whaaaam, whaaaam. Craaaaack!
Samuel had Giuseppe bound as he stood behind him, and William pummeled Giuseppe until he was screeching and she could hear nothing but bones breaking.
“Leave, Cherry! Now!” William ordered her as he kept pounding his fits into Giuseppe.
Samuel was hauling a struggling, jaw-snapping Giuseppe over to the whipping table, and William was taking a moment to roll up his sleeves and grab the whip.
“You like to hurt people against their will. Well, it’s time you see what that feels like yourself!” William watched Samuel bind Giuseppe to the whipping table, face up.
And right as he retreated so William could whip Giuseppe senseless, she squeaked, “Please, William! Leave him there. Let’s call for the police. They can handle this and you—”
“No!” William’s head snapped toward her, his eyes ablaze. “I remember this man now—coming around here, talking to Sophie out in the garden. He was a servant from across the way.” His voice went up in pitch and broke as tears welled in his eyes. “He tortured Sophie—if I give him to the police, he’ll only fill their heads with false stories, and they might release him. He’ll be back. He’ll always come back.”
Giuseppe started to scream some profanities, and Samuel crammed his mouth full with what looked like a torn piece of fabric from Pauline’s knickers.
“Please, Cherry—leave. I don’t want you to see this, but I have to do this. He has to know he will answer to me.”
“But you’ll only make him even more enraged and filled with vengeance, and then he’ll wind up bombing your home.”