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- Herausgeber: Olympia Press
- Kategorie: Erotik
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
Continuing the adventures of Arabella, Beatrice and Gloria as indentured slaves on Lady Meg Fairlieu's South Carolina plantation. The three beautiful young ladies-in-waiting to the British Queen Charlotte Sophie, sentenced to a three-year term of indentured servitude on Lady Meg's South Carolina plantation, quickly understood their unhappy fate. Their owner, whose vicious passions were insatiable, practices every indignity on the girls, with the threat of turning them over to the huge Mandingo overseer if they balked. How the three girls escaped their bondage and saw vengeance carried out against their tormentor makes for an exciting, sizzling story.
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The Passions of Lady Meg, Book Two
Anonymous
This page copyright © 2007 Olympia Press.
CHAPTER ONE
It was like a hideous nightmare from which, alas, there was no awakening. But it was not the first nightmare which beautiful brunette Gloria Talmadge had experienced in her relatively short life of twenty years. For, as one of the three ladies-in-waiting to the wife of England's George III, the dowdy and vindictive Charlotte Sophia, she and Beatrice Digby, a year older, and the twenty-three-year-old indomitable Arabella Clarisson had defied the sedate and dour regimen of the Hanoverian court by playing a prank on that “fat old sow from Schleswig Holstein,” as the irrepressible Arabella herself had described her.
And a month and a half ago, on a cold May morning at the rear of the palace, in a courtyard, for the crime of having hidden away the royal jewels out of sheer mischief and to cause merriment in a court that frowned upon such levity, these three beauties had been stripped naked, bound to a whipping post, and given the birch by Master Dickon, the royal executioner. Though the execution had taken place at dawn, nonetheless there had been a goodly audience to gape and jeer and to lust over those three delectable, virginal bodies as they were shorn of finery and tethered to the post, there to writhe and caper under the swishing cuts of the birch switches.
Nor was this all. For that crime, Charlotte Sophia had decreed that these hussies should be forthwith dispatched to the royal colony in South Carolina, there to be sold at public auction on the docks of Charleston as indentured bondservants for a period of three years.
That had been the first nightmare, one that would remain indelibly inscribed in the psyches of these three well bred and gentle virgins. But the vengeance of Charlotte Sophia was to pursue these maidens even across the stormy Atlantic. For all three had fallen into the hands of Lady Meg Fairlieu, a sadistic and Lesbian-attuned heiress who had unscrupulously had her revenge on an uncle who had tried to rape her when she was not much more than a child, and had contrived his death as well as that of his wife, so that she could come into her own estate. She was perhaps in her own way even more vindictive than George's royal queen, for she had never forgotten the insult which the handsome honeyhaired Laura Eggleston had pronounced upon her at a party, that the Lady Meg was a pampered, vicious child who needed a sound thrashing, and should have had it much earlier from her poor parents before she came upon the ownership of so vast a plantation as she now had.
Lady Meg had waited her chance. And then when Laura's husband had unexpectedly died, the honeyhaired young widow had found herself in virtual bondage. Lady Meg Fairlieu had cunningly paid off all Laura's creditors and obtained their notes into her own keeping. And she had visited Laura's house one evening with her giant Mandingo overseer, Tuambo, announced to the astonished young woman that she was now a slave, and then had had the black overseer of her plantation flog and fuck the beautiful Laura Eggleston. Now that same victim was a slave to all intents and purposes on Lady Meg's plantation, though ironically given the title of supervisor of the household, but as liable to the lash and the slashes as any unhappy female who toiled in Lady Meg's cotton and tobacco fields.
To such a hell on earth, therefore, Arabella, Beatrice and Gloria came. And on the very first evening of their servitude, Gloria Talmadge was summoned to the boudoir of Lady Meg who wished to inspect her new slave. With her was the Danish slavegirl Dorothea, who had won the role of favorite by lending her body to Lady Meg's lascivious, Sapphic embraces. And when the capricious and sadistic young heiress had commanded the tunic-clad and pump-shod young brunette to kneel down and kiss her limbs and progress therefrom to the dark-blonde tufted oasis of her Qunthole, Gloria had indignantly refused to comply with such an Obscene order.
Lady Meg had therefore summoned Tuambo, and the grinning Mandingo, who was Lady Meg's faithful servant because she doled out to him exactly such tender morsels of female pulchritude as this (she had but recently turned over to his brutal clutches the gentle, lovely Creole slave girl Selene to be his bed-bitch), had heard Lady Meg's command to punish this prudish little fool who dared to refuse an order...
As Tuambo approached the shrinking, naked brunette—Lady Meg's first order to her had been to doff the attractive silken tunic which covered her body just below her pussy, an attire which was obligatory to all household slaves—and when she saw the glittering lust in Tuambo's beady eyes, she had recoiled with a cry of fear. He had savored her terror, and his gaze had devoured the creamy glory of her virgin body, the dark triangular patch of black mossy pussyhair at the peak of those lovely, harmoniously rounded thighs. Clad only in her high-heeled pumps, recoiling against the wall, she had clasped her hands in prayer and implored Lady Meg to spare her. But the vicious heiress, lofting her own chemise up to her titties, had languorously commanded, “Dorothea, the yowling of that little bitch annoys me. Come solace me, my dear one!”
And Gloria Talmadge, even as Tuambo reached for her and caught her wrists in his sinuous black hands, even as she shrieked out for mercy, instinctively believing that her virgin doom was sealed, saw with horror the beautiful, tall, naked Danish slave girl kneel down and, her long slim fingers caressing Lady Meg's belly, glue her mouth to that insatiable cunt and begin to gamahuch her, while Lady Meg lay back, her head pillowed in her arms, arching her loins wantonly to the artful lingual and labial caress of her bed-slave.
“Tuambo!” Lady Meg Fairlieu called, her voice throaty with her approaching lust as her Danish slavegirl Dorothea furrowed her nimble pink tongue against the aristocratic plantation owner's virilely developed clitoris, “when Gloria is ready to obey, you will tell me. And you will leave her in penitence so that she will be in position to execute my order humbly and dutifully, do you understand?”
“Tuambo understand good, Mistress,” the giant Mandingo chuckled libidinously. “You come now, white slave, Tuambo teach you how to obey when Mistress give order. You beg Tuambo to let you obey Mistress, it not take long, you see!”
Then, gloating over the horrified shame and terror of the beautiful naked young brunette, Tuambo swung her up in his arms, his right arm under her calves, his left under her shoulders and his left hand curving round to clutch one creamy tittie and taste the sweet resilience of the naked satiny flesh, heaving so violently in the girl's frantic despair and abysmal shame at having to watch this young patrician heiress wantonly display herself while in the act of being gamahuched by another naked woman... an act which Gloria Talmadge found utterly revolting... an act which, alas, the unfortunate young brunette would, just as Tuambo had predicted, beg to be allowed to commit!
* * *
Gloria Talmadge did not attempt to fight her assailant. His very size terrified her, and she knew that it would accomplish nothing except to enrage him to do her even greater bodily harm than she now dreaded he would inflict upon her. She did not know to what punishment Lady Meg had consigned her, but now that her virgin thighs and bottom had felt the kisses of the birch, that scalding torment and the ignominious humiliation of the lash, before an audience of her peers and under the very eyes of a royal queen, she felt her muscles twitch in dire apprehension of a new whipping. And this, agonizingly she could tell herself, was to be applied by the hand of a Negro, a lusting, massive rogue whose fingers were already fondling her virgin tittie as audaciously as if she were his concubine.
However, her virginity was not yet in danger; Lady Meg would have told Tuambo to possess her and in the girl's own hearing if that had been the case. Moreover, the owner of the plantation had already given him Selene as his bed-slave, and that was gift enough to insure his fidelity for quite some time to come. When it would be again necessary to bribe him into putting down any possible mutiny on her plantation, she could always offer him the tempting cherry of this delicious brunette, or, for that matter, the virginities of Beatrice Digby and Arabella Clarisson.
Gloria closed her eyes, and prayed, which was all she could do under the circumstances. Tuambo grinned, his gaze feasting over the magnificent curves of her voluptuous young body, but fixing most of all at the curly black thatch which covered the petulant pink lips of her maiden cunthole. This treasure he was at the moment forbidden to usurp, but this did not prevent him from anticipating a future enjoyment. He could sense that this young woman was of the same patrician quality as Lady Meg herself, and so he knew that her duties as a slave would grow onerous and force her into repeated disobedience until at last his generous mistress would turn Gloria over to him to be fucked, to be enjoyed like his own whore, with no leniency shown, no depravity spared her.
He strode into the barn-like building where, earlier this same day, she and her two friends had had to strip, be bathed and examined like cattle, and then placed into isolation cells. Just inside the entrance, Tuambo stood the half-fainting naked brunette on her feet, stooped, and, still holding her wrists with one hand, lifted a trap door with the other, revealing a flight of stone steps. For under this squat and sprawling edifice which housed the new slaves, the laundry, the medical infirmary and other facilities made for the general welfare of household slaves, there had been constructed an ingenious and imaginatively finished series of dungeons where recalcitrant and rebellious slaves could be punished in privacy and at the full leisure and lustful inclination of either the overseers or Lady Meg. We have already seen how this vicious Lesbian sadist summoned her Danish slave Dorothea to one of these chambers and had Dorothea make love to her while she watched Tuambo break in poor Selene. She did not now accompany Tuambo to witness the punishment of Gloria Talmadge, because she knew that in due course the indentured bondservant would be begging for a chance to obey the order she had just refused... and she intended to let poor Gloria Talmadge wait in dire suspense and anguish until she deigned at last to take this avowal of fealty and humility.
“You come, no tricks,” he growled as he jerked at Gloria's wrists and made her descend the steps behind him. Whimpering, her eyes dilated with her terror, her beautiful firm pert-tipped bubbies erratically rising and falling, the naked brunette went down the steps in her high-heeled pumps, and the atrocious fear of stumbling in this unusually awkward footgear—for the heels were much higher and more tapering than she had been used to back in the court at London—so that already, in advance of the punishment she was about to receive, her ordeal had begun.
When they arrived on the subterranean landing of the cellar floor, the scene was ominous enough to add to Gloria Talmadge's fears. Two torches, soaked in palmetto oil, and fixed into metal brackets on each side at the middle of this narrow corridor, illumined massive stone walls and heavy oakwood doors with thick hinges and locks. There were about five dungeons on each side of this corridor, and perhaps two small comfortably furnished chambers on each side as well, these being not only for Lady Meg herself but for some of her perverse guests who equally enjoyed witnessing punishment being inflicted on a comely naked female... for, needless to say, at Fairlieu Acres, punishments were always carried out upon the naked flesh. Even Laura Eggleston, who occasionally was reprimanded by Lady Meg, had to stoop, flip up her short tunic and see that it did not fall back over her jutting bare bottom, as she grasped her ankles to endure as stoically as she could half a dozen stripes with a thin, Malacca cane or a hickory switch.
Only the enigmatic and mature beauty Mercedes Jeffries, who had medically examined our three heroines, had thus far escaped regular punishment. But she had only made her compromise, and she had lent her body to Lady Meg's pernicious Sapphic lusts to escape the humiliation of a whipping. Lady Meg savored applying the whip herself, as was well known; but most of all, she luxuriated in the humiliation which she caused her mature victims by flogging them in the presence of either other slaves or the Negro overseers. Young Kijaniro, a tall lanky Furlani in his early thirties, was almost always present at the tallying sheds in the cotton and plantation fields when it was punishment time at sundown, and when the helpless slavegirls had to bring their baskets to the weighing scales and there be judged as to whether they had met their quota for the day. If they had not, swift retribution followed; no excuses, no pleas for mercy ever prevailed. They were ushered unceremoniously into the punishment room at the back of the shed, and there one of the handsome female overseers applied the paddle, strap, cane or birch or switch, depending on her own sadistic preference, under the glittering eyes of one of the four Negroes on whom Lady Meg placed so much trust for the maintenance of order and the suppression of all rebellions at Fairlieu Acres.
Tuambo rummaged in his loincloth with his left hand, still maintaining his grip on Gloria's slender creamy wrists, extracted the key to the punishment cell, inserted it in the heavy lock and turned it. The shingles creaked, another sound to strike terror into the already anguished heart of the beautiful naked brunette virgin. The Mandingo ruthlessly shoved her inside the dark dungeon, slammed the door shut, then strolled down the corridor to take one of the flaming torches and to return, again unlock the door and enter, and thrust the torch into a metal bracket to the right of the door.
Gloria Talmadge, who had fallen on her knees from the rude shove Tuambo had given her, uttered a cry of consternation at the grisly sight which the eerie, flickering torch light revealed to her widened eyes.
In the center of the room, she beheld a heavy wooden pillory, its rectangular crosspiece hinged so that it could be opened and the victim's wrists and neck inserted therein, then closed to lock her into helplessness. But Lady Meg Fairlieu had added her own perverse refinements to this classical apparatus, which Gloria had recognized in the market squares of London where often drunkards and prostitutes were set for an entire day to endure the jeers and the peltings of rotten eggs and fruit at the hands of the eager populace.
The floor around the pillory was strewn with thorns, briars and sharp pebbles; and the pillory itself was not more than four feet high. This meant that a victim confined within its yoke would have to bend forward, thus projecting out her buttocks to the lash all the more defenselessly and in a posture which incited the whipper to display the utmost skill.
In the corner to Gloria's left stood a medieval wheel to which a girl could be bound, either facing or with her back to the executioner; the wheel was made of wood and it was studded with tiny little spikes and protuberances carved out of the wood by a master artisan. To be stretched on the wheel alone was torture enough, but to have the nipples pinched with heated metal tongs, or the insides of the thighs pricked with long sharp needles, one of Lady Meg's favorite sadistic nuances when dealing with a female culprit of great beauty and sensitivity, became an unspeakable martyrdom.
In the opposite corner was a low whipping bench, with a special cushion in the middle, formed like a dome. The victim would be placed over this bench with her belly and loins arched up against this dome, her wrists and ankles tightly strapped at the ends and her body thus tautly presented for the whip. But the dome was covered with scratchy horsehair and strewn with gravel and pebbles and thorns, so that her wrigglings under the whip would cause her tender flesh to friction against this atrocious cushion.
In a corner to her right was a sawhorse with an extraordinarily sharp ridge; straddled over it and secured by wrists and ankles and with a waiststrap which buckled tightly, the helpless naked victim would feel this ridge against the valley of her breasts and against the tenderest spot of all, her cunt. Lady Meg enjoyed seeing a full bosomed, buxom girl strapped on this infernal apparatus and given a birching with a slender rod profuse with twigs and fresh green buds, which would make her wriggle and gyrate in the most lascivious way, producing one can guess what diabolical suffering from the ridge.
And finally, in the other corner, there was a whipping ladder. It was solid and fixed into the floor with hooks soldered into metal rings set into the stone flagging itself. The victim would ascend to any step desired by the executioner, but of course as she ascended, her legs would be spread exaggeratedly, thereby giving greater access to the tenderest regions of the anus and cunt. Lady Meg was particularly fond of this device, which had conquered the prudish virginity of an extraordinarily beautiful young wife named Margaret Jenson, then twenty-four. The young woman's husband had been slain at sea in a duel with a Spanish galleon, but the fortunes of war were such that she had been traveling on the Spanish galleon with her handsome young spouse, a blue-blooded Marquis from Barcelona. The English privateer which had bested the Spanish galleon in open battle made prisoners of all survivors, and Margaret Jenson was brought back to Charleston, placed on the auction block much as Arabella, Beatrice and Gloria had been this very day, and sold to Lady Meg Fairlieu.
Margaret Jenson had been a tall, serenely beautiful, gentle-voiced and very erudite daughter of a London physician. She had fallen deeply in love with the Marquis and had been married to him just two years at the time of her capture. She had been a virgin till she had fallen in love with her handsome Spanish suitor, and she had discovered the ecstasies of heterosexual passions in his manly embrace. But conversely, she loathed and abominated the mere thought of the factitious sex between women; and so when Lady Meg had, struck by her brown-haired beauty and the voluptuous ripe-bosomed, full-hipped glories of her body, commanded her to kneel down and gamahuch her, Margaret Jensen had angrily refused.
She had been stripped naked and taken into this very dungeon, placed on the whipping ladder with her arms tied high above her head and given ten strokes of the cane on the lower curves of her bottom. Magnificently stoic, she had still refused, whereupon Lady Meg had had Kijaniro make her ascend to the next step with ten more lashes, these applied on the tops of her hips. She had endured forty cuts, till she was perched on the fifth step, and bent down over the other side, so that her head dangled to the floor, and her arms were fixed by heavy cords to the rungs below. In that pose, her bottom shamelessly upreared, her thighs spread hugely, the plump pink fig of her cunt winked like a lascivious eye at the sadistic Negro overseer. Taking a braided whip, he had first cut her across the middle of her bottom, drawing a frightful cry of agony from the young woman, but she had still valorously refused to do Lady Meg's bidding. But the next two lashes sent the braided tip of the whip darting right into Margaret Jenson's cunt, and from that moment on she became the most avid gamahucher on the plantation. Only a month ago, Lady Meg had sent her over to the plantation of Betsy Lattimer, a simpering golden-haired aristocrat who shared Lady Meg's perverse passions for Sapphic pleasures and whose aunt, a handsome and desirable woman in her mid-forties, Lady Moira Denton, was teaching her niece the cruel joys of sadistic punishments for their slaves....
Tuambo stood, hands on hips, smirking down at the cringing, kneeling naked brunette, savoring exactly what was going through her mind: her dread at what was to happen to her, and the added fear of not knowing exactly what would be her lot and to which of these demoniac devices she would be tethered.
CHAPTER TWO
The Mandingo overseer now approached the terrified naked brunette, seized her by the wrists and dragged her over to the pillory. Gloria Talmadge burst into tears, as she helplessly and passively let herself be brought before this fearsome apparatus. Lifting up the top section, he roughly ordered her to put her arms into the two small yokes and then to bow her head, whereupon he promptly drew the top piece down and locked it into place. At once she discovered the shameful and at the same time painful features of this imprisonment device, used almost invariably for flogging. Since it was only four feet high, it meant that she had to bend and thus thrust out her buttocks at an elevated angle. But thus far the unfortunate naked girl stood on the stone floor which had not been strewn with its torturing array of pebbles and thorns; and thus to her startled terror, she heard a creaking sound as the giant black took hold of the crossarm of the pillory and, exerting his strength, turned the post a slow and complete circle, forcing Gloria willy-nilly to move over to the area which had already been thus prepared so cruelly.
Squatting down, he dragged off her pumps, and Gloria uttered a piercing cry of pain as her tender naked feet bore down upon the pebbles and the thorns and the other scratchy and probing substances which the stone floor of the dungeon was strewn.
Grinning like a fiend, the giant Mandingo straightened, and his eyes ferociously eyed Gloria's creamy body. The unfortunate captive, in strain to bend her head and shoulders down because of the immutable grip of the pillory yokes, tried desperately to shift her bare feet to some less painful spot, but of course she could not; over an area of some five square feet, the stone floor was covered with these irritants. Hardly had she lifted her left heel off a stinging thorn when she set it down upon a jagged little pebble, which drew a new cry and the most involuntary and lascivious contortions of her bare legs and hips.
Satisfied at her plight, to which only the prolonged suspense of awaiting the first kiss of the lash was needed, Tuambo moved to his left where there was a panoply of whips, a veritable arsenal, from thin cravaches with braided thongs, to martinets with three, five and even seven long tapering lashes, pinewood paddles of various sizes, some with holes pierced through the middle to add emphatic impact on the plumpest curves of the female bottom, long and swishy and murderously flexible rattan canes, and other sinister flagellatory instruments, like a cat-of-nine-tails and a broad, thick black leather strap fitted to a short wooden handle. In addition, in a brine-filled bucket in the opposite corner and behind the now dolorously bent-over naked brunette, there were half a dozen birches of varying sizes and thicknesses awaiting use.
Tuambo now selected a short thin whippy rattan, glancing back to verify his decision considering the firm, delightfully rounded contours of Gloria's ivory-sheened bottom. The cane, which was about three feet in length and not quite so thick as a pencil, permitted him to whip her at short range and to “touch up” a specific area of her buttocks and thighs and hips. Because of her intense beauty and virginity, he wished to be as close to her as possible, though of course he was not as yet permitted to impair her major virginities of anus and vulva. But he well knew that with his skill, and in the atrocious suspense and pain which the unfortunate victim was already suffering from not being able to see what was about to befall her, from being compelled to stand with her tender bare feet on the scratchy and piercing debris purposely placed on the floor to disconcert a sufferer, from her own shame at being stark naked before a Negro, and finally from the exquisite pain that would be inflicted by this rattan, that her enervation would compel her to do many involuntary things that would satisfy his lust and yet not break his pledge to Lady Meg to keep the girl inviolate. There was nothing, for example, to prevent him, under the threat of additional strokes to such tender regions as the insides of her thighs and even her naked titties, to compel her to kneel down and perform the act of fellatio upon his enormous, swollen phallus. And what she did not know was that this sentence which Lady Meg had pronounced enabled him to divide glorious punishment into two [...]
