"Come, my pet, and get up," he said, taking her hand, and helping her onto the base. "Now, remove your garment so we may make the necessary adjustments." She complied as he lowered the crosspiece just slightly and carefully bent her over it, then raised her up again and lowered the bar a bit more. "Now, try bending over it again," he told her, and when she had done so, he nodded, satisfied. "Stretch your arms out,

Lucinda, and let us see where the manacles are to go." She obeyed, and in short order found herself neatly constrained. The manacles, however, were lined in thick, soft lamb's wool, and therefore did not chafe her. "Lastly," he said, his hand smoothing over her bare bottom, "we must affix your feet into the foot clamps. Spread your legs, Lucinda, wider, wider, ah, that is perfect!"

She felt her legs restrained, but as she was wearing her slippers, and the foot clamps, like the manacles, were lined, there was no pain. The position she had now attained was one of perfect submission to The Master. "Dare I ask what you mean to do now?" she laughed nervously.

"Ah, you are concerned," he said. "This is why I decided we must practice on the chance I cannot save you. You don't have to be afraid, Lucinda. It is just a rather colorful means by which you are prepared to be fucked. First, of course, you will be strapped with a good Scottish tawse. Spanking doesn't do for a lady so restrained. Let me show you the leather." He moved over to a chair and lifted what appeared to be a belt from it, but upon closer examination she could see it was much broader. "It is six inches wide," he said. "It has been split four inches up into half-inch thongs that have been tied with small knots. It will not break your skin, but it will, used properly, heat the bottom nicely, and prepare you to be fucked. Indeed, if you respond as I believe you will, you will be most eager. Shall we begin, my pet?"

"Wait!" she cried. "If I must submit to this before the Devil's Disciples, who will wield the tawse?"

"I will," he assured her. "I should not allow any of them to do so. Men not used to such devices have a tendency to become over enthusiastic in the application of punishment and harm their victims. That is not the purpose of it. The function of the tawse is to arouse, with the intention of making the recipient excited and ready to accept a good sturdy cock up her cunt."

"I see," Lucinda replied, but she thought it really quite un-necessary, and said so to him. "After all, if a woman loves a man, she is eager to make love with him. She needs no stimulus other than her passions."

"I agree," he said. "Out there are those men who don't, either because they need to see a woman humbled by such punishment, or the woman herself is cold, without desire, and needs such harsh excitement to be aroused. The gentlemen of the Devil's Disciples are jaded in their tastes. This sort of drama pleases and excites them. In the event I cannot prevent your ravishment before them, you must be prepared for what I will have to do. Are you ready now, Lucinda?"

She swallowed nervously, and said in a small voice, "Yes." She heard the sound of the leather as it swung through the air to make firm contact with her bottom. It stung her, and she squealed. A second, and a third blow made contact. She felt her flesh beginning to grow warm. The narrow, knotted thongs peppered her hapless flesh, causing it to feel as if it were afire. Lucinda bit her lip to prevent crying out.

"Don't try to be brave," he advised her. "They will like it if after a few smacks you begin to howl a bit." He laid the leather across her bottom again.

"Ohhhh!" Lucinda cried out, half in jest, half in hurt.

"Excellent, my pet," he approved, and gave her two more hard spanks with the tawse. Then he reached beneath her furry quim, pushing a finger between her nether lips. She was already moist, but not yet wet enough. He caressed her buttocks four more times with the tawse while Lucinda sobbed most convincingly. A brief second inspection of her privates now told him she was very ready to be mounted. Tossing the tawse aside, he loosed his male member, grasped her hips, and slid his love lance into her juicy cunt. Her bottom pressing into him was hot, the skin a deep pink. "Ahhh, that is good, my pet," he groaned as he sank into her.

"Ohhh, yes!" Lucinda agreed. "It is delicious, Master!"

"Do you want to be fucked?" he whispered wickedly in her ear. Then his tongue tickled it, and his breath came hotly.

"Ohhh, yes!" she replied. "I want to be fucked, Master!"

"And so you shall, my pet," he told her. Then he began to piston her slowly, his big cock pushing deep, withdrawing, then pushing into her once again.

"Faster, you devil!" she cried. "Faster!" She could feel the long, hard love lance delving within her love passage. Instinctively she arched her back slightly, the muscles within her hot pathway tightening about his thick cock, holding it prisoner a moment, then releasing him.

"Ahhhh, Lucinda!" he cried out. "You are killing me with your magnificent sweetness." He relinquished his hold upon her hips as he lay over her and reaching down grasped her breasts in his hands, fondling them most desperately.

It was all too much for Lucinda. The tawsing had brought her to a level of excitement she had never before attained. His hands on her breasts only increased the thrill. The relentless pumping of his wonderful cock set her to moaning. She soared with the most absolute, and perfect pleasure she had ever known. Her body shuddered violently, and she came, her juices seemingly endless in her delight. One conscious thought remained. He had to save her!

The Master felt her crowning the head of his hungry cock with her juices. With a cry he released his own, his hands squeezing her breasts hard before moving back to grasp her hips, to piston her a final few times before he lost himself in her incredible sweetness. He had to save her!

He lay bent over her, panting for a short time before he slowly raised himself up. Lucinda was half-conscious, hung over the Maiden Tamer, in a posture of complete submission. Only her breathing indicated to him that he hadn't killed her. He began to undo her bonds immediately.

"Are you all right?" he asked her anxiously, and pulling her free he picked her up, carrying her across the Great Hall.

Seating himself in a chair, he cradled the semiconscious woman. "Lucinda! Speak to me, my pet! Are you all right?"

She sighed a deep sigh of utter contentment and slowly opened her deep blue eyes. "Of course I am all right, Robert," she told him calmly. "Why would I not be? Ohh, my darling, that was the most marvelous fuck I have ever had! The bar is a bit uncomfortable on the middle, but it was all worth it. You do not, however, have to spank me to arouse me, although I will admit to you that the novelty of it was most stimulating." She reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers toying mischievously with his mask. "You are a wonderful lover, Robert. Why do you allow the fact you have small funds to keep you from marrying? This estate is a wonderful place. I could live here the rest of my life, never again see London and be happy. Certainly there is some girl you might love who would do the same for you alone."

His heart almost broke. She could be happy here. She was happy here. He loved her, but he could not for honor's sake admit to it. "There is no one," he said stonily, and then he tipped her from his lap almost impatiently. "Put your gown back on, Lucinda. There is nothing more I can teach you. Go, and get dressed, and we will ride."

"When is the full moon?" she queried as she slid the night garment back over her naked body. It had to be near, she knew, for she had been watching the waxing of the moon each night from her window

"In three days' time, my pet," he told her.

Three days. She had three days left with him. Three days of this most glorious summer before she must participate in a ridiculous episode that she was actually dreading. She wasn't fearful of being made love to, but what her three suitors wanted of her wasn't love. It was revenge for making them the laughingstock of London society at last spring's season. She wished now she had never gone, except if she hadn't, she would never have met the man she now loved so desperately that she was almost tempted to admit her love to him. But she couldn't. If she did, and he reciprocated her feelings-and she suspected he might, for why else had he decided to save her- would it not give him great pain if his plan, whatever it was, didn't work? If she had to submit to the duke, the marquess, and Lord Bertram before a leering crowd of gentlemen? Lucinda had never felt nearer to crying in her entire life.

The next few days passed more quickly than she would have wanted. They spent the time together, riding out over the fields, now summer-weary. He showed her the ungelded male yearling that was being sent to Turkey. It was a beautiful young animal the same rich chestnut color as her hair. It snuffled an apple from her hand, its soft muzzle tickling her palm. At night they made passionate love together, but he still departed for his own chamber lest the temptation to see his face overcome her while he slept.

"You swear to me on your honor that you will come to London to the Whitley ball," she said. Then, "You can obtain an invitation, can't you, Robert?"

"My friend, Lord Bowen, will arrange it, my pet," he told her, kissing her brow. "Is it that important to you, Lucinda?"

"It is the most important thing in the world to me, Robert," she told him.

"Why?" he queried her, curious.

"You have played the role of The Master for the Devil's Disciples for several years now," she began. "You have said I am to be your last pupil no matter the consequences. I believe that indicates that you have a conscience of sorts, sir. You know what you have done is wrong. The rich and the powerful have no God-given rights to abuse the poor and the helpless. Not that that has ever stopped them, nor will it, I suspect, in years to come. If you can save me from the lustful desires of my three suitors tomorrow night, even if you cannot, I shall give them a public set-down in London such as they cannot imagine. Would you not like to be there for that, Robert? Is it not a fitting and a just end to your career as The Master?"