Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

BENEDICT

H er body quivers, crying out to me as I fashion a plug from the ginger. This sacrifice is one of the hardest I've ever had to make. Between the looming threat, which could turn out to be nothing more than a person playing a farce, her brother's edicts, and her own recklessness, I cannot indulge.

I am her discipliner, her enforcer, while her brother is away. Nothing more. "Boredom is easily rectified, Madam. But you must look for other avenues than this destructive behavior. If you care nothing for yourself, then perhaps you'd care for your brother. What would it do to him to know how close you've come to losing everything?"

She glances down, her long lashes sparkling with tears. Unfortunately, I cannot take her seriously while she's still dressed as a man. I set the ginger aside and haul her to her feet.

"Now then, let us rid you of these clothes and makeup."

She gasps, pulling away from me. "I am to be naked in front of you?"

"Now you care about your honor? Funnily enough, you didn't seem to care when man after man sat at your table. What was your end game? Really, I'd like to know? Where were they to deliver their debts?"

This time, Augusta smiles, almost preening as she rocks back and forth. "I never played on credit. To these men, I was a transient visitor, an artist who liked to dabble in gambling."

"I see. Intelligent, I'll grant you. But what if one of them recognized you?"

Lips pulled down into a frown, she grabs the hat from off of her head and tosses it to the floor. Chocolate strands drift over her shoulders, instantly softening her angular features. Next, she undoes her outer clothing, leaving just her shirt and breeches.

I shouldn't find her so alluring like this. There's something so forbidden, so wanton, seeing her undress for me. However, once her fingers tug at the linen of her shirt, that blush races up her cheeks, nearly hidden by the false beard. It reminds me that for all her brazen actions, she's still quite the little innocent.

Her fingers tremble as she tugs even more, pulling the tails out so they drape over the front of the breeches. "I- I cannot go any further. I-"

"Then allow me. There is no way you're keeping this ridiculous outfit only to do it all over again." Yanking her forward, I grip the shirt and wrench.

Once it's free of her body, I force it up, desperate to see just how she hid her breasts from view. Thick bandages wrap tightly around her body, snugger than any amount of stays I've undone.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," I curse under my breath, taking in the angry lines where they bind into her skin. "How are you not in agony?"

She shrugs, the motion offhanded, yet something dark lurks in her gaze. "I… I cannot say."

"Cannot," I hedge, "Or will not?"

Again, her shoulders rise and fall, but this time, there seems to be a desperation behind her actions. "I honestly cannot. I suppose the excitement of the gaming hell drowned it out?"

There's more there, but now is not the time to interrogate her. I need to apply swift correction then make sure she's home safe. Thankfully, with a ball tomorrow, she'll have something far more appropriate to keep her occupied. After that, I'll have to find some manner with which to keep her inside where she belongs. If I have to drag her to events nightly until her brother comes home, then that's what I'll do.

"Your breeches."

"But, Your Grace-"

"I care naught about your delicate sensibilities. I've already seen you the first time I had to take you in hand. There is nothing left for me to wonder about. Either take them off of your own will, or I'll extend the punishment."

"Yes, Your Grace."

With tentative tugs, she pushes the buckskin over her round hips and urges it to the floor. How anyone could mistake her for a man is beyond me. Yet, when she uses the shirt to remove the makeup and loosens the bands to where they still cover her but allow her natural shape to blossom, I can see it.

The transformation is outstanding. I'm sure the only way I recognized her was first from her scent. Shaking my head, I look her up and down, my cock pulsing as she stands there, mostly nude with just a few scraps to cover the pertinent bits. It's as if Lady Venus has come to life and stands before me.

Reaching forward, I graze her arm with my fingers, soaking in the soft feel of her skin. "How you vex me." Before she can formulate another word, I drag her over to the cross at the back of the room. "As we agreed. I shall not warm up your skin with my hand. You will take my punishment. All of my punishment. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Her tone is pitiful with a note of a whine in the back of her throat.

Is she really sorry? Or is she just sorry I found her out? Lifting her wrist, I attach one to the cuff, then the other. I leave her legs free so I can have access to her arsehole.

With her fully secured, I go back over to the bed and finish fashioning a plug. It's not very large, but for an anal virgin like her, it will feel immense. Not to mention the other side effects.

I take my time, forcing my breathing to slow as I make every cut with precision. It buys me time, allowing my mind, heart, and cock to settle down a bit. Once I finish, I make my way back over to her.

Threading my fingers in Augusta's hair, I force her head to face me. "Remember. You have done all of this to yourself. However, if you have even a shred of honor left in you, you will take this punishment with grace. Here, I will not offer my cravat as a means of stifling your cries. No one here will rescue you. No one here will care. Scream if you wish, but it is only you and me."

She shudders in my grasp, her eyes dilating at my words. It's as if she likes that notion. But it can't be. One as innocent as she has no idea the pain I'm about to inflict.

"Jut out your backside."

"But, Your Grace-"

I smack her right arse cheek, refusing to temper my touch. The sound bounces around the room, echoing it back to me. "Obey me, hoyden."

Though she sniffles, she does as she's told, stretching as best as she can. Already her pussy weeps as arousal gathers at her lower lips and drips to the floor. Blazes, but she shouldn't be so enticing. Wrapping my arm around her waist to keep her where I want her, I graze the sensitive skin of her back hole with the ginger.

The instant it touches her puckered flesh, she flinches and jerks forward, only remaining where she's at by the iron grip of my arm.

"Your Grace," she screeches, bouncing her arse around as she struggles to be free. "'Tis unseemly. 'Tis-"

"The perfect punishment for someone who has no concept of what is actually seemly and what isn't." Again, I touch her backside with the root, biting back a groan as my knuckles brush against her skin. "Keep struggling, little Augusta. It will only make it worse."

"But, Your Grace-"

"You agreed to my punishment. We even made a gentlemanly bet on it. Do not tell me your honor is so far gone that you cannot pay your debts."

She pauses, her body still. Finally, something to make her pause and think. Moments go by as we stand this in this stalemate.

"Forgive me," she eventually croaks. "I certainly do pay my debts. Despite what you think about me, I do have some shred of honor."

"That's my good girl," I croon, stroking her with the back of my hand. "Come now. I wish to see how well you can submit to your punishment. Do not fight me. Be grateful I'm not forcing you to expose yourself to me while I do it. I can make this far more humiliating if you wish."

"No, Your Grace," she murmurs, a red flush flowing over her shoulders and down her upper back.

Despite her protests, her clit stands out, stiff and needy. Her body screams at me, begging me to touch her, to give her some relief. Damnation.

Again, I apply myself to my task, gritting my teeth as I force the tip of the ginger to breach her delicate back entrance. Though she remains as still as she can, pained whines flit through the air.

"Just a little more. You're taking this ginger so well, my dear. That's a good girl. Relax for me. Let your body accept your punishment."

After a few more pushes, the bulbous part slides past her tight ring, allowing her back hole to snap closed around the base. I watch in fascination as her body ripples around it, accepting the intrusion. Pulling my arm away, I guide her legs to the base of the cross and latch her ankles to the wood.

She makes such a pretty picture trussed up like that. The only thing that would make it better is if she were on my own personal cross in my dungeon. Forcing that thought from my mind, I try my best to think of her as I should—like a little sister in need of some discipline.

Crossing my arms, I watch and wait. Soon, the ginger will take hold, and she'll not be able to escape its effects. Moments tick by, and as I predicted, her body begins to wriggle.

"Y- Your Grace," she squeaks out.

"Yes, my delightful troublemaker?"

"S- something's wrong."

"Oh?" I step around the cross, so I'm face to face with her. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… You… My… My…"

"Your…" I attempt to help out, even though I know exactly what is vexing her. Heat flushes her face as she frowns, the words refusing to come. "I cannot assist you if you do not speak."

"My backside, Your Grace. It burns."

"Does it now?" I walk back over where her arse waves back and forth. "Shall I see what's the matter?"

Taunting her like this does neither of us any good. It's far too close to the relationship I wish to have. Bending down, I make a great show of inspecting her, only to go back to where she can see me.

"There is nothing the matter with your backside. Not yet anyway. You're merely feeling the effects of the ginger as its spicy juices flood your sensitive nerves. The more you struggle and fight, the more the burn will happen."

I keep my eye on her as I walk over to the wall and gather my tools. Last time, the tawse didn't make an impression. Shocking, but not unheard of in stubborn wenches. Maybe she needs something with a bit more bite. I take the leather strap and a cane and walk back over to her.

Augusta cranes her neck to see what I have, her gaze far more curious than nervous. I walk to where she can see me through the arms and grin at her.

"Open your mouth."

Without any fuss, she does what she's told. The moment her lips part, I slide the wood in. As if on instinct, she closes around it, my balls clenching at the sight. She could be so submissive, so perfect if she wanted to be.

"No matter what happens. Do not drop that cane. Nod if you understand me."

She does, her eyes nearly black. Good Lord, but I do believe she's enjoying this. Just like with my tawse, her body undulates as she moans ever so softly under her breath. How am I going to get it through to her if everything I do makes her crave more?

Shaking my head, I hold the strap of leather away from her body and let it swing. Perhaps after tonight, she'll think differently. The loud thwack reverberates through the room, vibrating along my skin. With her startled shriek, the cane drops from her mouth and clatters to the floor.

"Tsk. Tsk. Now I'll just have to start all over."