Treacherous Temptations(69)

“Tincture of opium,” Barbara replied.

“A most effective agent, I must say,” chimed Sir Richard.

Mary’s eyes drooped and her body slumped while three unfocused faces floated above her with twisted smiles…and then her world faded to black.

…

Mary was besieged by a most bizarre and disturbing dream. She was in a darkened bedchamber, stripped naked and spread-eagle with wrists and ankles pinioned by leather straps to the four corners of a tester bed. Her head pounded fiercely, yet she ignored the pain to clear the fog and shake herself awake. She realized her eyes were already open.

She tested her limbs to discover her bindings were terrifyingly real.

Barnesley appeared in the periphery of her vision, a shadowy form in a red silk banyan. “How delightful to have you back with us again, my dear.” Lady Blanchard hovered behind him with a single lit taper, creating an eerily evil halo around him.

“Where am I? Where are my clothes? Why am I bound?”

Barnesley’s voice was velvety soft, almost soothing. “As I said earlier in the coach, my dear, your education is incomplete, and with our marriage imminent, I saw no need to delay your…training.”

Training? Terror gripped her in its icy claws. “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”

“Tsk. Tsk. It is not for you to ask the master. It is only for you to obey. But I suppose I will indulge you this once as proof of my charitable nature. Anything further, however, will require severe chastisement.”

He traced her exposed nipple with his forefinger and smiled in satisfaction when it hardened to his touch. “I long ago discovered that fear is the ultimate aphrodisiac, intensifying all of the senses to a zenith. And while many sing the merits of pleasure, I find they are a far second to the sublimity of pain.”

The countess stepped forward, licking her lips. “You will take her now, Freddie?”

“Not yet, my pet,” he replied. “I refuse to plant my seed until I am assured she does not carry Blanchard’s spawn. I won’t countenance giving my name to another man’s bastard.”

“And if she does?” Barbara asked.

“You will devise a way to get rid of it,” he replied icily.

While Mary had never even considered the possibility, Lord Barnesley’s statement brought her to a startling realization. Her flux was already late…by over a sennight.

“For the nonce,” he continued, “I must gratify myself with play. Have you ever experimented with hot wax, Barbara? No?” he answered the shake of her head. “It is one of many simple delights, and is so readily available. Shall I demonstrate for you the proper technique?”

He dipped his head and licked Mary’s breast, pulling her nipple into his mouth and biting down. Mary pulled against her restraints with a cry. He released it with a pop. “That was only a test, my pet, to verify that your senses have fully awakened. Barbara?” he inclined his head to the countess. “The candle, if you will.”

Barbara gazed on them with prurient delight as he took it from her hand. He lowered the taper to within inches of Mary’s breast, allowing the heat of the flickering flame to blaze across her skin.

Mary watched in horror as the hot wax pooled at the taper’s end. She squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself for the pain but jerked against her bindings with a whimper as the beads of melted wax splattered and seared her flesh.

“The wetness prevents a true burn,” he explained, “although it does little to mute the sensation.” His mouth was already on the other breast in repetition of his prior actions.

Mary braced herself. “Please stop this!”

Barnesley withdrew with a scowl and handed the candle back to Barbara. “I instructed you to be silent. You disobeyed. Perhaps you need a reminder of who is the master here.” He took a step toward her head and Mary recoiled as far as her bindings would allow, only to note the menacing implement lying on the bedside table.

His gaze followed hers. “I call it Medusa.” He took up the flogger with a smile. “Barbara, I seem to recall your stated affection for the cat. Remove your dressing gown.”

“Me? You wish me to disrobe?”

“Yes. Although I had intended to f*ck you as you flogged Mary, you have set a poor example with your hesitation, not to mention the added impertinence of your question. Thus, I must now flog you instead. Remove your dressing gown,” he repeated. “And present your back.”

Mary watched in shock as Barbara untied the sash and shrugged out of the garment to let it puddle on the floor. Without further protest or any sign of alarm, Barbara then presented her back to him.

“Hug the post and spread your legs,” he ordered. When Barbara glanced over her shoulder, the whip came down with a wicked snap.

Mary recoiled.

Barbara only chuckled. “Is that the best you can do, Freddie?”

“Oh no, my dear,” he licked his lips. “I assure you that you and Medusa are to become intimately acquainted. For it seems, our Mary is not the one in most need of chastisement.” He raised the flogger again only to be stalled by rapid footfalls and a frantic voice.

“Where the devil is she!” An enraged baritone echoed through the halls, followed by the slamming of doors. A pounding sounded immediately outside. The handle to the bedchamber rattled, and the door shook with violence, but refused to give. “Open now, Barnesley, or I’ll blow a hole through the f*cking door and then do the same to you!”