From Chapter 2
“You have not been thorough in your duties. Are you quite certain you are done?”
“Is there something further you require, Master?”
The fire’s brazen shadows played over his face, glittering within his half-closed eyes. He grasped my forearm with his damp hand and pulled me so that I faced him once more. Exerting excruciating pressure, he forced me to kneel before him. I winced, my arm tingling from the loss of blood. Not releasing his grip, he took his male organ into his free hand. I retrieved the cloth once more from the bowl and, turning my eyes away, gingerly applied it to the skin directly below his navel. Taking my hand in his, he moved it downwards, pressing my palm to the soft flesh surrounded by a shock of dense hair. With deliberate slowness, he caressed the length of it, not releasing my hand. I was crawling with shame, and was further disconcerted to realize that the previously lax appendage was rapidly lengthening and thickening. My eyes went reflexively back to it: he tightened our grip and pulled back the skin covering the crested head. The pinkish hue was deepening to an almost angry purple, as the intricate tracery of blood vessels pulsed thickly in my hand. He commenced a slow, rhythmic stroking, from the tip to the base of the shaft. Within a few moments, it had attained a preternatural rigidity. The Admiral increased the tempo of the movement of our fingers up and down his organ.“Molly…” There was a tremor in his deep and commanding voice.
“Yes, Master?” My own voice was barely above a whisper.
“Give your other hand to me.”
I obeyed. He placed my hands so that they both gripped his member tightly. His hips propelled it in its path between my fingers: his rapid and frenzied thrusts became rougher…almost violent…I thought he must surely be in pain. Startled by an explosive exhalation of breath, I looked up at him. His face was flushed, lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes, which had been tightly shut, opened suddenly, and I shivered to see the wicked delight gleaming there. His entire body shuddered, a tree struck by a powerful wind, and his thighs twitched convulsively. His head rolled back, the taut muscles in his neck pulled tighter still. A low moan escaped his lips as he gathered my hands so that the bloated tip of his manhood nestled between my palms. He stood, for a moment, a statue carved in ivory, not breathing. Then his head snapped forward, he stared down at me again, his brow deeply furrowed, his hips writhing. The turgid flesh in my grasp quivered, and I was horrified to feel him discharge slippery fluids into my fist. Stricken, I could only watch as the viscous milky liquid escaped the confines of my hands and dripped between my fingers. The Admiral bucked like a horse brought suddenly to curb, and gradually released his hold on my hands.
He recovered quickly from his physical crisis, and took my chin into his grasp, forcing my face to turn up to him. My befouled hands fell, with a splash, into the wash tub in which he stood. He smiled.
The towel, Molly. I shall catch my death of cold.” Numb, I rose to my feet and retrieved the yards of soft toweling from the stand, applying the cotton to his damp skin, certain to dry all of him. He retrieved his nightshirt from the bedside hook and shrugged it on.
“Molly, go down to the stables, and see if the remainder of my trunks have arrived. They ought to have been brought in from town this morning. Have one of the hands bring them up. Then see to it that I have breakfast. I should like tea, eggs poached, biscuits, a good slice of beef as well.”
“Is there anything else you require, Master?”
“For the moment, that will be sufficient.”
I curtsied, and quietly exited his chambers. Closing the door behind myself, I picked up the hem of my dress and ran, through the hall, past the startled faces of several other slaves and out to the side porch.
Filling my lungs with the cool morning air, I found I was strangely calm. I watched as the sun breasted the horizon, molten rays illuminating the fields and hills. I felt a quiet yet unmistakable conviction coalesce in my heart. I would not allow this abominable, inhuman creature to break me. There is no victory in collapsing under the cruelty of evil men in an evil world. “You may possess my body, but you shall not ever…ever… have my soul.” I whispered to myself. I turned, and headed for the livery stables.
Copyright © Mollena Williams. All rights reserved.