surely be thrown out into the cold if he thought she was a whore. He
seemed to be a perfect gentleman. She sighed languidly.
"I'm sure I will be very well after a little rest, Mr. Faulkner. Please
let me stay here awhile."
"Well, I suppose that will be all right."
Mr. Faulkner sounded uncertain and Lily wondered if he was
married. She used every vestige of her feminine wiles, gazing up at
her rescuer with big beguiling eyes. To her surprise, she found that
she was wet between the legs, her nipples hard. She wanted Lawrence
Faulkner. She only had to make him want her.
"You're so very kind, Mr. Faulkner. I don't know what I would
have done without you."
Lily lay back against the cushions in an attitude of surrender.
Slowly she raised her arms above her head and stretched, subtly
pushing her breasts out and up, a mistress at exhibiting her lovely
body at its most alluring angles. She was suddenly as horny as a feral
cat. A clear image of kneeling on all fours on the chaise with
Lawrence Faulkner entering her from behind imprinted itself on her
mind and she shivered.
"You're still cold?"
"A little. Getting warmer by the minute. Oh dear, I hate to ask you
for any further favors, Mr. Faulkner, but I am so terribly hungry."
"Will some bread and cheese suffice? I'm afraid that's all I can
procure until tomorrow."
"That would be lovely."
Lily watched Lawrence rise and leave the room, her gaze lingering
over his broad shoulders and solid torso. He had black curly hair and
quite a swarthy skin, just the type of man she liked. Bread and
cheese. Was that to be his evening meal? It was barely five
according to the softly ticking clock on the mantel and all he could
28
procure was bread and cheese. Or perhaps he wanted to keep his real
dinner for himself. The house was quiet, no sign of a wife and
children or a servant of any sort. Lily relaxed into the soft cushions,
enjoying the warmth and moisture between her legs. Lawrence
Faulkner. A pleasant name for a very nice man. When he returned
bearing a tray of thinly buttered bread, cheese and pickles, it was all
she could do not to fall upon the good food with a ravenous desire.
"This is delicious. I really can't thank you enough, Mr. Faulkner."
Again and again she used his name, keen for him to inquire hers.
Finally, impatient with his seeming lack of interest, she said, "I'm
Miss Green, by the way. Louisa Green." It seemed wise to conceal
her true identity just in case. Hunger and exhaustion had sharpened
her caution to near paranoia.
"Miss Green." Lawrence spoke the words as if testing them for
truth and Lily found herself blushing. His voice was like dark
chocolate, deep and melting. She was very aroused by it, longed to
feel his lips on her soft yielding throat, murmuring sweet obscenities
in her ear. God, it was so difficult being a slut in a world of prudes.
Mr. Faulkner was too much the gentleman. She'd never get him into
bed. Best to stick with practicalities for the present.
"Where am I? Are we close to the railway station?"
Lawrence frowned. "Well, it depends which railway station you
refer to, Miss Green. The nearest would be Little Deepcote, about
five miles to the east."
Lily groaned. "Little Deepcote! Oh dear!"
She realized that to say which rail station she really wanted might
be giving her identity away and swiftly added "Is that on the Oxford
line?" Lawrence shook his head.
"The London line, I'm afraid. It's the next station up from Church
Edmond."
Perfect, thought Lily, and wondered how she could get Mr.
Faulkner to buy her a ticket. Again, she arched her spine and
stretched languorously. She so wanted to kiss this buttoned-up Mr.
Faulkner and push the tip of her clever little tongue between his
29
sensual lips. She realized that she was hungry for cock in much the
same way she had been hungry for supper.
Sometimes it's best to take the bull by the horns! Perhaps he's shy.
Keeping her gaze firmly fixed on Lawrence's face, Lily began to
slowly unfasten the bodice of her dress, daring him to stop her. He
watched her lithe fingers moving, each small jet button sliding out of
its tiny pocket to reveal the soft fine cotton of her chemise. Her
nipples were hard, forming two firm points that taunted him.
"What are you doing?"
Lily smiled seductively and softly traced the contours of her
breasts. "I'm repaying you, Mr. Faulkner. It would be very churlish
of you not to accept."
"I know what you need, Miss Green, or whatever your name is, and
it isn't this."
"Oh?" Lily's heart began to beat a little faster. An odd expression
had entered Lawrence's eyes. He didn't look shocked or worried by
her naughty behavior, almost as if it was expected. He placed his
hands on his hips and returned her challenging look.
"You need a damned good spanking."
Butterflies danced in Lily's stomach. Submissively, she nodded.
"You're right. I'm a very bad girl."
"Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about that, won't we,
Miss Green?"
Lawrence stooped and caught hold of Lily's wrists. Firmly, he
pulled her to a standing position. She looked up at him, so much taller
and stronger than herself, his dark eyes shining with determination.
"What a brat you are."
"Yes, sir."
Lily longed for a bare bottom spanking.
"Go ahead and remove your dress. You might as well, as you're
half way there already."
"Yes, sir."
"Keep your chemise on and drop your drawers."
"Yes, sir."
30
Desperately aroused, Lily stepped out of her dress and unfastened
the ribbons of her drawers. They rustled to the carpet and formed a
soft pool about her ankles. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of
the warm fire on her bottom and thighs. Just like Mr. Gerrard's study
but so very different. The butler wasn't young and handsome like
Lawrence Faulkner. A dribble of her juices began to make its way
down her inner thigh, tormenting her. She needed his cock inside her,
long, thick and hard as a ramrod.
"Bend over the chaise, Miss Green."
"Yes, sir."
"Is that all you can say?"
"No, sir."
Lily's heart beat like a little drum as she placed the palms of her
hands on the seat of the chaise longue and presented her naked bottom
to Lawrence. There was something very exciting about the man,
something that turned her insides to water. A cool hand touched her
buttocks, appraised their full, soft curves and lingered hesitantly over
the series of livid welts left by Mr. Gerrard's punishment.
"You do have a lovely bottom, Miss Green. But – oh dear –
someone has given you quite a serious caning recently. What did you
do to deserve that?"
Lily bit her lip, wondering what she should say.
"I fell off my horse into a briar patch."
Mr. Faulkner sno
rted with amusement.
"Really. What fascinating thorns. Such a symmetrical effect." He
patted the welts and Lily moaned and pushed her hips towards his
hand. He rewarded her with a short sharp smack and she squealed,
more in pleasure than pain.
"Oh, please! Please!"
One hand pressed against the small of her back and the other began
to deliver a hard bare bottom spanking. As he spanked, Lawrence
lectured her, the words spoken in time to the quick stinging smacks.
"You-are-a-very-wicked-girl-Miss-Green. You-should-not-comport-
yourself-in-such-a-sluttish-fashion."
31
Lily's bottom was scarlet and tingling. Her breasts bounced to the
rhythm of the spanking and threatened to spill from her chemise. She
was vaguely aware of the letter, crackling inside her corset. Again
and again Lawrence's hand made contact with the tender under-part of
her buttocks and she groaned in pleasure. He was teasing her,
slapping her so close to her vulva that the vibration acted as a strong
pussy closer to Lawrence's fingers. Each time she did this, he spanked
her harder and moved his hand away until she cried out in frustration.
"Fuck me! Oh, please fuck me!"
She was surprised at just how much she needed him.
"No. Suck me." His hands found her hair and turned her head,
guiding her face towards his crotch. He leaned over her, pushing the
length of his cock down her throat and she swallowed greedily,
gulping the gush of hot semen as if it were the final course of an
exquisite supper.
32
CHAPTER VI
LAWRENCE FAULKNER
Lily slept late, beset with long, lurid dreams in which she was
spanked by a series of gentlemen, both stern and kind, chased through
a maze by Colonel Hanley and taken in by a brothel where the clients
paid her in bread and cheese. When she finally awoke with a start,
she found Lawrence Faulkner standing by the bed holding a tea cup.
It took her a few moments to realize where she was and a sense of
relief flooded her aching body. Generous, masterful Mr. Faulkner.
"Good morning, Miss Green. I've brought you some tea. It's
almost nine and I must go out soon. You may take a bath if you wish
to refresh yourself before continuing on your journey."
Lily struggled upright, gratefully accepting the cup of tea. Her
whole body ached, the cumulative result of unaccustomed housework,
the harsh caning and a day's trudging through frozen lanes.
Continuing on her journey was the last thing she wanted to do and she
wondered how she could arrange to stay a day or two with Lawrence
Faulkner.
"You're so kind to me. What can I do to repay you?"
A sideways glance in the mirror on the dressing table caused Lily to
blush, for her luxuriant dark hair was in a wild state of disarray. She
put up one hand to smooth the worst tangles. Lawrence smiled.
"You can repay me by telling me just exactly what you're doing,
Miss Louisa Green. Or should that be Miss Lily Warnock?"
Lily's heart skipped a beat and she almost spilled her tea on the
bedcovers. She was aware of her naked breasts, fully on show to the
young man who must think her a whore. She should maintain some
propriety to keep his respect but that was a bit like shutting the stable
door after the horse had bolted. It had been quite a night.
"I can explain. I really can, but please give me some time, Mr.
Faulkner."
"I think that you can call me Lawrence after last night, my dear.
But I still want your explanation. You look like a well brought up
33
young woman but you certainly don't behave like one. However, I
would be a hypocrite to accuse you when I'm every bit as guilty."
Lily stared up at Lawrence. So few men understood that simple
fact. If they dallied with a woman they were every bit as "guilty" as
she was of the terrible sin of fornication. Yet so many of them
persisted with the nonsense that somehow the devil had made them do
it and naturally it was Eve who clasped the juicy apple of temptation
in her hot little hand.
"I hope I haven't placed you in an awkward position, Lawrence. I
really didn't mean..."
Lily's voice trailed off. She wasn't sure how to proceed, whether to
be bold and brazen or to play the young lady who had temporarily
succumbed to the potent lure of desire. Lawrence seemed different
from the other men she had known, who always neatly fell into one
category or the other, hedonistic free-thinkers or hypocrites. Why,
Lord Thorburn was remarkably broadminded for a man of nearly
sixty. Demurely, she raised the bedcovers to conceal her breasts.
Lawrence caught the gesture and smiled wryly.
"No, I'd like to see your beautiful body. But tell me to whom it
belongs. Your real name."
Lily swallowed, images of being returned to Akenhead Hall to face
her brief employers, the sadistic butler and a furious Colonel Hanley,
surging through her mind. She had to trust Lawrence. He was her
only hope.
"I'm Lily Warnock. How do you know my real name?"
Lawrence frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. "Bad news
Lily nodded and sipped her tea, afraid that it might be the last for a
while. Lawrence's calm voice became grave.
"You assaulted a Colonel Hanley and stole some money from
him?"
Lily's eyes opened wide in indignation. "Stole money from him? I
most certainly did not! I ran away because he was trying to ravish me
in the shrubbery. I had to lash out in self defense. Theft? No!"
34
Lawrence sighed. "My dear, I truly want to believe you." His dark
eyes sought Lily's and she shivered, suddenly cold and vulnerable.
"Look through my clothes, Lawrence. You'll find precisely two
pennies. I was going to post a letter when Colonel Hanley waylaid me
in the garden."
Lawrence looked slightly sheepish. "Yes, I know. When I heard
the news from the milkman this morning, I searched the pockets of
your coat. I'm very sorry. It was unforgivable but I needed to be sure.
After all, I don't know you. Other than in the, um, biblical sense of
the word. And, oddly, I sensed you were giving me a false name last
night, Lily. I knew you weren't a Louisa Green. There was something
just a little too glib about the way you rattled that name off before I
asked it."
Lily finished her tea and placed the cup on the bedside table. She
felt that Lawrence was on her side but she was still at risk.
"I'm sorry I lied to you, Lawrence. It was for my own protection,
not to deliberately deceive you. I have no one in the world to turn to
and I have to look after myself. Sometimes that involves deceptions,
usually small ones."
"I think we're all guilty of those, Lily." Again, Lily looked into
Lawrence's eyes and found understanding, humane compassion.
Thank you, Lawrence Faulkner. You're a rare man.
"Agreed
! Now, what do I do? I have no money other than those
two paltry pennies. Who will believe I'm innocent if it's my word
against a colonel of the British army's? I was just a housemaid."
Lawrence looked as if he had made up his mind. "I will pay for
your ticket, Lily. If you'll agree to my devilish scheme, I intend to
have you travel with me to London, posing as Mrs. Faulkner. God
help me for losing my senses but you are quite the prettiest creature to
cross my path in a long time and I'd like to do all kinds of perverted
things to your milk white flesh. You were heading for London
anyway, weren't you? What do you say?"
Lily leaned back against the pillows, letting the smooth cotton sheet
fall away from her breasts. Sensual hunger rose in her again, hot and
fierce. She found Lawrence Faulkner almost irresistible. He bent
35
over her, taking her nipples into his mouth one by one and sucking
them until she cried out in pleasure, her pussy slick with desire.
"You're going to do just exactly what I say and you're going to love
every moment of it, Miss Warnock. Now, as I mentioned, I have an
appointment to keep. Don't fret, your secret is quite safe with me.
Make yourself some breakfast, take a bath and be ready by twelve
noon. I'll be back then and we'll catch the two o' clock train to the evil
metropolis. Are you planning to visit Lord Thorburn, by the way?
I'm sorry but I did come across the letter in your heap of discarded
clothes."
Lily nodded. "Lord Thorburn is an old friend. He will help me. I
just need to get to Bloomsbury."
"That can be arranged but you'll pay for your passage." Lawrence
winked and squeezed Lily's nipples between his thumbs and
forefingers, making her gasp. "Oh, and when you dress, be sure to
lace up your corset extra tight. I like small waists. A bientot, my
dear."
Lily watched him leave the bedroom and her fingers strayed to the
wet place between her legs. She was desperately aroused, the little
hard bud of her clitoris engorged with blood and pulsing gently. She
began to masturbate, massaging herself in tiny circling motions until
she came, her mind filled with images of being put over Lawrence's
knees for a sound bare bottom spanking. Discipline was delicious in
the right pair of hands...