Kidnapped and Bound: Kidnapped, Book 2

BOOK: Kidnapped and Bound: Kidnapped, Book 2
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Kidnapped and Bound

By

Arabella Kingsley

©2014 by Blushing Books® and Arabella Kingsley

 

All rights reserved.

No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Blushing Books®,

a subsidiary of

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is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

Kingsley, Arabella

Kidnapped and Bound

eBook ISBN:
978-1-62750-3549

Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Lyndon Forest, Buckinghamshire, England, 1812

 

I found myself taken from my bed and abducted by my fiancé, Lord Marcus Grange.  He carried me away in his Landau carriage as the horses drove it fast along the moonlit forest, deep into the Buckinghamshire countryside.  I struggled and kicked out at Lord Grange, confused and hurt by his unexpected action and the sinister, uncaring way he looked upon me.  He fought to keep me still and caught my ankle underneath my long white column dress to grip it tightly.  He raised it high until I felt discomfort.  It immobilised any movement I made to free myself from his clutches.

“Kick me again, Eleanor, and I will punish you,” he callously snapped.  His handsome, turquoise eyes, which had once captivated me so deeply along with his fair good looks, narrowed with fierce anger, making me tremble.  “The Viscount likes a quiet, obedient woman, and I don’t intend to disappoint him.  My life depends on it.”

I stared at him, wincing with pain as he strengthened his hold upon my ankle.  He stretched my leg up into the air, exposing my nakedness beneath the dress.  I felt my eyes turn glassy with tears as I looked at the man I would have called husband in just a week’s time.

Lord Grange pouted and wore a sad countenance, mimicking my forlorn expression.   But he appeared to find it hard to contain it when a grin broke through his false exterior.  As if to soothe his mistake, he trailed the tip of his thumb from my ankle all the way up the soft milky-white skin of my leg, lifting the dress as he did.

Lord Grange’s fingers began to stroke my thigh in a gentle, caressing manner, making my skin tingle, arousing my confused senses.  He slid the silky material farther until he bared the tight black curls of my sex, unhindered by a covering as per the fashion of the time.  My cheeks flushed with the heat of embarrassment.  I had hoped and longed for such an unveiling of my body and his touch upon it on our wedding night but now he soiled my reputation.

The action ensured I regretted not trying those new undergarments some of my friends wore.  Yet they had seemed long, clumsy and ghastly.  The idea of them showing through my dress or out of the bottom of it when lifted to avoid mud and puddles would have caused too much embarrassment.  Now I could only lament that they might have afforded me some protection.

“I will miss taking you to my bed, my love, but it would never really have worked.  I have my gambling and I like women too much to be faithful to only one of them.  My family will have to wait forever for me to make a match in marriage.  You and your body are going to save my life tonight.  I have to pay the Viscount back my debt, and unfortunately, I haven’t got any money.  But I think you will be more than an adequate substitute.  He is a connoisseur of beautiful women.  You will be a welcome addition to the collection in his harem.”

Against my gag, I squealed with both fear and anger at his plan.  As if to silence my errant protest he slipped his fingers in to the curls and stroked between my pliant virginal pussy lips, nipping the tiny bud nestling there.  Confused by my feelings once again for the sudden turn of behaviour in Marcus yet still seduced by his previous love, my sex dampened unexpectedly, coating his invading fingers with my juice.  I wanted to cry.  It was the first time any man had touched me so intimately there and this was not the way I had dreamt and envisioned this precious moment occurring.  Lord Grange’s liberty was intolerable.  Hurt and angry, I raised my tied hands and banged them hard against his face as he leaned over to kiss me.

He moved back quickly, letting go of me, and he was clearly shocked at my violent outburst.  He pointed an angry finger at me.  His handsome countenance flashed with dark anger, rendering me still.

“You are going to regret doing that, Eleanor.  I am going to spank your bare bottom until it smarts.”

I gasped and whimpered against the muslin cloth forced into my mouth as a gag.  Shaking my head at him, I backed away along the red leather seat in fright.  With daring speed, Lord Grange let go of my ankle and moved towards the window of the carriage.

He opened the window and shouted up to the coachman.  “Stop the carriage,” he demanded.

The coachman obeyed him without question and the man immediately slowed the movement of the horses, bringing the carriage to a standstill.  A freezing February fog was creeping in to the air and all around the pine trees, making the forest more eerie and instilling even more terror inside my quaking body.  I glanced outside, wondering if I should attempt to run despite my fear of being alone in the woods at night. But my tied hands made any attempt to fly from Marcus and the closed carriage impossible. 

Lord Grange was to prove true to his word.  I was to be bared and spanked soundly like an errant child for my act.  The moment the carriage was brought to a halt, he roughly took hold of my waist and pulled my body across the seat and over his lap.

Helpless as a babe, I lay draped and humiliated over Lord Grange’s knees.  My hands were still tied with rope, and I was unable to scream for help for the gag in my mouth.  I felt my eyes widen with outrage.  Using his free hand, Marcus pressed down hard on my back to ensure I remained in position for the punishment he was about to inflict upon my bare and defenceless bottom.  Was there to be no end to the torment he wished to inflict upon me that night?

“The Viscount likes to see a woman’s bottom red from a healthy bare-bottom spanking.  He is an expert at disciplining wayward young women.  And you deserve it,” Marcus said, his voice stern, dark and authoritative as though he were addressing a child.  “It will make you worth more when I give you to him in payment for my debt.”

I was to be handed off like cattle at the market.  Had my poor parents been alive and my aunt not old and infirm, I would have cause to believe in a rescue.  I struggled like a wild cat, determined I would save myself from the cruel fate that was to be mine.

“I warrant he will marry a prize like you.  Your inheritance and dowry will be worth the slight inconvenience to him and his pursuit of luscious women,” Marcus chuckled.

“I watched him whip the bottom of one his women quite recently,” he continued.  “The man has a hard swing with a flogger, my love.  You better get used to it being applied to your gorgeous plump rump every day.” Lord Grange ended his callous speech by taking hold of the bottom of my dress and skimming it over the backs of my legs and thighs.  He pushed it up to my waist as I let out a sob of humiliation.  The back of my naked thigh was given a sharp slap when I attempted to make it difficult for him.  I yelped with surprise at how the simple action could make my tender flesh sting so much.

The air was cool, resting on my bare backside as if to conspire with Lord Grange and ensure my punishment was to be harsh.  I felt Marcus’s fingers stroke the flesh of my buttocks soothingly, lulling my fear for the briefest of moments.

Earlier, my nerves had been rattled and sorely tested when Lord Grange woke me in the early hours of the morning by storming noisily in to my rooms.  The servants in their nightclothes were scandalised, begging him to respect my privacy and reputation.  My stern aunt, the dowager Duchess of Winborne, in whose house I had been residing since the death of my parents when younger, was roused from her slumber in an intolerable mood and temper.  She was at pains to protect me and have Lord Grange run from her home. But her efforts were soon put to pay when Lord Grange dragged her from my rooms and bade one of the three men who accompanied him to gag the woman and tie her to a chair.  Never had I witnessed such deplorable behaviour.

The other two servants in the employ of Lord Grange were large and thickset characters, more than a match for my aunt’s two elderly footmen and the young kitchen boy.  I had remained in bed, startled and afraid of the intrusion.  Gathering up the bedclothes to my chin, I had tried to protect my modesty.  Lord Grange was not to allow me this kindness.  He ripped away the bedclothes, forcing a shriek from my lips and exposing me to all who stood around my bed.

Fear forced me to try and flee to hide, but Marcus caught hold of my arm and forced me back to stand before the bed.  With excitement and a strange arousal swirling deep in his eyes, he stood back, tore at my white shift and removed it from my body until I stood naked and vulnerable to the gaze of every man in the room.  Tears gather and spilled in my eyes as I sought to cover myself with my small delicate hands that were of little help.

Lord Grange laughed loudly and instructed both of his men to remove my hands and hold them out to my sides so that he may inspect me.  Heat flared through my body as his seductive gaze rested across my breasts and travelled the length of my small curved form with undisguised appreciation.

“Beautiful.  It will be a shame to give you up,” Lord Grange informed me with a heavy sigh as he trailed the tip of a purposeful digit around the nipple of one of my breasts.  Unexpected arousal stabbed painfully in my stomach at the warmth of his finger and the light caress of his black velvet cuff against my breast.  Inside my mind, annoyance I could even feel such a thing in the manner in which I was being treated rose strongly.  He briefly ran a firm hand down my back, raising a startled, helpless gasp from my lips.  He grinned, clearly enjoying my fearful yet aroused reaction.  As if to prolong it, he allowed his hand to travel down to my bare rump and cup a buttock tightly.  He moved his body and eyes to the side to view the naked swell of my bottom.

“Yes, very beautiful and well formed, a prize for a man like the Viscount.”

He gave my buttock another squeeze and with a sigh, let go.

Lord Grange also removed his finger, ceasing his intoxicating yet devilish caress of my nipple to cup my chin and raise it.  “The Viscount will be pleased with you.  I would love to touch and explore your tender body for myself but he requires a virgin and you shall remain intact until I deliver you to him.”

Before I could utter a word of protest or indignation, he stood back and ordered his men to gag me and the maid to dress me quickly.  Then my hands were tied behind my back with rope.  Without further ado, Lord Grange dipped his tall frame and pulled me neatly over his shoulder even as I kicked out and screamed against my gag.  With a chuckle and a heavy slap to my buttocks, he carried me from the house kidnapped and bound.

 

 

Now Marcus was baring my fragile bare bottom, preparing to spank and chastise me like a child.  Tears of humiliation and fear for the pain about to come hotly brushed my eyes.  Lord Grange stroked his fingertips over my skin, tracing the perfect outline of my buttocks.

“You have a beautiful rump.  I wonder how it behaves when I slap it hard?” he questioned himself with curiosity out loud.  “Time to receive your punishment, my love.”

I squealed and kicked, but he pressed down hard on my back with his arm to steady me and delivered his first slap.  If I hadn’t been gagged, I would have screamed loudly.  My bare buttocks jumped, quivered against the blow and flared with painful heat.  Lord Grange cruelly laughed.

Once or twice, maybe thrice, Marcus’s hand caught the vulnerable backs of my thighs much harder than when he had first hit me there.  My hind end blazed.  Tears spilled from my eyes, and I am ashamed to confess I sobbed against the gag like a babe in arms.  Eventually, I gave up struggling.  I hung limp and accepting of my heartless punishment, knowing there was nothing I could do to free myself from Lord Grange’s strength.

“I am sorry to interrupt, sir,” the coachman said, tapping on the window.  Marcus leaned over to slide down the window.  I was exposed to the man, a stranger.  My flaring and reddened bare buttocks were clearly displayed for his lustful viewing.   “Time is moving fast, m’lord, and we need to be there soon or the Viscount will be in a terrible temper.  My, she’s a bonnie lass.  There is nothing more juicy than seeing a woman with well-spanked bottom and a deep red blush to it an’ all.”  There was an edge of arousal in the man’s voice, giving me the impression he was thoroughly enjoying the view.

“What a shame, Eleanor.  I was really beginning to get in to my stride,” Marcus laughed.  “Just two more hard strikes for good measure and then we will be on our way,” he informed both the coachman and myself with hearty amusement.

The last two blows to my bottom were indeed hard and punishing, making my body jerk with the force.  They produced a fresh crop of tears and a loud laugh of approval from the coachman. Lord Grange was to take pity on me and give my bottom a gentle pat and massage when he had finished my punishment.

“Good.  Your buttocks are blushing a gentle shade of red.  The Viscount of Blackney likes them crimson but we haven’t got time.  It is indeed a pity,” he told me, pulling down my dress to cover the evidence of my shame and punishment.  He lifted me up, forcing me to sit down on my seat with a thud. 

I closed my eyes tightly, smarting with pain when my freshly chastised bottom cheeks made contact with the leather.  Lord Grange grinned.

“Is it hurting, my love?” he teased.  “Now you know what happens when you are disobedient.  The Viscount likes a challenge from his women.  He likes to break them in by applying a whip and riding crop to their bare bottoms.  Occasionally, he uses a birch when the girl is really difficult.”

Marcus stroked my cheek ignoring the way I strained away from him.  He wiped at my tears.

“Poor little one.  Although, I have to say, watching you be birched on all fours, naked for all the world to see, would be extremely desirable.”

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