Wages of Sin (26 page)

Sir Edmund grinned wolfishly. ‘Why, entertain our guest, my dear. What else? Now take your clothes off,' he ordered. ‘Or do I have to do it for you?'

She backed away, her hands protectively at her bosom, but he was on her in a trice. He grasped the neck of her bodice and tore it away. The remains of the gown slithered to her feet, leaving her standing naked to his lustful gaze.

She cowered away, but he seized her, twisting her arms behind her so she was forced to arch her back, her quivering breasts thrust into prominence. Trapping both her wrists in one hand he fondled them with the other, luxuriating in the feel of the soft flesh. Robin's eyes widened as she groaned and the delicate pink tips hardened beneath the touch.

‘A pretty whore, is she not?' Sir Edmund asked conversationally. His hand strayed lower, toying with the auburn curls of her pubic hair. ‘And one who enjoys her work.'

Jane shuddered as his fingers parted the lips of her vulva and plunged into the softness between. ‘See?' he commented, removing them. They glistened in the firelight. ‘One touch and she is hot for it. But then, you know that, don't you? You have sampled her wares already. Which reminds me, I have not yet punished her for that transgression.'

Dragging Jane after him, he seated himself on the bed in front of Robin and hauled her across his lap. She writhed and tried to free herself from his grasp, her slim legs flailing uselessly as the first blow landed on her clenched buttocks, making the flesh jump. She squealed as the pain erupted. Robin struggled fruitlessly against his bonds as he watched Sir Edmund's hand rise and fall, Jane's breasts bouncing with every slap. His outraged grunts and Sir Edmund's heavy breathing mingled with Jane's shrieks of terror and agony as the sound of flesh on flesh echoed through the chamber.

The soft white skin of her bottom gradually turned scarlet, the shape of his hand imprinted on her flesh like a brand of ownership. Sobs tore their way from her throat as each blow brought a fresh wave of pain, mingled with shameful excitement. Heat radiated through her lower body as she felt his member swell and push against her belly and she closed her eyes in humiliation that Robin should see her brought so low.

Finally, he was done. He pushed her from his lap, then stood over her as he unbuckled his belt and let it fall, tugging at his hose, releasing his erect cock. ‘First the punishment - then the reward,' he murmured as he bent and hauled her on to the bed. He glanced over his shoulder at Robin. ‘Watch well, boy, and see how a
real
man swives a woman.'

In front of Robin's horrified eyes, he pulled Jane's thighs apart and knelt between them with his prick in hand. She closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure as he rubbed its swollen head tantalisingly up and down her soft cleft as the other toyed with her breasts, pinching and squeezing their soft tips until they stood rigidly to attention beneath his fingers.

Tiring of this amusement, Sir Edmund gripped the plump globes of her bottom, pulled her upwards and thrust himself home. Jane whimpered as she was impaled on his member, like a butterfly on a pin. Savouring every moment of Robin's torment and his own pleasure, Sir Edmund moved slowly and sensuously in and out of the buttery softness as Jane writhed beneath him, her moans rising in crescendo as each stroke stoked the fire within.

He was moving faster now, withdrawing the full length of his prick then plunging back harder than before. Jane's control broke and she wound her legs round his waist to pull him even closer. Her nails dug into his buttocks as she urged him on, her breasts jiggling as his body pounded into hers. Finally, her back arched and she screamed as her climax exploded. Sir Edmund's hips jerked as he, too, spent his lust and he collapsed against her sweating body.

He raised his head and grinned at Robin. ‘There boy, did you enjoy my lady's performance?'

A sob of shame escaped Jane's lips at his mockery. Still panting, Sir Edmund got to his feet and sauntered over to where Robin still struggled against his bonds. ‘I hope so,' he goaded, ‘because now it's time to deal with you.'

Stooping, he pulled the dagger from his fallen belt and held it poised over the other man's groin. Robin froze, his eyes fixed on the wickedly glittering blade as it descended. With two swift movements Sir Edmund sliced away the fabric and Robin's rampant cock sprang free, its head so purple and engorged that the skin shone taut in the firelight.

‘What a compliment to your charms, my dear,' murmured Sir Edmund. ‘Even the threat of cold steel has done nothing to diminish your admirer's ardour.' He snapped his fingers. ‘Well, my love - to your duties. Our guest is waiting.'

Jane stared at him in total incomprehension, not daring to move. Sir Edmund strode across to the bed, seized her by the arm and dragged her to her feet. Pulling her bodily across the room he flung her down on her knees between Robin's bound legs. She looked up at him imploringly, but he was adamant. ‘Well, whore,' he sneered, ‘be about your business!'

Stifling a sob, she lowered her head and took the swollen head of Robin's cock between her lips. His eyes closed in tortured pleasure as her soft mouth enveloped him. Jerking his hips involuntarily he uttered a stifled groan through the gag as her tongue ran round the rim of his swollen member, exciting him even more.

Sir Edmund seized the back of her neck and forced Jane's face even further into Robin's groin. She gagged as his prick slid deeper into her mouth, almost choking her. She withdrew instinctively and Robin groaned again at the movement.

Roused again by the scene before him, Sir Edmund's own member rose in response. Quickly he knelt behind Jane, his finger parting the lips of her vulva, still wet from his earlier attentions. With one jerk he thrust himself inside her again.

Despite herself, Jane felt the familiar quickening of her own desire. Her mouth engulfed Robin's cock again, eagerly this time. Her tongue laved the surface of his knob, her head bobbing in time as Sir Edmund thrust in and out of her sex. A moan escaped Robin's lips and Jane felt his member swell and spasm as his hot seed spurted down her throat. Sir Edmund's fingers kneaded her breasts and clitoris as he rogered her roughly from behind, and as he came her own climax exploded. With a groan of despair she bowed her head and sank back on her heels, wrapping her arms about her trembling body.

Sir Edmund was the first to recover. Getting to his feet he adjusted his clothing, then reached into the pouch that dangled from his belt. ‘Here,' he sneered, taking out the scroll and flinging it down beside her. ‘Your final payment, my dear. And worth every single penny.'

At the door of the chamber he paused and looked back, taking in the sight of her total humiliation. ‘I'll leave you to set young Robin free. I'm sure you have sweet nothings to whisper in each other's ears.'

‘Oh Robin, I'm so sorry,' Jane wept, her tears dropping on his bonds as she untied him. ‘Can you ever forgive me?'

He said nothing, but he could not meet her eyes. As soon as he was free he strode from her chamber without a word or backward glance, leaving her sobbing in despair.

 

Sleep came late and bitter that night, but in the morning she woke with new resolution. It might have been dearly bought, but she had her freedom again.

‘I shall be leaving soon,' she informed Sir Edmund coldly. ‘The convent is mine. Our bargain is done.'

His response astonished her. Instead of looking dismayed, he burst into raucous laughter. ‘Oh yes, my dear, and where would you go? Back to your poverty-stricken estate? I'm sure your dear mother would be delighted to welcome home her prodigal daughter. One more mouth to feed? I hardly think so. And who else would want you after what you have shown yourself to be? No decent man takes a whore to be his wife. Even your sweet Robin loathes you now.'

He stood over her, his good eye glittering savagely as he picked up his cloak. ‘You are mine now, whatever you may say. I must ride to London for a sennight, but when I return you will be waiting for me. Ready and willing as always.' He blew her a mocking kiss. ‘Not goodbye, my sweet Jane. Merely adieu.'

She stared after him in dismay, but she was determined not to let him win. If he thought she would be waiting on his return, then he had sadly misjudged her.

 

The following morning found her at the castle gates. ‘Where do you think you're going?' demanded the guard, mindful of his colleague's previous failure of duty. She smiled at him sweetly and indicated the large wicker basket on her saddle.

‘Why, merely to take a few provisions to Father Andrew and my ailing stepfather,' she simpered, indicating the basket.

Suspiciously, he pulled back the linen cover and inspected the contents. Discovering nothing more threatening than eggs, meat and calves' foot jelly, he waved her on her way.

 

On her return she called Martha to the solar. ‘I have a proposition for you,' she began without preamble. ‘You know that the convent is now mine?' Martha nodded; kitchen gossip had told her that almost as soon as Sir Edmund had handed over the charter. ‘Good,' she continued. ‘Well, I want you to run it.'

Martha gawped at her, then sat down abruptly. ‘Me?' she demanded, when she had recovered from her initial shock. ‘Are you mad, girl? I ain't no Mother Superior. And what of Mother Ursula?'

‘I don't think you need worry about her,' said Jane. ‘Oswald is far too smitten to ever let her go.' It was true: the former Mother Superior was but a shadow of her former self, and rumour had it she was with child. She was no longer a threat to anyone. ‘So, Martha? What do you say to it?'

Martha shook her head. ‘I couldn't,' she muttered. ‘I got no schooling in such things. All that readin' and writin's a mystery to me.'

‘Father Andrew will do all that,' said Jane. ‘And see to the spiritual side of things. I spoke to him this morning when I left the charter in his keeping. It's all arranged. Come, keeping a few nuns in order would be simple for a woman who can feed an entire household on a few scrawny chickens.'

‘It ain't no use you wheedling,' muttered Martha. ‘I ain't doing it. I'm a cook, plain and simple - and thass an end of it.'

‘But you won't be the cook for much longer,' said Jane slyly. ‘Not when Sir Edmund's French chef arrives. If you're lucky, perhaps he'll let you prepare the vegetables.' She sighed and got to her feet. ‘Still, if you're happy with that...' She let her voice trail away and waited expectantly.

‘I'll do it,' snapped Martha. She folded her arms and glared at Jane mutinously. ‘But I ain't being no Mother Superior, mind. I ain't giving up that man of mine, even if he is a useless big lump.' She nodded as she worked things out in her mind. ‘I'll just sorta be in charge of things, thass all. Keep them in order.'

‘Wonderful!' Jane exclaimed, bestowing an impulsive kiss on the plump cheek. ‘You're a treasure. I knew I could rely on you.'

Blushing with pleasure, Martha left to set about organising things to her own satisfaction.

Jane's good mood lasted until the door had closed behind her. Persuading Martha to oversee the other nuns had been easy, but she was dreading what she had to do next. Robin had not even looked at her, let alone spoken to her, since last night. Still, if she wanted to escape from Sir Edmund, it had to be done. Gritting her teeth, she went in search of him.

Old habits died hard, and she found him grooming his horse in the stable. When she entered he turned away and pretended to be engrossed in his task. Straightening her shoulders, she marched up to him.

‘I know you despise me,' she said bitterly. ‘But no matter. I need your help.'

He avoided her eyes, gripping the curry-comb so hard his knuckles turned white. ‘Despise you?' he said. ‘I don't despise you. I despise myself.' He dropped his eyes and gazed at his feet. ‘I know why you did what you did - but what excuse did I have? I watched that bastard abuse you, and then... and then...' His voice faltered to a stop and he turned scarlet with shame as he remembered his reaction.

Jane laughed with relief, then took his hand. ‘What could you have done?' she asked softly. ‘You were bound and gagged - as much a victim as I. As for what came next...' She shrugged. ‘You are a man with a man's appetites. I shall forgive you, Robin... if you forgive me.'

Robin looked at her fully for the first time. ‘Forgive you...?' he began, but she stopped him with a kiss.

‘Enough,' she declared. ‘We shall put it behind us. There are more important matters to discuss.' Pulling his head down she began to whisper in his ear, and a slow smile crossed his face.

 

For the next week the sight of her riding with Robin to visit her stepfather with her basket of food became so common that the guard no longer even bothered to challenge her. On the eighth day she was ready. The basket still contained food, but this time it was for their journey.

The visit was brief. ‘Farewell, dear stepfather,' she smiled, gazing down at the ghastly living corpse, ‘and long life.' Turning on her heel, she nodded to the attending nun. ‘The air is foetid here. I shall take a walk around the convent grounds to clear my head. See that I am not disturbed.'