To the Dungeon With Lady Margaret
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2013 by harry lime

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A light BDSM story set in long-ago England. The castle is filled with beautiful damsels in distress and the perverted masters of the royal court wait to pounce on innocent young gentle born females from the country.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Reluctant   Rape   Coercion   Blackmail   Heterosexual   Historical   BDSM   MaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Gang Bang   Group Sex   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Water Sports   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Violence   Nudism  

Margaret Whitechapel was really not one to act like she was high-born or better than other common born folk, but she was unfortunate enough to be related to the traitor Sir Hugh of Bristol and she was a member of the royal household. Her position at court was almost a joke because her parents had lost their castle and most of their lands in a dispute with the much feared Duke of Manchester who had purchased all of her father's gambling debts to force his ruin.

She had seen the Duke moving mysteriously around the palace grounds like some will-of-the-wisp making secret deals in darkened corners. One of the ladies in waiting had told her in confidence that he was most demanding in his use of a female's body causing her great stress when he insisted on forcing her unnatural hole for unseemly pleasure. Margaret was much intrigued by this tale told in a darkened bedchamber by this attractive woman overly attentive to Margaret's own female charms under cover of darkness. She felt her female slit pulse and grow wet at the touch of the damsel's fingers and the thought of having one's bottom used so cruelly.

When it came to pass that her unmet Uncle Sir Hugh of Bristol was branded a traitor, she was beginning to think her days at court would soon be at an end and that she would soon be banished because of her family connections, or rather, her lack of family connections.

She had been opportuned on more than one occasion by a married minister of state to succumb to his wooing technique in the privacy of the kitchen pantry, but had resisted thus far on the hopes that her virginity might earn her a husband with some minor connection in the royal entourage. It was really the last hope for her family which had relocated to the shore near Bath. It was common knowledge amongst the ladies-in-waiting that she was as yet untouched causing no small degree of jealousy from several of the main contenders for connected spouses.

In fact, it was Princess Evelyn who whispered falsehoods about her to the palace security staff tasked with keeping compromising incidents away from the royal family. With her family in disgrace and a relative soon to be hung, drawn and quartered, her prospects for marriage dwindled rapidly.

The palace guard came for her in the middle of the night. They yanked her from her bed dreaming sweet dreams of a knight in shining armor and dragged her down the silent halls all the way to the basement stairs. The foul-tasting rough hand over her mouth kept her from shouting for succor in the dire circumstances.

After the basement doors slammed shut behind her, the guards relaxed and made sport with her scantily clad body in her customary nighttime wear without any corseting or layers of underskirts. The soldiers knew they were being crude to a gentle-born female but their instructions were to use this "softening up" routine to get the proud and shrill-toned bitches and gents ready for the realities of existence in a castle dungeon.

Margaret knew right away that this was the rude mercenary's job and she did not take umbrage at her treatment even though it was most unseemly. The pawing fingers at her flanks and the trickery with her unprotected nipples disgusted her but it did not make her overly taxed at her predicament. She found that the degrading treatment was in a strange way comforting to her because of the attention received by her untested female parts. She was fair to panting with excitement and that perplexed the guards who had expected an entirely different reaction.

They pulled her along behind them down the long spiraled stone stairs on a leather strap attached to a collar around her pretty neck. When they arrived at the bottom, they nudged her with their toes to crawl forward to a line in the center of the floor. She accidently placed one hand on the other side of the line and was severely worried on her flanks by several flicks of a beating cane on her scantily covered posterior. Her yelps of distress were met with scornful laughter from the guards.

She wanted to rub her stinging arse cheeks but her hands were bound now together making the attempt impossible to achieve.

"Who is this one, Sergeant?"

The ugly old soldier with the missing tooth replied with a well-disciplined tone.

"This be the one called Margaret, your worship. She's the one with the family in the poorhouse and the Uncle sitting in the tower waiting for the hangman."

Margaret saw the form of the dreaded Duke of Manchester lurking in the shadows. He seemed to be quite amused at her disheveled state crouched down on her haunches on the stone floor like some animal waiting for instructions from its trainer. She was determined to give any of them pleasure at her discomfort and managed to raise her head proudly displaying a careless smile.

"What are you waiting for man? Strip her and be quick about it. I want to see what this little bitch is hiding under those silly garments."

She was pulled to an erect stance and the guards made quick work of ripping off every stitch of clothing and leaving her standing in her humiliated nakedness right in the middle of the room lit only by flickering torches. The light played over her proud nubile breasts with nipples extended in aroused display. They were perfectly shaped and pointed up in a perky manner never having been subjected to rough treatment or the nursing of infant offspring. Her honey blond bush matched her lightly shaded hair that flowed halfway down her spine almost to the top of her split and the luscious orbs that still showed signs of the beating she had received on the way down to the dungeon.

"Get her legs spread, boys, let's see what she looks like."

The ugly Sergeant put his knee between hers and pushed her legs wide much to her embarrassment at giving up the secrets of her untested female place. The Duke showed some interest and approached into the light.

He lifted her face with his hand under her chin and instructed her,

"Open your mouth, girl, I want to see your tongue and your teeth."

Margaret was now thoroughly mortified. She was being treated like a horse on the auction block for work on some farmer's plot of land. But she was certain the Duke's interest in her mouth had nothing to do with farming or the tilling of land. She had heard tales from the ladies-in-waiting about how the knights had brought back the ways of the French in using female's lips and mouth for the pleasure of their male equipment. At the time, she thought it was just story made up for an inexperienced maiden's mind to scare her about her duties on her wedding night. To confirm her fears, the Duke inserted two fingers into her mouth and told her to,

"Suck them nicely and do not touch them with your teeth Miss Margaret or I will be forced to have my men pull them all out right here and now."

The picture of her mouth without teeth to chew her food made Margaret very careful to keep them away from the Duke's fingers and she bobbed her head up and down on them with her eyes shut tightly. The sound of the men's laughter made her angry inside but the sound of her slurping helped increase the seepage of female juices from her exposed slit. Some of the men noticed her leaking and brought it to the other's attentions with rude jests about her nasty thoughts.

She was led by the leash to a fire-pot next to the cell doors. Half buried in the burning coals was a tiny branding iron with the letter M at the end. She assumed it was the property brand of the Duke of Manchester and that her bottom was about to receive a new scar in the center of one of her cheeks.

The touch of the hot iron made Margaret screech like an angry cat amusing all of the onlookers. The experienced brander smeared her new identification tag with a glob of ordinary grease and told her to hold up her hands for the bindings to be removed. She was also taken off the leash and placed into an empty cell by the ugly Sergeant. She had no clothing but the pallet was reasonable soft even if dirty and soon she was asleep despite the throb on her right buttock from her prisoner brand.

The next morning she was taken to a large room with several other female prisoners who were all totally naked as well and the guards had a high old time of throwing bucket after bucket of cold water on them. They were given small pieces of soap to soap up their bodies and then rinsed with the same cold water.

The head dungeon master instructed that they be given grey shifts of rough linen and sandals for their feet. They looked horrible but at least she was not naked any longer. Next they sat down on a row of stools and a barber chopped off their long hair right up to the bottoms of their ears. Looking at the other girls, Margaret could only assume she looked equally plain and ordinary.

She found out that the holes in the floor at the end of each cell was for the removal of body waste and water and soon adjusted to being watched from the other side of the bars as she attending to those necessities. Her food was passed to her through a hole in the bottom of the bars in an all-purpose bowl with no eating tools. Margaret became quite adept at eating with her fingers and eating fast before they came to take it away.

It was a week later that she was visited by the married knight who had asked her for her female flesh when she was a member of the court. He seemed embarrassed by the visit but told her that he was sent to test her "openings" for possible use by males who seemed interested in her charms. Margaret was dismayed but could see the man was not in charge of his actions and she readily accepted rather than cause herself further humiliation in some other form.

The very first thing the knight did was to open her mouth and do those things the ladies had described to her with much laughter. She did not think it was very funny when the man's extended cock went so deep into her mouth that she almost retched with a gag reflex. However, they both adjusted and soon his seeds were flooding her throat and were swallowed down into her belly just as he bade her.

When he flipped her on her belly and stretched open her puckered hole, she was certain it was some sort of mistake because the priest constantly reminded her of this foreign and disgusting habit of perverted cultures. After a steady period of enthused pounding, she found that her bottom was burning with desire for deeper penetration and the sound of her partner's flesh slapping into her defenseless buttocks. They rested after that and then came the time for her to lose her cherry of virginity.

The experienced married man had already de-flowered countless country maidens offered up for his fetish of "fresh" cunt. He knew right away she was a true virgin and took her with a single hard thrust. After that she was well content with the steady movement inside her vagina and her orgasm followed soon after the man had flooded her womanhood with his seed.

The Duke of Manchester watched from the shadows approving of the way Margaret licked off the man like a submissive prisoner and was much gratified to have her as his very own property for his perverted pleasures.


(The next chapter will show how Margaret learns to use her feminine wiles to her advantage.)

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