Circus Girl by Obohobo

Synopsis

A girl circus spooks the horses of a lord's coach. She brings them under control again and is befriended by the lord's crippled son. However his lordship has other ideas concerning their relationship.

Circus Girl

by obohobo

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF

If you are underage or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Copyright Obohobo 2003

Chapter One. Stopping the coach

"Whoa!! Whoa!!" Joshua yelled at the horses and they shied causing the coach to stop suddenly and its occupants to be thrown forward and then as the horses started off again at an even greater speed, they were thrown back again. Turning to the girl who had run under their heads he swore, "Stupid bitch, yer could have us all killed!" But the girl was desperate. The horses were going faster than she anticipated but she needed to get away from the men who were chasing her. As the lead horse came by, momentarily slowed by the shy, she leapt with great agility on to its back.

Joshua pulled the reins back as hard as he could but the spooked horses were not responding too well. He could do little more than watch as the girl leaned forward and pulled held the lead reins and was speaking calmly to the horse. Gradually the panic subsided and the team and its coach slowed and finally stopped nearly a mile later.

"You ought to be whipped for that." Joshua yelled.

"You’d still be agoing hell for leather if I hadn’t," laughed the girl.

"What’s happening Joshua?" Lord Haversham descended angrily from his coach.

"This young lady ran in front of us and spooked the horses, then she jumped up and rode Hector......"

"And brought him under control again, Sir," The girl smiled.

Lady Haversham emerged holding a kerchief to her head. "Did she cause this huge lump on my head, Nigel?" she simperingly enquired, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It seems so my dear, but it seems she also got us under control again."

"I’m sorry Madam. It was an accident. The men would have caught me and robbed me of the few pennies I earned at the market."

"So I get this monstrous affliction to save you a few pennies." Lady Haversham’s voice was full of fury.

"I am sorry Madam, but them men would have beaten me far worse if I hadn’t got away. I’m sorry Sir. I get on my way again if that’s alright."

"No it is not alright, miss," His Lordship answered, "You have caused us a great deal of hardship by your actions and you must be punished. Joshua, take this girl up alongside you and bring her to the manor."

Joshua was reluctant to leave his seat with the horses still rather jumpy but he fastened the reins and put on the brake, not that he thought it would do much good if the horses decided to bolt again. Hardly had his feet hit the ground when the team, sensing no one holding them, started moving forward. Portly Joshua was too slow to catch Hector’s bit but the girl wasn’t. She pulled his head down and then seeing Joshua approach eased it and allowed the coach forward. Laughing, she called back, "I’ll ride up front," and again with a single leap fell astride Hector's back and after a short few yards had him under control again. Although he wouldn’t admit it to his wife, Nigel was impressed with the girl’s agility, and with the pleasant aspect of her raised bottom.

"You might just touch that with your whip Joshua," he whispered. They had hardly started off again when Joshua did indeed flick the whip at the girl’s bum. She immediately turned and swore at him and threatened that he’d lose the whip if he did it again.

Nigel, watching through the front opening, praised Joshua and encouraged him to keep at it. The whip flicked her arse a little harder. The girl felt the sharp sting, swore and then removed the bag from around her neck and tied it to Hector’s harness. Even though the carriage was going at quite a lick, she swung round until she was facing Joshua and she could see the owner’s face behind the opening. With care now because the road was somewhat holed, she crouched tiger-like on Hector’s back. In a flash she leapt to the rear horse just as Joshua was going to flick the whip at her breasts. As she landed she grabbed to whip halfway along its length and pulled. Half losing his balance, Joshua let go of the whip and the reins. For the second time the horses were given free rein and they started to pick up speed.

The girl tossed to whip aside and again made her way on to Hector’s back. Finding his reins she pulled back and the two horses slowed but she didn’t stop them. This was exciting. She loved the power she had when controlling horses. Slowly she stood, her bare feet gripping Hector’s flank muscles and still keeping the pair under control allowed them to pick up speed again. She had no idea where they were heading but guessed some one would tell her if they needed to turn off this road. Sure enough in about a mile, Joshua called out and pointed to an ornate gateway. Skilfully she turned the coach into the entrance and proceeded at speed along the drive, pulling up by the manicured lawns at the front entrance. Two grooms were waiting and once the horses were quieted she threw them the reins, picked up her bag and jumped to the ground. Several other people had emerged from the house and watched the scene in surprise. Only one came forward and spoke.

"What happened Mother?" he asked as he opened the door and Lady Haversham’s tearful face appeared.

"That wench caused this huge ugly lump on my head, Peter" she wailed.

"Mother, tis only a small knock. I will go in no time." Peter knew how his mother exaggerated all her illnesses. Peter hobbled around to where the girl was standing. "Who are you girl."

"Betsy, Sir." Betsy looked and the young man, not much older than she but certainly not as agile. His right leg was deformed by an accident at childbirth and not only was it shorter than his left but the foot was turned inwards.

Peter couldn’t help but smile at the dirty-faced girl in ragged clothing. Her face was alight with life and fun. "What happened Betsy?" By now his father stood alongside him.

"She spooked the horses and then took over ... oh its a long story but now she is going to feel the taste the strap." Lord Haversham signaled to one of the servants to hold her. Betsy had other ideas. Her bag still on the ground she did two backward somersaults on to the lawn and then a series of cartwheels that had the servants moving in all directions. Coming to a halt near her bag, Betsy quickly shouldered it and started to move away.

"Wait," Peter said, "Where’d you learn to do that? I wish I could."

"I was part of a travelling circus from a little child but then the boss ran off with one of the women and all the money so I’ve had to earn what I could at markets tumbling and juggling."

"Show us."

"We haven’t time for that Peter," his father interrupted, "Let’s get the girl inside and punished."

"No father, wait. From what I hear it wasn’t really her fault. Let us see what she can do."

Betsy removed five balls from her bag and soon had them spinning various patterns in the air. Replacing them she took out a canvass roll and looked around. "Over there," she indicated a wooden gate that shut off the stable part of the estate. Peter hobbled over with Betsy and stood by the gate. He had a vague suspicion of what she was going to do. He’d been to circuses. "Do you think you can stand completely still? Or would you rather order one of the servants to take your place?" Betsy asked quietly, "You know what I am going to do, don’t you?"

Lord Haversham had stayed behind to comfort his wife for a few moments and by the time he caught up Betsy had a fan of wicked looking knives in her left hand and was spinning one in the air with her right. "Stop!" roared his lordship but Betsy still with a huge smile on her face, span the knife closer to him.

"Please stand back Sir, then no one will get hurt. He asked to see what I could do and now you all will find out." His lordship moved away from the spinning knife. Turning in a circle Betsy addressed the onlookers like she had many audiences in the past. "Ladies and gentlemen, I crave your indulgence for a few moments. Please stand well back and keep absolutely quiet. That way no one will come to any harm. This man, Peter I think you called him, asked me to show my talents. Now he will see them from a view that most others won’t. He will not be harmed unless he makes a sudden move or you who are watching startle me. Therefore I ask again that you be completely quiet. Are you ready Peter?" Peter nodded and she asked him to put his arms out like Christ on the cross. He did.

Seconds later the first knife shuddered into the wood above Peter’s head. Lady Haversham screamed and fainted. Betsy threw the other nine knives, each one accurately found its mark including one between his legs, until Peter was ringed by them. One came close to his wrist when in his fear, he lowered his arm slightly but otherwise they were equally spaced.

Peter’s face betrayed his fear when the first few knives flew but now it was red with embarrassment. His bladder had given way and he pissed his trousers. Betsy noticed this as she removed the knives and returned them to the roll. "I’m sorry Sir, you must have been really afraid and yet you were so brave. I could easily have killed you."

"Hold her," Lord Haversham ordered, "She is not to get away this time." Betsy felt arms holding her. "Take her to Henry and order twenty strokes with the strap and tell him to lay them on good and hard."

"No father, please. She doesn’t deserve that. She may have upset the horses but that was an accident. Sounds to me that afterwards she could have saved your lives and now she has provided us with some great entertainment. She’s given you an afternoon of excitement you will remember for many years. She doesn’t deserve punishment. Give her a meal and send her on her way at least."

"And what about the cruel blow to your mother? What about the loss of the whip?"

"They are nothing father. You know that. Let her go."

"No, son I’ll not even halve her punishment. Twenty strokes and that is my last word."

Chapter Two. Punished

Betsy found herself half dragged half carried into the servants quarters, her dress was removed and she was bound over a long narrow bench. Watched by his lordship and various other servants, Henry the butler, laid the heavy leather strap across Betsy’s white arse with well paced strokes. Betsy screamed, cried and pleaded but the punishment was inflicted hard and with precision. Henry knew his job and delighted in it. Soon the poor girls arse was afire with an intense pain.

Peter couldn’t bear to watch the punishment but could hear her cries while he changed his trousers. A girl like that should be an asset not an object to be punished for a possible accident. The noise subsided and he knew they would have left her strapped down so she could cry and sob in peace and reflect on her misdeeds. He went down. Henry had his cock out and was ramming it into the girl without any thought for the pain he was causing her. One of the maids was watching. Betsy started screaming again but Henry kept thrusting into her as hard as he could. "Trouble causing waif’s like you need a good thrashing and a good hard cock to keep you out of mischief," Henry laughed at her.

"Get off of her you oaf. Get back to your proper duties." Peter yelled at the man. Normally he was quiet and didn’t make a fuss over anything but for once he decided to make a stand and assert his authority. He waited until the butler was out of sight and turning to the maid ordered, "Untie her." The maid looked questioningly at him. "Hurry up Martha if you don’t want to take her place on the bench."

"Are you sure Sir? Mr. Henry said...."

"Do it now!" When she had complied, "Take her to my room and do what you can to ease her pain. Peter hobbled along behind watching the naked form painfully walking ahead of him. They laid Betsy on the bed.

"What’s the best treatment Martha? You’ve no doubt felt the strap on your bum too."

Martha blushed. "Not as bad as this. I found wet towels helped and Cook has some fat and herbs stuff she makes up. Shall I ask her?"

While she was gone, Peter talked quietly with the sobbing girl. "I’m sorry Betsy, they had no need to do this. You can stay here for a while. This is my room. No one comes in unless instructed to. This wing is part of the servants' area. I was originally put here to keep me out of the way of the guests at parties but I like it because its out of the way and I can raid the kitchen when I want. Cook is a good woman."

"I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to make the horse shy but the men had sticks and really would have hurt me." Martha returned with the homemade salve and applied it liberally to Betsy’s now colourful bottom. Peter watched as Martha gently massaged the whole of her sore arse and began to get an erection when the maid opened the girls thighs and applied the cream to her ravaged cunt. He waited patiently until the maid finished and stood up. Betsy had quietened down a little but was still sobbing.

"Thank you Martha, that will be all for now. Would you mind asking Cook to send dinner here for me and for Betsy too, please."

"Yes Sir. Sir?" Peter nodded, "Sir, Mr. Henry wasn’t very pleased. I told him you released her. He’d probably have used the strap on me if I said I undid her even if it was on your instructions."

Peter smiled at her, "Yes, Martha, I undid her bonds myself. You are quite right."

When they were alone Peter sat and talked with Betsy, he finding out how she became a circus performer, she slowly recovering, found out a little of life at the hall and how Peter fitted in with the family.

Because of his affliction, Peter was always left out from his three older brother's activities. They didn’t despise him, they did make fun of him as children do, but generally they just ignored him. He couldn’t take part in any of their sports, he couldn’t climb trees, he wasn’t interested in hunting and later, it was decided he couldn’t attend Oxford because that too was largely sport orientated. He’d had a private tutor and had taken up studying botany particularly the wild flowers and grasses found on the estate. A side attribute was that he had learned to paint flowers to illustrate his notes.

"Betsy?" Peter hesitantly asked later, "Would you like me to arrange for you to have a room of your own or would you stay with me? You’ll be safe here, possibly safer than in your own room."

"You’ve been looking at me naked for some hours now so I guess I might as well stay here. Maybe I’ll get a look at you then. Fair’s fair." Some of Betsy’s spirit had returned but her arse muscles were still extremely sore and didn’t like moving. Nor did they like being sat upon.

That night they lay side by side, holding hands but not touching each other. Betsy noticed he was quite well endowed and sported an erection several times but he never attempted to impose himself on her. She was curious as to why this was but didn’t ask.

Next morning, after they had both used the chamber pot and Peter was dressing, she asked if he could get her dress and things back. She was stiff but could walk albeit very stiffly but she thought that might wear off after a while. Cook had her bag but said the dress was filthy and too torn to wear. She sent a maid to a store cupboard to find another and a pair of shoes.

Dressed for the first time since entering the house Betsy went with Peter to breakfast in the kitchen. Cook and most of the maids and boys were very pleasant and treated her well and were eager to learn more about her circus acts, Henry though was full of self importance of completely overbearing. However, as Peter treated her as a guest and not some stray waif, he had little authority over her. He was still displeased Peter had not only stopped him from fucking the wench before her shot his load but had released her early. Judging by the redness around Martha’s eyes, he had taken some of his anger out on her. They found out later when Martha came into his room to make the bed.

"It was late Sir. Henry came into the maid's room without even knocking and dragged me to his bed. I struggled Sir and didn’t co-operate with what he wanted so he tied me to the bedpost with some rope he keeps there for when us maids don’t want him to. Its not the first time I’ve been tied there Sir. He spanked me hard first with his hand and then with a belt. I would’ve screamed but he tied a scarf around my mouth so I couldn’t. "That’ll teach you to interfere when I’m punishing a bitch like that. Now I’m going to take this scarf off but if you start a screaming it will go back on and you’ll feel my belt again." He pushed me over the bed with my hands still tied and thrust his cock right into my bum hole Sir and had me that way. It hurt Sir, very much Sir. He said he knew it was me who untied her Sir. He said you would never have untied her yourself."

"It think Henry will have to go. Trouble is Mother. She wants him and I know he fucks her regularly. Have you had anything on your bottom yet Martha?"

"No Sir, there hasn’t been time."

"Go and get the salve Martha. Tell cook it is for Betsy."

"I’ve never had it in my bottom," Betsy commented as she smoothed the salve into Martha’s bottom, "It must really hurt. Your hole looks very red."

"It’s not that bad if they takes their time and uses some fat. I had it that way at one of the parties and it only hurt to start with when Lord Granville’s son had me. He wasn’t too big and opened me quite gently. The first bit was painful but once in, it was all right and I could take it and even like it. Henry though is bigger and he just forced it in and did it hard. It hurt so bad the first time but after he came and left it in and started again it wasn’t so bad."

"He had you twice in the bottom hole?" Peter queried

"Yes Sir. And what was worse Sir he made me suck him afterwards," Martha seemed to be relieved at being able to talk to someone about it. "All the others could hear me crying out and after it was over, Henry shamed me more by taking me back to the maid's room and showing the girls my sore bum and hole and then took me to the boys room and showed them and made them feel me. He even threatened the boys with the same treatment if they didn’t do what they should."

"We ought to get rid of him," Peter repeated, "If only mother would allow it."

"Doesn’t his Lordship?" Betsy innocently asked.

"We have to tend his Lordships bed when asked," Martha cut in before Peter answered. Most of us don’t mind if he’s in a good mood and he’ll often give us an extra shilling if we are good enough. If he’s in a bad mood we might get spanked or worse first. Sorry Sir, I shouldn’t have said that. But I guess you know what goes on." Peter nodded.

Chapter Three. Caned

"Aagh Gwen, keep doing it." Lady Haversham was nearly at the peak of an orgasm. Gwen, her maid, was suckling her breasts and massaging her clit in the way she knew her mistress liked. Both women were naked and although Gwen was no longer young, she could bring her mistress off far better than any of the younger more attractive maids. Lord Haversham, sometimes watched and finished off giving his wife a good rogering but this morning he had young Lily in his bed. They were lying quietly and could hear the noises emanating from the neighbouring bedroom. Both husband and wife knew of and concurred with each other’s predilections.

"Put your fingers right in Gwenny. Nibble my titties a bit more. Aaaaaghhh!!" Lady Haversham screamed out her climax. Gwen moved down her mistress's body and licked the juices dribbling from her cunt.

Lily and Lord Nigel grinned and snuggled closer to each other. The sounds of his wife’s lovemaking had made him hard again. "Open them for me Lilly." Lily responded and opened her thighs widely to allow his Lordship full access to her womanhood.

"Fuck me Sir, Fuck me hard Sir. Please." Lord Nigel didn’t need any encouragement. Now the noises came from his room. Lady Haversham and Gwen peeped in and watched for a while before returning to their own bed.

Quietness reined in both rooms for a while until Lady Haversham started discussing ‘the circus waif’ with Gwen. "Henry said Master Peter stopped him from giving her a good going over after he’d strapped her, Ma’am," Gwen informed her mistress.

"Did, he now. And she only had the strap she deserved anyway. I’d have caned or birched her. Where is the waif now?"

"She spent the night with Peter, Ma’am."

"In Peter’s bed?"

Gwen nodded. "So Martha said. They were both in the bed naked when she went in this morning."

"Hmm. This is what we will do Gwen."

Betsy was showing Peter the principles of juggling when a knock came and she was asked to see Lady Violet Haversham. It sounded ominous as the elderly maid insisted M’lady wanted to see Betsy alone. She found Lady Violet still in bed still with a cold pad on her head although there really wasn’t any need for it.

"Turn round girl and lift your dress," Lady Violet snapped. Betsy did as requested. "A little red that’s all. Poor compensation for my sufferings. Face me girl." Betsy looked her straight in the eyes. "You slept with my son last night, I believe?"

"Yes Ma’am"

"Were you naked?"

"Yes Ma’am."

"Was he?"

"Yes Ma’am."

"Did her roger you?"

"No, Ma’am. We didn’t do anything except hold hands and sleep."

"Why?"

"He didn’t seem to want to Ma’am."

"But you would have let him?"

"Yes Ma’am. I guess so Ma’am."

"Did he feel those tiny breasts of yours?"

"I don’t think so Ma’am. Not while I was awake."

"You know you are the first wench to spend a whole night in his bed and even then he didn’t have you. What’s wrong with the boy? We’ve tried getting the maids to seduce him and two of the local gentry girls who wanted a wealthy husband but he has spurned them all. Yet you get into his bed. He must have some feelings for you although I don’t know why he should for a misbehaved wench with a figure that is more like a boy’s." Lady Violet paused and then went on, "You will try and take him in you tonight."

"I shall be on my way again by then, M’lady."

"Wearing one of our dresses? I think not girl."

"But Ma’am I don’t have another now and Peter gave me this one."

"MASTER Peter to you girl and don’t you forget it. Remove the dress now!"

Crying again, Betsy did as she was told. "Hmmm. I think we need the marks on your bottom freshened up again too," Lady Violet went on maliciously, "Gwen, get Henry to bring a cane. I’m sure he’ll enjoy putting some stripes across that tiny bum, stripes that will last a while longer than a little redness. That may help to teach her some manners. Lock the door as you leave."

Gwen was already silently standing by the door so Betsy had no chance of escape that way. She tried the other door, the one to his Lordship’s room. It too was locked. All she could do was plead but it was to no avail. Lady Violet wanted to see her punished. Wanted to see her suffer. "I shall enjoy seeing you squeal under Henry’s caning," she said, "And seeing him roger you afterwards. Master Peter can’t protect you here.

Peter, had kept his ears and eyes open while Betsy was away. He knew his mother still felt aggrieved and probably would want to punish her further. He heard voices from below and Henry’s loud footsteps climbing the stairs and heading along the passageway to the East Wing. Peter hurried as fast as his gammy leg would allow but Henry must have heard him and locked a hallway door as soon as he passed through. Peter knew he would have to go back and along the ground floor and up the other stairs. This would take time. He heard a scream and knew he was too late to prevent her getting another punishment.

Alone in the locked room with two women and a man, Betsy didn’t have much chance of fighting off her attackers. She might be more agile even with an already sore bum but she was soon overpowered and dragged and bent over a chair. Gwen pushed Betsy’s face to the chair seat and leaning over her, held her in position. "Give her a good dozen Henry, I want to hear her yell. Lay them on quickly before that young son of mine gets here."

Henry wasted no time. Laying the strokes on hard and fast, he soon had Betsy yelling and screaming at the top of her voice. "That’s more like it Henry. Now drop your breeches and let us see what that pego of yours looks like when it is pushed up her bottom. Gwen will hold her open and I’ll aim it for you." Henry hardly had time to get his feet out of his breeches before Lady Violet grabbed his prick and centred it on Betsy’s bottom hole.

"Push hard Henry!" Willingly obeying his mistress, Henry forced his prick in the poor girls unlubricated arse.

Another piercing scream filled the room just as Peter arrived at the door. It was locked.

"Leave her alone," he yelled hammering on the door, "She’s my guest and you can’t treat a guest like that."

Hearing his voice Betsy and sensing her captors were momentarily more concerned with listening to Peter than with her she twisted lithely from Gwen’s grasp and grabbed the cane from the bed where Henry’s had left it. Another quick twist although it caused further the pain in her arse freed her and she stood facing them. Henry advanced on her but held back when she swished the cane towards his balls. Slowly she made her way backwards to the door and turned the key. Peter entered.

"What’s going on in.....Mother? Betsy?" Although his voice was quiet, all could sense the fury in it.

"Peter, sorry Master Peter," Betsy spoke through her tears but didn’t relax her command with the cane, "Did you give me that dress or was I only borrowing it?"

"I gave it to you. It’s yours. The girl for whom it was made left long ago. The dress is yours. Why?" He stopped when he saw Betsy’s raw arse, "Oh my God! Why mother? Why?"

"Gwen, please pass me my dress." Gwen looked at her mistress for guidance and received a nod.

"Why did you have her caned Mother? It’s this oaf Henry that needs flogging."

"She didn’t suffer enough yesterday for my injury and the indignities I went through. She’s only a street slut."

"Mother, you do so exaggerate. You had a little bump and more excitement that you would normally get in a whole year. Now I demand we have no more of this nonsense. She is my personal guest and as such will be treated with the hospitality of a guest. You will all leave her alone until she decides and is again fit enough to leave. Remember Henry," Peter’s voice now took on a menacing tone, "She is now my personal guest. Touch her again if you dare. Touch her and you will be standing against the wooden gate watching as knives come at you. Hoping and trusting her aim is true. Praying you do not wet your pants in public. Am I understood?"

"Very well, Sir."

Back in his bedroom, Peter again called on Martha to administer to Betsy’s sore bum but she had hardly returned with the salve when Henry called her away and left Peter to apply it. He was shy to do so.

"Peter, don’t worry. You are so brave at times like when you stood against the gate and just now in the room with your mother, but you just seem so afraid to touch me. Put the stuff on. Be as gentle as you can but don’t worry if it hurts a little to make it better."

"What did my mother want with you, apart from more revenge?" Peter asked an hour later as she lay on the bed and he sat at her side.

"She seemed interested in why you didn’t fuck, sorry roger, me last night. Wanted to know all that we did. I thought she was going to give me hell for doing it with you but it seemed more like the other way. She told me I was to seduce you tonight. That’s when I said I would be gone and .... Peter? Why didn’t you do it last night? I would have let you. And you got hard several times."

"Betsy it’s a longish story but ..... it was because you were too sore and I didn’t want to impose on you."

"Now tell me the truth, Peter. That was only an excuse. I can tell."

Peter waited for some time before answering. "I must have been about fourteen at the time and by then I knew about the parties my parents organised. Orgies more than parties. I could have attended but I was too shy. I cannot dance and it makes me all the more conscious of my leg. At one party they suggested a couple of girls seduce me. They came naked into my room and started cavorting around me. I started to run but my bad leg caught the rug and I tripped and my head hit the tallboy. I was unconscious to some time. Since then I have avoided getting involved with girls or women and always lock my door when they have a party."

"Why did you let me sleep in your bed then?"

"You didn’t seem a threat. You were injured too." They lay talking comfortably for a while until Betsy asked, "What would you normally do during the day, Peter?"

"I’d be working on my book of flowers." Peter went and found his manuscript.

"The pictures are lovely," Betsy exclaimed, "They are so real looking. What are you going to call your book."

Peter showed her the title page and then realised she wasn’t able to read. "Sorry," he said, "I forgot you probably hadn’t had much schooling."

Lunch was eaten in the kitchen with the staff and under Henry’s glare. Betsy had to stand but she did so with defiance, determined not to cry in front of the butler. Afterwards they walked slowly in the grounds as Peter explained each of the wild flowers they came across. Betsy was fascinated but only understood a fraction of what she was told. Her cheerful spirit had returned and she was able to laugh and converse with playful glee tempered only by the sharp pain if she tried to move quickly.

That night Peter lost his virginity. Betsy cuddled him to her as they both lay side by side. They kissed. Slow tender kisses, She could feel his cock against her belly but he made no effort to insert it. Rolling on her back and opening her legs, Betsy pulled Peter on top of her. She groaned softly as her sore arse took the weight but she was resigned to it. Gently she inserted Peter’s cock and once engulfed in her cunt, instinct took over and Peter worked it to and fro until she felt it explode.

Betsy held him there. Her arse became accustomed to the weight and the pain seemed somewhat neutralised. Gradually she felt him harden again and with a little urging he fucked her for the second time in an hour. This time he took longer before spurting his seed in her and during that time she was able to climax herself. "Good job I took the precaution of putting the vinegar sponge in." she thought.

In the morning when they awoke Peter needed no stimulation or help. As soon as he knew Betsy was awake, his cock was inside her, seemingly wanting to make up for lost time. He fucked her hard and she enjoyed it.

That morning she walked a little further around the estate with Peter. She knew a few of the herbs and some of the common names to the flowers they encountered but Peter’s knowledge and enthusiasm for them, far surpassed hers. He was forever picking an insignificant tiny flower, she would have missed and relating something about it. She was soon caught up with his eagerness and love for them. They collected a few items, which he stored in a metal and leather vasculum to bring home for later study.

For a few days the life seemed idyllic apart from when Henry was around. He always looked menacing, seemingly bent on revenge. They rode to parts of the estate and despite his short leg, Peter could ride well and used a horse whenever he could. He found a young filly named Queenie for Betsy. She wasn’t a thoroughbred like most of the horses in the stable but was quiet and broad. Betsy liked riding bare back and once she and the filly had learned to trust each other, tried some of her circus skills. Towards the end of the second week, on the flat she could stand on the horses back and do a back flip on to the ground.

Chapter Four. The party

One pleasant morning, Peter was searching amongst the shrubbery looking for small nondescript but quite rare plant and Betsy was turning a few cartwheels on the lawn. The weather was warm and her stiffness was slowly going but she had difficulty in getting enough spring to do backward somersaults.

Lord Nigel came up to her. "Would you be kind enough to entertain us with your tricks at our party on Saturday week Betsy?"

"Is it a party or an orgy Sir?"

"Which ever you like to call it, my dear."

"I will have to see if Master Peter will go, M’Lord. I wouldn’t go without him. If we do go, what would be expected on me?"

"Only some juggling and dancing like you are doing now. If you perform to our liking you could well earn yourself a sovereign or two. Try and persuade my son to come for once. He’s not the virgin he was, I understand."

"I’ll see what he says Sir. He can be quite stubborn as you know."

"Betsy? You know that nothing can come of your relationship with my son, don’t you. We would never give him permission to marry you so you would at best just be his whore until he tires of you. His toy for a while only. You do not have the breeding to become a lady." Tears sprang to Betsy’s eyes. She hadn’t thought of marriage but knew she liked, even loved Peter. "Despite what happened on that first day, I do like you Betsy. You have a lot of spirit and courage but you can’t read, do not know how to behave in social company, or even how to use the utensils at dinner. You could not possibly make Peter a suitable wife. Think about it. I have no objection to your staying although my wife would prefer you well gone but while here, we will continue to treat you as a guest, a guest for keeping Peter happy. Understood?" Betsy nodded, tears flowing from her eyes.

"What was all that about?" Peter asked when they were alone again.

"He invited me to perform at the party on Saturday week."

"That didn’t make you cry!"

"He said we could never marry. I wouldn’t make you a suitable wife. I didn’t have the breeding. I was just your whore and you would tire of me."

"Betsy dear, in the short time you have been here you have brought more happiness into my life than I have ever known. In most people’s eyes I am just a cripple. Deformed. Even the servants laugh at me behind my back. I know they call me Lord Hop-along. They think I am timid and shy and a pushover. Well perhaps I am. However, since being the target for a knife thrower who was a complete stranger to me, they seem to have just a little more respect for my courage. You, who are so agile, treat me as an equal. You don’t seem to mind my dragging you back and even if you do not have social breeding as he puts it, you have more life than any of the socialites." Tears were again streaming down Betsy‘s face. Peter went on. "My father can stop me marrying for another two years, until I am 21. After that I can and will make up my own mind. He can throw me out of the hall but I do own a smaller place we call ‘The Cottage’ with only a few acres and I have enough income to keep us and perhaps just a couple of servants. Nothing grandiose but I don’t think either of us want that."

"I’ve never had any sort of house so a small one would be a vast improvement on that! But would you even want to think about marrying me?"

"As of this moment, yes. But I do think we ought to find out a lot more about each other before we make a final decision. I don’t think you are very keen on life at the hall. Henry and my mother frighten you even though you try not to show it. Am I right?" Betsy nodded.

"Now about the party. I told you what sort of parties they are. They are sexual orgies and I cannot see them just wanting you to do a bit of juggling and a few cartwheels. At the very least you would be doing them naked in front of an audience. You wouldn’t be earning a sovereign or two just doing what they have already seen. However, if you do want to go, I will go with you. We would need to find a decent dress for you though and I would guess you might need some instruction in table etiquette."

They asked Martha about a dress. "Well, we can go and have a look but I don’t know if there is anything suitable in the store room," Martha replied. "The servants dresses are too plain and most of the gentry women have more bosoms than you. Sorry Miss I shouldn’t have said that."

"That’s alright Martha. I know I am more of a boy’s build than most ladies."

"And you’ll want something that comes off easily too Miss. Us maids only have little corsets and an apron and the invited ladies have dresses that button top to bottom and do without the tight lace-up corsets."

"So it really is an orgy Martha?"

"Yes, Miss. We do it because we gets paid extra, especially if we get spanked and rogered. In any case Henry insists we do. Once one of the maids refused and next day he thrashed her terrible."

All three looked in the storeroom but nothing seemed likely to fit. "How about a page boy outfit Miss?" Martha asked.

Betsy looked at Peter who said, "Betsy, you’ll certainly be different. All the society ladies will know about you anyway and will be ready to gossip about the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you eat and they would condemn any dress that you wore, so give them something to get their teeth into. Wear it as though it was absolutely right thing to wear."

*****

"You should bow not curtsy, young man," the voluptuous dowager countess of Ardenly spoke sharply to Betsy.

"As you wish M’Lady," smiled Betsy. She was determined not to let these haughty people get her down. She did a fair imitation of a man bowing low. It didn’t satisfy the countess.

"Walter," she spoke to a young man near her, "Show this wretch how to do a low bow." Walter demonstrated with a flourish, his head almost touching his knees.

By now everyone’s eyes were on Betsy. They knew the countess was trying to humiliate her. "Oh, I can easily bow as low as that," laughed Betsy as she took off her cap and shook her curls. With a highly exaggerated flourish she swept the cap between her legs and followed it with her head and, startling the onlookers, did a back flip to land on her feet again. The countess had moved smartly backwards in alarm but didn’t say anything. Betsy though turned to her companion, "Walter, that’s what I would call a low bow."

"Sir Walter," the countess snapped.

"As you wish M’Lady." Betsy again beamed a smile at her and even noticed a twinkle in the older woman’s eye.

Dinner was a little strained. To mix the company, no couples were allowed to sit with each other so Betsy found herself between two middle-aged aristocrats who boringly talked about horse racing. Betsy at first fumbled over which knife to use and how to hold it but then gave up and ate as she would normally do. Rarely had she had food of this quality and the wine was good too although she decided to limit the amount she drank. She guessed there would be other tests she would have to overcome later.

Dinner over, the band started playing and dancing began. Betsy had no idea of the steps so tried to sit them out especially as it soon became obvious dancing was only an excuse to fondle one’s partner. Very soon, most of the ladies had their bosoms fully exposed and the men their breeches open. After two dances, couples were retiring into corners to openly caress each other. Betsy noticed they were not the couples that were together when she was introduced.

Her boyish garb somewhat stifled the men in their attempt to see her breasts but like the others she was fondled through the material and indeed was a little aroused by it. It was not long before Lord Nigel called the gathering together and announced Betsy would entertain them with a juggling act. He had briefed her a few minutes before hand as to what they would expect. She didn’t want to do it but decided for Peter’s sake she would have to try.

Looking round the room she noticed all the guests were naked or nearly so. Some of the maids were as well and Henry stood by the door with a full erection on view. Peter too she noticed, was trouserless and being massaged by a very elderly lady who seemed to be enjoying it more than Peter. "I’ve got to get out of this," she thought. She had a plan.

"My Lord would you please clear the whole of the centre of the room for me please and have all the guests sit around the walls. I need space to perform and also need to know where the guests are so neither of us gets hurt." Lord Nigel, guessing she was going to do some of her gymnastics, acceded to her request.

Betsy started by juggling five balls in various patterns until the audience started to get restless and one man yelled, "Get them off!"

"All in good time Sir," Betsy laughed, "I don’t have that much to show." It brought forth laughter. Slowly, while still juggling, she unfastened each button of her jacket and shrugged it off. Flicking a shoe she added it to the balls, then another. Now she had five balls and two shoes in the air. One by one she threw a ball at Peter. Juggling the two shoes she removed her trousers until she was naked. The pattern of the two shoes now changed as she bent and threw them between her legs or did a high stepping dances with the shoes describing graceful arcs under and over her legs. She finished that act by tossing both shoes in the air catching them and throwing them to Peter. The applause was spontaneous and well deserved. Even the countess joined in.

Betsy now started turning cartwheels and doing forward and backward somersaults, ending near Peter. Dragging him to the centre of the floor she whispered for him to lie down on his back. He did so, his erection pointing to the ceiling. Betsy again leapt and jumped this time ending with a sideways split over Peter’s erection. She felt it partly enter before jumping up again and doing a fore and aft splits with her legs and again impaling herself on the shaft. Once again she leapt and this time ended crouching on his cock. "Sit up," she murmured and when Peter did so she lifted him to his feet still with his cock inside her. "Take me out of here." Peter hobbled to the door and then releasing Betsy they returned to his room. As they left the applause died away. It was the climax to the party and anything that happened afterwards would seem tame by comparison. Betsy had effectively sabotaged the party.

Two days later, Betsy spoke with Peter on their future. "Peter, dear, I am going to have to go. I don’t wish to leave you but I cannot stand the life here any longer. I am not a guest and I am not a servant. I am something between that nobody recognises. After the party your father thinks I am a whore and keeps trying to get his cock in me. Henry has twice waylaid me, with the same intent but each time I have managed to get away. I love you but it has been made clear to me, that nothing can come of it so maybe I should leave before I eventually get pushed out."

"No Betsy" Don’t go. I want you to stay. We can work things out."

"You’ll find somebody else Peter. Somebody with breeding." Betsy’s vision was blurred by the tears flowing from her eyes. "In the morning I will set off and see if I can get a job in the circus that is touring the area. Martha says it’s the one with the fat lady clown and I know her slightly. They will be in Histon the day after tomorrow and I should be able to walk there by then." All that night Peter pleaded and begged her to stay but it was to no avail.

Next morning Peter saw she was well stocked with food and gave her a little money, enough for food and lodgings for a week or two and then took her to the stables. "I want you to take Queenie," Peter told her, "She is on loan to you for as long as you like but if you ever have no further need of her, bring her back here. But when you bring her back, you will have to stay too. You must agree to stay at least long enough for us to try and work something out."

As Betsy led Queenie out Lord Nigel stopped them and Peter explained why she was taking the horse and the conditions he had imposed. He seemed genuinely sorry to see her go but that may have had more to do with her party piece than friendship for her as a person.

After a very tearful goodbye and last minute pleading for her to stay, Betsy rode off and the next day joined with the circus.

Chapter Five. Circus rape

What’s the matter Betsy?" Rebecca enquired. Betsy had come into the caravan crying and sobbing. "That sod Benjamin been after you again? We heard you yelling earlier and then its been quiet."

The circus had grown since Betsy last knew it. Now there were a dozen permanent members of the troupe and they had a tent in which to perform. Betsy fitted in well with the others, all except Benjamin, the ringmaster.

Rebecca, the fat lady clown was a fun loving person and she and Betsy got on well together. Together they formed a triple act with Rebecca as the fat bouncy bobble of a woman contrasting with Betsy and James both lithe agile shrimps. Betsy was able to share Rebecca’s caravan so didn’t have to find accommodation or live in the open. The other performers included a fire-eater and his wife who did a tight rope act and spun hoops and lassos. Betsy slowly trained Queenie until she could safely perform leaps and jumps from her back. James also doubled as her partner for her knife-throwing act and they got on well enough together for her to sleep in his bed on occasions.

Benjamin though was always trying to seduce her even though he was married and his wife was part of the circus. "Mystic Rosemarie" she called herself but everyone knew she did more than rub her crystal ball for some of the male clients. When Betsy had complained to her of Benjamin’s behaviour she just laughed and said, "The more women he fucks, the less of a load I have to bear."

"Yes, it’s bloody Benjamin and sodding Rosie," Betsy answered Becky’s question, "Why can’t they leave me alone. I’m not one of the prettier ones. I hate his pompous arse and now I’m so sore I might not work tomorrow. "

"What did he do tonight then?" Becky asked and seeing her friend burst into more tears pulled her into her bed and gave her a cuddle. "Tell your big fat mother deary." Betsy found herself enfolded in warmth of Rebecca’s large breasts. She felt the older woman’s hands slip down under her nightshirt and caress her bare buttocks. It was not the first time Betsy had been in bed with Rebecca so she knew what to expect. "Please don’t touch my cunnie Becky, it’s too sore." After cuddling for a while in silence, Rebecca lifted off her nightshirt and helped Betsy do the same. Betsy’s small frame almost melted into the voluptuous flesh. It was cosy. Safe. Secure.

"Now before I let you suckle my nips, Betsy dear, you are going to tell me what happened out there tonight."

Still crying and sniffling at the thought, Betsy hesitantly started to tell her friend. "He must have followed me out to the latrine hole. I had just squatted down and started to piss when he opens the sack door and comes in. I yelled at him to get out but he grabbed my shoulders and held me so I was off balance over the shit hole. It was then I noticed his cock was already sticking hard out of his breeches and pointing straight at my face. "Well my untouchable little bitch, if you don’t want to have to climb your way out of the shit down there you’d better start sucking my cock and afterwards I’m taking you to my bed and fucking you properly." "No!" I screamed at him but he pushed me further over the hole. His feet straddled it and his arms under my armpits held me backwards and almost level. My head was right over the shit heap looking up directly at his cock and balls. I knew he could easily let go and I would go headfirst down."

Betsy paused and Rebecca rubbed her arse and inside her thighs, "Sorry dear, we all must have heard you screaming but didn’t dare do anything about it. He pays our wages. He’s a real bastard. We ought to cut his cock right off. Go on deary, get it off you chest then perhaps we can think of something."

"He pulled my head up closer to his prick and again told me to suck it. I shook my head, no. "Very well then perhaps you’ll like this better." Once more he lifted me till my nose was almost touching the end of his pisser. Before I knew it he started to piss and pissed all over my face. Some went in my eyes, some up my nose and I started to cough and choke and in doing so opened my mouth. Piss went in and so did his prick. "Don’t you even think about biting bitch otherwise you’re down in the shit heap and when you come up you’ll taste my whip. Now suck." I had no option. Luckily it didn’t take him long to come. He didn’t let me go though but said, "Well that wasn’t bad to start with, now you’re coming to my van and I’m giving that nice tight cunt of yours a good fucking. You’re not saying no to the Ringmaster any longer. I get to fuck all the girls in my circus even that fat slob you sleep with." Sorry Becky but that’s what he said."

"Yeah, dear. I know what he’s like. I’ve been forced to have him in here but it’s not very often he wants a mountain of flesh like me." Betsy felt the woman grimaced even though she couldn’t see her face. ""Go on. Tell me all."

"He tossed me over his shoulder and carried me to his caravan. Rosie was inside so I thought she might help me. How wrong I was. She greeted him by saying, "You got her then. I’ll clear the table." I was laid along it facing the lamp. Benjamin held me while Rosie tied my legs to the table legs and then removed my shift. The top have was wet with piss and she laughed when she was told what happened. "You’ve got to learn to do what we say here little lady," she said, "And if my Benjamin wants a little bit of your cunt, you just have to give it."

"She likes to watch him fucking the girls," Rebecca commented. "She even wants to take part sometimes."

"Yeah, she did with me. She tied my hands to the other legs and left my head over the end of the table. I still shouted and swore at them but she stifled that by standing over my head and wrapping her thighs around my face. My nose stuck in her smelly cunt. I could hear Benjamin laughing and taunting me about my small tits. Then he started squeezing them. Rosie opened her legs for a moment and for a few seconds I saw Benny rubbing his prick to get it ready to fuck it in me. Rosie snarled, "Take a good look at it bitch. You’re going to be getting that into you good a proper from now on. Now get your tongue into my cunt unless you want to taste piss again." She tightened her thighs over me again. I didn’t do anything until I felt Benjamin’s prick rammed up me. I cried out. A spurt of piss covered my face. I screamed again and Rosie grabbed my jaw and held it open and gave me another spurt. Benjamin was now fucking me as hard as he could and with her cunt over my face I was forced to swallow the piss. The bitch released me again and said, "You want a full load of piss or you gonna get sucking me?" I kept my mouth closed determined not to give in. She didn’t do anything until Benjamin finished.

"Now Betsy bitch," she growled, "You are going to do what I say. You are going to open your mouth wide and take all my piss and then you are going to suck me until I get off. Until you do Benny is going to stroke you tender cunt with his whip." I saw him get the whip and move some distance away. He flicked the whip and the tail end sliced across my slit, Rosie closed her thighs on me to prevent my screaming. After four terrible lashes my cunt was on fire and I knew I would have to do as the bitch wanted. I opened my mouth. I tried not to swallow but I couldn’t help but take a good deal of in down my throat. Fortunately the whipping stopped as soon as I opened my mouth. I guess he was thinking about my not being able to perform. Eventually Rosie shuddered and I knew she came and soon after I was released. " Bit tender there are you?" Benny felt my cunnie, "Perhaps now you’ll come and open your legs when asked," he grinned, "At that will probably be tomorrow and perhaps then I will try your arsehole." They let me go after that. We’ve got to stop them Becky. If we all get together we can. We must think up something."

During the next day, Betsy managed to talk with the others but none could come up with a plan although all agreed something needed to be done. Jenny, the attractive young tightrope walker was particularly keen to see him get his comeuppance. She frequently had been ordered to his caravan and forced to have sex with them. James and Benito agreed to help if they could. Benito’s wife had been subjected to their desires although not when he was around.

That evening’s performance was before an almost full house. Benjamin as ringmaster remained at the ringside while the three clowns did their tumbling act. Towards the end he entered and flicked his whip at Betsy’s arse and caught her with several painful blows. To the audience it seemed as if it was part of the act until Betsy shouted loudly enough for all to hear, "Stop or you’ll get a taste of your own medicine." She added a few choice swear words so the crowd was in no doubt now that she was not liking it but they cheered the ringmaster on. Another painful lash across her arse. Rebecca, James and the other performers were about to step in when Betsy took action on her own. Two backflips and a cartwheel brought her alongside Benjamin before he realised she had moved. Suddenly grabbing the whip she brought it down hard across the ringmasters arse. Now the position was reversed, so was the loyalty on the crowd. They cheered and clapped and egged her to thrash him but Betsy had other ideas. First she herded him around the ring like a horse but only occasionally landing a lash on him. Most times just the presence and noise kept Benjamin moving where she wanted him.

Rosemarie tried to enter the ring and help her husband but Benito grabbed her and threw her over his shoulders. The crowd knew they were seeing a real feud now, not a show put on for their benefit.

"James," Betsy shouted without her eyes leaving Benjamin, "Bring my knives and board into the ring." Rebecca and James at once cottoned on to what Betsy intended. Benjamin hadn’t caught her words but went white when he saw the knife board wheeled into the ring.

"NO! No!! You can’t!" He yelled. Deciding to make a run for it he made part of the distance to the entrance when Betsy’s whip curled around an ankle and he fell heavily to the ground. "Take him to the board and hold him there," Betsy commanded James and Rebecca. However, Benjamin struggled until Jenny brought some rope and bound him with his arms outstretched. "Let me go!" Benjamin screamed, "The bitch is going to kill me! You can see it in her eyes! She wants to murder me for last night." So he babbled on.

Betsy spun her knives and deftly caught each one. The audience had quietened. Betsy took her stance, knife tip between two fingers ready to throw. A woman’s voice shouted, "Aim for his balls dear!"

Betsy returned the knife into its fan. "Ladies and gentleman. As you know doubt have worked out for yourselves, this is not our ordinary show. Last night this man and his wife raped me and whipped me. As you saw he continued to whip me during my act. He is now secured to the board and entirely at my mercy. A little slip with my aim could be deadly. He is a much larger man than my usual target so there is less room on the board for me to place the knives. They are sharp and they are deadly. Last night he had me very afraid and humiliated. Now it is his turn. I do not wish to kill him and will not try to do so but as always with this act only a very little disturbance could distract my aim by a fraction of an inch with very painful consequences. So ladies and gentlemen, I must ask you to be completely quiet and still until I have finished. To the lady who suggested it, I would dearly love to pin his balls to the wall. Much will depend on how far they are hanging down when I throw the last knife. Now quietness please. I need to concentrate."

"Thud!" The first knife quivered in the board less than an inch above Benjamin’s head. "Keep still Benny boy. I cannot guarantee to miss you if you move. After the second and third knives thundered into the board either side of the ringmaster’s neck a dark stain appeared down the front of his trousers. Now the crowd couldn’t contain themselves with laughter and it took some minutes before Betsy had them quiet enough to continue. She smiled to herself as she saw what the audience couldn’t, his trousers were hanging down at the seat more than normal. He shit in his pants.

Speeding two knives in quick succession, they landed just under each outstretched wrist. Two more quivered under his armpits, one pinning his jacket. It was closer to his body than she intended but she told herself he moved. "Benny boy, I told you not to move. That last one was a bit close wasn’t it." For a moment it looked as if Benjamin was going to faint but he seemed to recover but his face was ashen. "Three left Benny boy. Don’t move your legs now." Two more knives closely fenced in his hip bones.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, the final knife." Betsy raised her voice so the crowd could hear clearly. "We all know where it is going, the only doubt is how close I can place it to his manhood without doing any damage to him. Can I just pin the crotch of his trousers to the wood without drawing blood? Problem is I cannot see or know how far it is hanging down and I am certainly not going to feel in the mess he has made, so it’s guesswork. Once more please. Quiet." All the audience held their breath. Betsy took her time flipping the knife a time or two to try and settle her own nerves, "Thud!!" The knife had indeed pierced the fabric but so far there didn’t seem to be any blood. Benjamin had fainted completely this time. "Wheel him around so everyone gets a good look." Benito dumped Rosemarie and helped James push the board with Benjamin on, around the arena just as they did when she finished her performance with James. Betsy removed her knives and bowed. The applause from the audience was deafening and quickly revived the ringmaster.

Next morning Benjamin was recovered enough to tell Betsy she was sacked. "I think not Benny. Everyone in this circus is behind me. If I’m sacked everyone else will go too. You and Rosie will have to move this whole shebang on your own. Further more, you both are going to have to agree not molest any of us in any way. If any of the ladies here complains about your behaviour you could well end up being a knife thrower’s target again! Naked! You have until after breakfast to make up your mind." The rest of the troupe stood solidly behind Betsy and murmured their agreement.

Chapter Six. Martha’s ordeal

"You still don’t seem very happy," Rebecca remarked to her friend. "Are you still pining for your lordly lover?" It had been two weeks since the incident in the ring. Now an uneasy truce had been established between the troupe and the ringmaster and his wife. They worked together as a team but remained separate socially.

"I can’t get him out of my mind, even though I try, Becky. I only knew him for a short time and yet......" A tear trickled down her cheek. "I still don’t know if I made the right decision. I like the excitement of being part of the circus. I really do and when I’m on in front of a crowd I feel great but there is always the let down afterwards."

"You have friends here Betsy."

"Yes, I know Becky. You’re very good to me and James is too. I like him and I suppose one day we could get together but I’ll have to get Peter out of my mind first. James is nice in bed and I’ve enjoyed myself the nights I’ve spent with him but it wouldn’t be fair on him if I let it go further. Not for the time being anyway. He’s too much like Peter and in the dark that's whose face I see. That’s whose prick I feel inside me when really it is James."

"Why don’t you go and see him again Betsy?"

"His parents were so against me and I was thrashed several times. They won’t allow Peter to marry me and he can’t do so on his own for another eighteen months. Even if we did marry they would banish him from the family although I don’t think that would matter too much to him. If I went back now, at best I would be his whore in the eyes of his family. Probably I would remain that way even if we did marry."

*****

Knock, knock. "Can I come in Sir?" Martha’s voice held a sob in its tone.

"Go away Martha. I don’t need any company and it’s very late." Master Peter sounded angry. He guessed correctly that Martha had been ordered to his bed ‘to cheer him up’.

"Oh please Sir. I’ll get another thrashing if you send me away. Henry’s just waiting for me in the kitchen. Please let me in Sir, please."

Reluctantly and angrily Peter put down his book. Grumpily he unlocked the door, let her in and locked it behind her. "I’ll sleep on the floor Sir if you wish," Martha pleaded, "We don’t have to do anything if you don’t wish to Sir. I know how you miss Miss Betsy Sir."

"I suppose mother or father sent you, Martha?"

Martha nodded, "Yes Sir, they told Henry that if I didn’t seduce you, he was to give me another hiding. They said I was to cheer you up." Martha paused, "They said you had a face as long as an elephant’s prick, Sir." She gave a little smile. "I expect that’s quite long Sir."

"Yes I expect it is." Peter too gave a little laugh.

Peter looked at her, shaking in front of him and relaxed. He felt sorry for the girl and knew she had a hard time at the house. "It too cold to sleep on the floor Martha. Get yourself undressed and get under covers here. I guess father or mother probably had too much wine at the party." Sitting on the bed he watched as she undressed, wishing it was Betsy. Martha’s body was more attractive in many ways. She was about the same height as Betsy but her figure was much fuller with much larger breasts. One of the reasons she was so popular at the orgy parties his father and mother organised.

When Martha turned away from him and removed her dress, Peter noticed the broad fresh stripes across her arse. "Who strapped you this time Martha?" he enquired as the pair snuggled under the bedclothes.

"The Duke of somewhere Sir. Her ladyship called him Horace."

"The Duke of Edenridge. I’m sorry you have to put up with Father’s parties Martha. How come you get strapped?"

"Her ladyship just decided my bottom wasn’t warm enough and the Duke decided he would be the one to remedy it, Sir."

"You must hate having to attend and be forced into fucking and doing other things with the guests."

"Parts are alright Sir, but I’d already had three men in me by then so I was rather tender. As you probably know Sir, they all try and do it as hard a possible thinking that’s how we like it. Not like when Alfred, that’s my boyfriend in the village, does it. He’s much more gentle. Do you want to do me now Sir? I can feel you’re ready."

"Martha, I think we’ll get some sleep now. Perhaps in the morning. Somehow I feel I would be cheating on Betsy although I know that’s silly because she has gone and probably will never come back. But I would like to cuddle you Martha, just to feel the warmth of your body against mine."

*****

"Betsy..... Betsy....." Martha felt the arms around her tighten and pull her close to his body.

"It’s alright Sir. It’s me, Martha." It was still dark and Martha had no idea of the time but she knew she’d been asleep for a long while. Her thighs felt the hardness of Peter’s prick. "Sir? Pretend I’m Betsy if you like. Relieve yourself. It doesn’t matter to me. Call me Betsy if you wish. In the dark you may not notice much difference." She rolled Peter over on to her and almost instinctively he responded by gently entering his prick. "It’s alright Sir, do it as you wish to do it."

Peter slowly and lovingly fucked her until he climaxed and withdrew. "Sorry Martha, I don’t think you came with me. It was over too quickly. Sorry."

"That’s alright Sir. You can try again later." Martha giggled.

"Martha, if you are going to sleep in my bed, there is one thing you have to stop doing. Stop calling me Sir. Makes me feel that I am paying a whore to be with me. Call me Peter when we’re alone."

"Yes, Sir.....Peter."

"Martha? Did they say how often you were to sleep with me?"

"No Si... Peter. I thought it would just be for the one night but it could be longer if you wished."

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, Peter, I would. As long as you don’t expect me to love you and want to marry you or anything, but if you just want to cuddle and fuck like last night, I’m more than willing. In fact I would love to spend my nights here if only to get Henry off my back."

"I think I will inform father that I am taking you as my personal maid. That will give me full control over you and if you’re disobedient, I get to smack you." He gave he bum a gentle pat.

So it was he visited his father that morning after insisting Martha join him at the breakfast table. Henry was annoyed, Martha should have been cleaning stoves that morning and hadn’t arrived down until Lord Peter brought her to breakfast and treated her like his mistress.

"Father, for once I have to thank you. I thank you for giving Martha the task of humouring me in bed. A task she did so very well, I want to keep her as my personal maid and mistress. It will perhaps help me get over Betsy and I know that I only want her for company and for allowing me to gratify my sexual desires."

"You mean you like fucking her," interrupted his father.

"Yes Sir, I do but I know nothing more will come of it. Will you allow me to take her as mine and absolve her from her normal work. That should help keep my mind from Betsy."

"I’m glad she’s having some effect on you my boy. By all means take her as yours. It will put Henry’s nose out of joint but that might not be a bad thing."

As usual Peter ate lunch with the rest of the staff and afterwards he announced Martha’s promotion. Most seemed pleased but Henry scowled and said he didn’t know how they would cope short staffed. "I want to make this quite clear to everyone, that Martha is my sole responsibility now. If you have cause for complaint about her behaviour, come to me and I will deal with it. No one, and I repeat no one else is to punish her except on my instructions."

All went well for two weeks. Martha liked playing mistress and not having to do manual work. Most of her work was done in the evening or at night. Work she enjoyed as Peter was a kind and considerate lover. Henry decided he could get his own back when Peter decided to ride to Hatch End some ten miles away and was due to spend the night with a botanist there. Martha waved him off and returned inside little suspecting Henry was planning his revenge. He’d seen her ladyship and got her tacit approval to chastise the girl for slacking in her duties. An hour after Peter left, his lordship went out for a hour or two’s shooting. Without any of the masters in the house Henry went to the kitchen and found Martha chatting to the cook and idly drying a few pans to pass the time. Without a word he picked her up and carried her to the punishment bench. Despite her screams and struggles he stripped off her clothing and fastened her to the bench.

Cook tried to intervene. "She’s done nothing wrong Henry, you daren’t touch her. Master Peter will go berserk when he finds out. Leave her alone. She’s done nothing but what she’s been told to do."

"Get back to your kitchen woman," Henry growled, "And the rest of you, get back to work. Her ladyship has given me permission to thrash her and thrash her I will!"

"No Henry," Cook persisted, "You can’t........ Oooowww!! Oooowww!! Aaagh!!" Henry lashed his cane twice across cook’s breasts and as she turned away gave her another severe cut across her back. The rest of the onlookers scurried away.

"No Henry!" Martha screamed, "No, Lord Peter does not permit it. No leave me alone."

"His lordship is away and by the time he returns you will be nice and tender for him. I’ll make sure of that and her ladyship will support me." He brought the cane down hard on the exposed bum cheeks raising a livid welt. Again and again he brought the cane down anywhere he pleased. Buttocks, thighs, back. All received more than their fair share of punishment. Seeing she was nearly fainting with the pain, Henry threw down the cane and opened his breeches just in time to see her ladyship and Gwen watching. He received a nod of approval.

Lord Nigel returned home after only two hours. With muddy boots, he entered the back way into the kitchen and saw cook trying to put fat on cane marks across her breasts. Screams and cries were coming from upstairs. "What’s happened Cook?" he demanded. She told him as one of the boys pulled his lordship’s boots off. Angrily he stomped up the stairs muttering to Cook as she followed him, "Peter was recovering from that circus girl and now this will put him back months. I’ll...." His words were cut off at the sight of Martha’s welted body. Two maids were applying wet cloths to her back and buttocks. "My God! He’s gone too far this time. Even I wouldn’t have thrashed her like this. It’ll be months before she’s healed. Look after her girls." Returning downstairs he ordered Henry to be locked in his room.

*****

For once Peter was not just angry, he was furious. His blood boiled at the sight of Martha lying on the bed, her body covered with welts. He sat alongside her and spoke quietly for a while and then obtained the story from Cook and she showed him the welts she’d received.

He went to first to see his father and mother and then to Henry’s room. His parents followed, wanting to see just how their son would react and deal with the situation. Peter raised his voice to a level unknown to those who knew him. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you disobey my orders Henry?"

"Her ladyship gave me permission, Sir"

"Mother?"

"That’s not true Peter. Gwen told me there was a problem down there and when we arrived we put and end to it."

"That’s a lie!" Henry yelled.

"You will pay for this," Peter’s voice was now calmer and more at its usual level. "Cook," he said turning to see she had followed him in, "Get the houseboys in here, please.". Henry moved away. "Stay where you are Henry.."

In moments all the houseboys arrived and Peter ordered them to take Henry downstairs, "Strip him and fasten him to the punishment bench. Make sure he is fastened down well and leave him for an hour while I decide what to do and speak a little with Martha. Rest assured I will deal with him most severely. He has hurt a woman to get revenge for her helping me. He’s disobeyed my very clear instructions. I will decide exactly what to do later. For now let him think on what he has done and wait to find out what I will do."

For an hour he sat and held Martha’s hand and talked quietly to her. Finally he stood up and went to his father and obtained his agreement for the punishment plan he’d decided upon.

After lunch he asked all the staff to assemble by the punishment bench. His mother and father attended too. All were wondering just what quiet, timid Peter would do. They were not left long in doubt. When Peter spoke his voice was low but all could sense the anger he felt. "Henry Batsby, you disobeyed my orders. You thrashed a poor girl who you should have had no authority over. You thrashed her unreasonably and then raped her. We could take you to the authorities and you would probably be hanged. Instead I am going to give you a caning like you gave Martha and then Cook will deal with you for what you did to her. Afterwards you will be dismissed from this household without references or, and this is my mother’s suggestion, you will be demoted to houseboy status. Cook will henceforth be in charge of disciplining staff. You will no longer be allowed to cane or strap anyone for any reason. You may choose. Either you leave tomorrow after breakfast or if you stay on, it will be on the terms I have stated."

"You can’t do that Sir. You do not employ me, his Lordship does." Henry spoke out, trying to sound defiant.

"And I have given my full and utter backing to my son. He has my full support. I have only seen criminals punished as severely as Martha. You are now a criminal and deserve the thrashing I hope my son will give you. You are then dismissed as butler and can only remain as a lowly servant. You will move out of your room and into the houseboys. I am temporarily promoting Richard in your place and will revue the position in a week or two."

Peter took the cane and laid the first stroke across Henry’s arse. Seeing the welt and hearing the cry revolted him but he knew he had to do it. In his mind he’d decided on twenty strokes and he laid them on methodically to the man’s buttocks and back. No where were the welts as severe as Martha’s but even so the man was yelling and begging for mercy long before Peter had finished. He handed Cook the cane.

"If you please Sir," Cook started hesitantly, "If you please. Could we turn him over? Much more on this side will break open the skin and it’s his prick that made her, and many others here, suffer. Peter nodded and the houseboys turned the struggling Henry face up on the bench. Cook took her opportunity to make up for the still very painful stripes on her tits. First she lashed his thighs and prick with six hard strokes and then two more across his nipples. By this time Henry was screaming pitifully.

Peter stayed cook’s hand. "Take the cane and his strap and put them in the kitchen. You have sole use of them in future. Leave Henry here for an hour for all to see and then have him released and taken back to his room. He will stay there for tonight only. Open his door at breakfast tomorrow. If he stays set him to do Richard’s work, if he leaves, check his bags before he goes."

Chapter Seven. Highway robbery

"The circus is playing at Long Benton this weekend Peter. Why don’t you go and see if Betsy is there?" It was now a month after her thrashing and Martha could move around but the welts were still very clear. "You are still in love with her aren’t you?"

"I don’t want to influence her to come back. She’s probably better off in her own element, with her own kind of people, Martha."

Martha persisted and in the end he agreed to go provided she came with him. He sent a booking for a room by courier to the Golden Fleece so they wouldn’t have the fifteen-mile journey home after the show.

Martha still found it difficult to sit for long periods especially on the hard seat of the carriage but they made it to Long Benton with plenty of time to spare and could watch as the circus paraded through the street. It took a few minutes before they recognised Betsy in her clown’s costume and she appeared to concentrate on her juggling and not to notice them. However, Betsy did notice the pair together and wondered if Martha had replaced her in Peter’s affections.

After the performance she quickly changed out of costume and wandered around the sideshows until she spotted the pair. Peter had his arm around Martha and seemed to be supported her as he walked in his ungainly way to the village centre. Discreetly she followed and saw them enter the inn together.

"He’s taken another of the maids as his lover now!" she told Rebecca later. "She much prettier than I am so he won’t want me now."

*****

For six months she toured towns in the eastern counties and made enough money to keep herself and have just a little to spare. She enjoyed what she did but still often cried at night. Rebecca came to her then and lay beside her cradling and comforting the younger girl. She knew the full story now and could see that returning to the manor would likely end in tragedy. All she hoped for was that time would heal the wounds. She knew too, that Betsy wasn’t getting any younger and soon her agility would fail and she could have an accident that would prevent her performing especially this was likely to happen if Betsy was in one of her sorrowful moods.

The circus had set up camp on common land outside the village of Asfordingly, the village where she had originally spooked Lord Nigel’s horses. Rebecca, Betsy and the two other performers sat in the Wagon’s Way Inn supping jars of ale. Four rough looking men entered and sat at a long table just behind the group. Betsy, dressed in her by now usual clown’s clothes, sat in the corner half hidden by Rebecca’s large form.

"Hah, there you are." A voice Betsy recognised and peering around Rebecca with horror she saw Henry’s large form, but it wasn’t her he was talking too. It was the four men. Henry took a jug of ale and joined them. Betsy tuned in to their conversation. She hardly caught the words of the four men but Henry couldn’t seem to lower his voice to more than a very loud whisper which was clearly audible.

"Her Ladyship left Thaxfield early this morning and should arrive at the cross roads about dusk, about an hour’s time. You know what to do?" The men nodded and muttered their agreement. "And we’ll meet here in three days to share out the money. You know what will happen to your wife James if you try and double cross me so don’t even think about it. I want enough to leave that bloody house and get my own back on that Lady bitch." The group again muttered agreement and finished their ale and left. Henry ordered another.

"Hide me from that man, Rebecca while I slip away. I must warn them at the manor."

It was easy for Betsy to get away unseen. She took Queenie and rode fast to the manor. A groom hearing the horse appeared just as she arrived and she threw him the reins. "Wipe her down but have her ready again in a few minutes." Betsy ordered. The groom of course knew Betsy even dressed as she was, but was hardly expecting her to be giving him orders. "Do it or it will be your hide," Betsy snapped. Martha appeared at the door expecting a visitor, Betsy rushed passed her, "Where’s Peter and Lord Nigel?" she asked.

"Master Peter’s in the library Miss and I think Lord Nigel is in the drawing room." Betsy ran to the library. Tearfully she hugged Peter and then pushed him away. "Get all the men together," she ordered, "Make sure as many as can be are armed and have them ready to walk to the cross roads. Now! Your mother’s life is in danger. I talk to you later."

Leaving him to get on with her instructions she strode into the drawing room without knocking. Nigel had one of the maids with him and was fondling her breasts. "Leave her Nigel," Betsy ordered. Nigel was taken aback and was about to give her a piece of his mind for entering a room without being asked and for not using his title when the look in her eye stopped him. "Get your coat and pistols and be ready to ride to the cross roads. Your wife’s coach is about to be robbed. And order any servants who are around to detain Henry and tie him up until we return." Seeing a look of bewilderment on his face, Betsy went on, "Sorry Sir, but if you wish to see your wife alive, then we must hurry. I’ll tell you more as we go along."

*****

"If they are going to ambush the coach, they will probably be hiding in the woods this side of the cross roads," Lord Nigel stated. "We had better keep well back in this copse until they show themselves. You had better be right over this Miss or you won’t sit for a month."

"How would I know your wife was coming back by coach at this time if what I said wasn’t true?"

"That’s one reason I believe you."

For half an hour they waited for the sound of hooves to announce the imminent arrival of the coach. Hardly had it passed over the crossing when four horsemen appeared out of the shadows. Two grabbed the reins. A shot rang out and Joshua fell. Fortunately the bullet went into his shoulder but the force with the rotund man hit the ground cracked several ribs. The coach door was opened and her ladyship and Gwen were pulled out. One man held a pistol to Lady Haversham’s head, "Where’s the valuables?" the man asked Gwen. Gwen indicated a box under the seat and this was quickly removed.

"Snap!" One of Lord Nigel’s men stood on a branch. In the quiet of the evening gloom it sounded like a rifle shot and alerted the bandits. However by this time two of the manor gamekeepers were level with the coach and on orders from Nigel shot the two horsemen holding the horses. The coach shot forward as the team bolted and careered along the road.

"Drop your weapons. You are surrounded." His Lordship ordered. The man carrying the box dropped it and tried to run but didn’t get very far before a shot wounded him.

"Drop your weapon." Nigel again ordered.

"Not likely Sir. Not while I ‘ave ‘er ladyship. You daren’t shoot. I got no choice but to tak ‘er. And it will na’ matter if I kill ‘er or noo. I’ll get hung for this anyway if they catches me so killin’ ‘er ain’t goin’ to make any diffrence. You stay where’s yer are or she gits it." He started to back away dragging her ladyship with him. She, terrified was screaming and yelling at the top of her voice.

Betsy meanwhile had worked her way silently around the woodland now appeared, ghost-like in her clown’s costume, behind the bandit. A knife gleamed in her hand for a second before it flashed through the air catching the bandit in the neck. Blood flew everywhere much of it covering her ladyship’s body and clothing. She thought she had been killed and fainted away.

*****

"You know our agreement," Peter said, "If you brought Queenie back you had to stay as well."

"What about Martha? She’s taken my place in your life hasn’t she?"

"Yes and no. Come and see her, please," Peter requested. Martha was in Peter’s bedroom, which confirmed Betsy’s suspicions. "Martha please remove your dress so that Betsy can see one reason why you are here."

"Oh my God Martha. Henry?"

Martha nodded and then went on, "Betsy, I’ve slept with Peter most of the time since you left, partly for his comfort but largely for my safety. I don’t love him. I have Alfred and hope to marry him in a few months time. I’ll have to take part time work but we’ll manage. Peter loves you and always has. I’ve just been a substitute. Stay with him here."

"Or at the cottage Betsy. You’ve seen it and liked it."

"But I can’t leave my friends at the circus. Not without a goodbye or anything."

"Invite them to give a performance here. We’ll pay them well after what you did."

Two days later, Betsy gave her last performance as a member of the circus. Nigel sponsored them to attend and invited all his friends. Lady Haversham he ordered to attend even though she complained of faintness and ill health from having bandit blood on her. However when she learned the countess was attending her health dramatically improved. The event was a great success for the circus and the audience.

Later Nigel came to Betsy. "I have formally thanked you for saving my wife. Now I am giving you my blessing to be with Peter. He was very morose and unwell when you left here so we gave him Martha as his mistress which improved him considerably but we all knew she was only a makeshift. She tells me he often called your name in the dark when she was fucking him. Now he is almost like a young boy again which is what he should be. If you both decide you wish to marry, then I will not stand in your way. You are free to stay here or you may prefer to move into the cottage. That will be up to you. I know neither of you relish our parties although I would not mind a repeat performance of the one you attended." Nigel laughed. "I am not saying you have to stay, only that you are free to do so if you wish. My wife has almost forgiven you for spraying her with blood especially as she now realises it could have been her blood if the highway man had his way."

"Thank you M’Lord. Peter and I have discussed this at great length and have decided to move into the cottage as soon as we can get it ready. Probably in the next week or so. We have asked Martha to come with us as even after all this time she is not fully healed. Alfred, her future husband will be joining us a gardener and handyman. We are discussing having a double wedding and I wish my circus friends to attend as well so it may well be an unusual and memorable day."

"I just hope you don’t walk down the aisle juggling balls, circus girl" laughed Lord Haversham. "And doing a strip at the same time," he guffawed. "You have my blessing Betsy. Keep him happy and give me a grandson or granddaughter."

Finis