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doddering maidservant, who barely seemed to register the manacles upon my person, then he ushered me upstairs. When I reached the top of the stairs, I became aware that he was standing close behind me, and could feel his breath on my neck.  

    ‘Which way, sir,’ I asked timidly, ‘to my chamber?’

    Behind me, the Duke laughed.   ‘ Your chamber,’ he laughed. ‘It is my chamber , you wicked wench, and it always will be.’ He pushed me forwards, almost tripping me over my own feet, and then guided me to a door on the right.

    Inside, I was so shocked and astounded by the palatial chamber that awaited me that I almost backed away from it instinctively, as it I had touched hot coals. ‘Goodness…’ I breathed again.

    ‘You are to come over to the bed now,’ said the Duke, authoritatively, ‘and I am to make you my bride.’

    I followed him over to the incredible four-poster bed, which appeared something like ten times the size of my bed back at the blacksmith’s house. He took me by the wrists, and then lifted the chain between my wrists into the air, pushing it against one of the pillars of the four poster bed. I realised that there was a small slit in this pillar, and that the chain was slipping between them, so that, when the chain fell, I was attached to the pillar, shackled to it, with no means of escape.

    ‘Get on the bed,’ said the Duke, ‘and let’s see what sort of animal my bride turns out to be.’

    I climbed into the bed, my arms out in front of me, chained to the bedpost, pushing my breasts down onto the mattress, and my buttocks high up into the air.  

    ‘On all fours,’ said the Duke, behind me, his breath heavy once more.

    I heard him removing his shoes, and heard the gold buckles hitting the floor with a thud. Then I heard him undoing the golden buttons on his jacket, and I got onto my hands and knees, wondering if this was the position that people normally… consummated in.

    ‘That’s it,’ said the Duke, his voice a little softer, as if he was warming to me a little now that he could see how compliant I was being. ‘Good little wench,’ he said, his hands suddenly either side of my buttocks, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me back, a little closer to him.

    I felt his hands, then, exploring my underbelly, as if I was a cow and he was seeking out my udders, to milk me, and soon enough he happened upon my plentiful breasts, pulling the bodice of my dress drown with a sharp tug, ripping the fabric, so that my breasts tumbled free, my nipples hanging low on the mattress, the fat flesh of my bosom hanging heavily beneath me. The Duke’s fingers found my nipples, giving each one a hard squeeze, tweaking them this way and that, his fingernails pushing into me, making me squirm, but causing bolts of lightning to shoot from my breasts down to my navel at the same time. Lightning that was almost… pleasurable.

    ‘That’s it, my little animal,’ he said, heaving me moan. ‘You can make noises if you like, little animal,’ he said. ‘But no words.’

    I must confess that this is not as terrible as it sounds, reader. I knew not how human beings consummated their marriage, having never had any information on such things, and to be perfectly honest, I confess that I had been surprised, so far, at how easy it was proving to be. My worry had been that I would have to do things, not have things done to me. I worried that I would do those things badly, and would displease my husband, making him cast me out and seek out a more welcome woman in my place.

    Having my nipples tweaked and being called an ‘animal’ was, in fact, making that soft little place between my legs begin to tingle. And for that reason, I think, my new husband was being rather good to me.

    Suddenly, at that moment, I felt a smack upon my backside, and then the skirts of my dress lifted up, and I could feel the cool air on my arse. Being a poor country girl, I had no other undergarments in addition to the