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any other purpose in this house, do you hear me, girl?”
    Angelica gasped, taken aback, the hotness of tears pricking the corners of her blue eyes as she nodded her head slowly, unable to speak from shock at Mary’s sudden outburst.
    “Good,” Mary said, her soft tone now returning. “I’m glad we’ve got that straight, young Angelica. Now, I’ll leave you on your own. Get some rest. You’ll no doubt need it.”
    And with that Mary left the room and Angelica fell back upon the bed, more confused about her situation than ever. Just yesterday morning, she was plain old Angelica Brook, who’d never left her village in all her nineteen years, helping her father at market. In a few short hours, she’d been wrenched from her childhood home, taken to a house like something out of a fairy tale, and given her body over to a man who was practically a stranger.  
    And even after she’d left, Mary’s words seemed to remain echoing around the room: you’re nothing but a piece of meat, to be used for his pleasure.  

Thankfully, the next few days proved uneventful for Angelica. She spent most of her time in her room, making sure that she was always dressed prettily in silk bloomers and simple cotton dresses, and she took care always to keep her hair freshly washed and smartly dressed, in case she were to be summoned by Lord Sutherland. And Mary paid her frequent visits, bringing her some of the most delicious meals Angelica had ever tasted.
    So, after a life of hardship, you would have thought that our young heroine to be blissfully happy. But that wasn’t quite the case. You see, she found herself restless. A girl such as Angelica was not used to idleness, and sometimes she thought she might drive herself mad with her own thoughts. It had been four whole days since she had set foot outside, felt the grass under foot, and breathed in fresh country air. She was used to spending most of her time outside, and she was beginning to feel like a caged bird.
    Mary was kind, and constantly asking if there was anything she needed, but Angelica couldn’t quite bring herself to ask if she were free to explore the rest of the house and the grounds as well – or whether she would be admonished for straying further than the confines of her room.
    She suspected that she was to stay hidden away, a shameful secret. So, she tried to thank her lucky stars, and get used to her life of leisure, soft sheets, and long baths. After all, if she longed to smell flowers, didn’t Mary bring huge vases of freshly cut roses every day?
    She resolved to be happy in her new little world. Perhaps she would ask Mary for some books – that way she could escape into their pages and travel the world, the way she used to do back  home.
    Besides, there was another way she busied herself, too.
    After her initial inspection by Lord Sutherland – after he’d placed his fingers between her legs like that – Angelica had spent her time exploring herself much more thoroughly, marvelling that it had taken her this long to discover the many pleasures hidden within her own body.
    Why, it was as if she had a brand new toy, right there between her legs! And the more she touched herself, learning the subtle ways her young body responded to different stimulation, the more intrigued and excited she became with herself.
    Most of all, she became fascinated by her climax. It was somewhat difficult to achieve, and often took a while at her own hand, but when it did come, it was like nothing else in the world. Her knees would shake, she’d tremble all over, her mind would flash blank, her breathing would grow shallow, and best of all, she would expel a strange clear wetness, squirting out from deep within herself at the most heightened moment of her pleasure, just as she had done that first time with Lord Sutherland.
    Oh, if only he were touching me again, Angelica thought, wondering why he hadn’t summoned her to that plush purple room again.

Eventually, the moment came