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reached out and grabbed her free arm. Now scared out of her mind, she struggled, trying in vain to free herself, but with one arm securely fastened to the headboard of the large bed, she had no chance. She tried to scratch his face, bite his arm, kick at his legs, but to no avail. He merely laughed, loving it when women fought him.
    Eventually her thrashing slowed as he’d known it would, and she sagged onto the edge of the bed, breathing hard. He released the wrist he’d been holding, and she rubbed the slight abrasion. The fight had whetted his appetite, and his cock had grown hard and throbbing. He wanted to drive it into her slick, virginal passage, but he would wait, savoring each moment.
    â€œThat’s better,” he said. “I want to see what I’ve captured.” He reached out and drew one firm breast from the neck of her gown. “Lovely,” he said as she tried futilely to cover herself. “I’ll see all of you before we’re done here,” he said, “so trying to hide your luscious body is of no use.”
    She wept then, but he felt no sorrow. He’d show her the best fucking ever, and she’d be better for it. Or not. But he’d enjoy himself and that was really all that mattered. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. She slapped him. Hard. Then she ran her nails down his cheek.
    â€œEnough of that,” he growled, grabbing her wrist and bringing it around behind her. He grabbed a second piece of rope and tied her free arm to the far side of his bed. Now, with arms spread, she was helpless. She twisted and wriggled but soon realized that her struggles were useless. She closed her eyes, tears slowly leaking from the corners.
    â€œOh, don’t cry,” he crooned. “This will be really good, and you’ll soon see how much you’ve missed.”
    â€œYou’re a horrid beast, and I look forward to the time when my father has you trussed up and whipped.”
    â€œLook forward to it all you like, but for now, you’re in no position to do anything to speed up that process.”
    She turned her face to the wall, refusing to look at him. Her loss, he thought. He went to his desk and found a sharp knife. Returning to the side of the bed, he said, “Now, this is very sharp, and I wouldn’t want to injure your beautiful skin. Hold very still.”
    â€œW-w-what are you going to do?”
    â€œI want to see you.” He removed her shoes, then starting at the hem of her dress, he sliced her skirt up the middle to the waist. Then he grabbed the bottom of her corset and sliced it and the bodice of the dress up the middle until the sides parted, leaving her covered only in her chemise, pantaloons, and hose.
    He stood and gazed at what he’d uncovered. Her skin was as lovely as he’d imagined, china white and smooth. Her breasts full and ripe beneath the remaining thin layer of fabric. Through the silk of her pantaloons, he could see the dark triangle at the tops of her thighs. He used his fingers to easily delve beneath the legs of her pantaloons to find the tops of her stockings and slowly, leisurely rolled them down.
    When he stroked the arch of her foot, she kicked out at him, catching him lightly on the chest. “That will never do,” he said. “You really must not struggle.”
    She kicked harder, pounding her heels onto the bed. “You’ll hurt yourself that way.” He rummaged in his closet and found a piece of soft cord, which he cut in half with the knife. Then he efficiently tied each ankle to the footboard of the bed. She was now truly helpless, open for him.
    â€œI’m really sorry I had to do that,” he said, not sure whether he was sorry or not.
    She sputtered, “I am a lady, and thus I can’t think of any words vile enough for you.”
    â€œHow about bastard?” he said with a laugh. “Son of a bitch usually works as well. Or motherfucker.