The Taming of Lady Honoria

Copyright 2012 Jodi Henley

Smashwords Edition

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places and
characters are products of the author's imagination and not to be
construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Cover Art by Jamie Ivins

Visit him at
http://www.jamieivins.com/

Chapter One

Lady Honoria Cavanaugh drummed her heels on
the lavish Italianate marble floor, her magnificent legs naked for
all to see. The sweeping muslin skirts of her snowy white gown were
torn, stained with crumbs and smeared with gobs of clotted cream.
On a nearby sideboard, an overturned ewer of Devonshire's finest
shook in time to Honoria's piercing screams.

"I
hate
this dress! It's
ugly
and I refuse to wear it. I look like an ape-leader—I shall die,"
she said, rolling to her feet, hand to her ivory brow, "
die
,
of embarrassment." Tatters of fine muslin fell underfoot and were
trampled by her dainty jonquil boots.

Her mother lifted a tiny silver bell. "You're
disturbing my kippers, dear."

The doors to the east breakfast room flew
open and a man easily the size of a small mountain stood heaving in
the doorway. Wild black curls sprang from his scalp, giving him a
quizzical air.

"M'lady?" he panted. "I came running."

"Yes you did, dear boy—attend to Lady Honoria
and find her a new gown? It appears she's torn her…everything."
Lady Charlotte Sophia Cavanaugh snapped her paper out, picked up
her fork and turned her attention back to the platter of smoked
kippers and tomatoes. Her fork stabbed out.

"Mother!"

Lady Charlotte sliced her tomato into plump
tidbits with the side of her fork. "Honoria, don't be
unpleasant."

"I do not
want
a new gown." Honoria
stomped her lovely foot. "I want the blue gown Emily
Stanhope-Thornton wore to the assembly last night. It's the latest
kick and
I want it
!"

The paper snapped again, and Lady Charlotte
appeared over the top. Magnified by a pair of wire-rimmed
spectacles, her large hazel eyes regarded Honoria gravely. "Robbie,
love? Take Lady Honoria back to her chambers. Talk to me later,
dear."

Honoria shoved past Robbie and ran out into
the hall, hands over her lovely face. Tears poured between her
fingers like torrents of summer rain. "You are so
mean
to
me! How can I have such an unfeeling parent?" She stopped at the
bottom of the stairs to the upper level and threw her hand out, one
fist clenched to her unfortunately minimal bosom. "Do not
think
to follow me, Robbie!"

Robbie stopped at the tip of her outstretched
finger and shook his enormous head. He wasn't horrible to look at
if one liked a certain coarseness of feature, and Honoria had every
reason to believe his god-like musculature was real, but there was
a limit to what she was willing to put up with from the servants.
She ran up the staircase and clung to the newel post on the
landing, shoulders shaking under the onslaught of her tempestuous
emotions.

"Despite what I told you when I was but a
girl, you are no friend, Robbie Macgregor! A real friend—doesn't,
doesn't…b-badger one so!" There! She'd
said
it, repudiating
what little remained of their childhood.

Her enormous chamber was at the farthest
reach of the left wing, as far from the rest of the family as
possible. As her mother said, Honoria was loud and inclined to
shriek.

She stomped into the room with her chest
heaving. The gilded pier glass she'd strategically placed across
from the door showed the futility of it all. She had a perfect
heart-shaped face and melting brown eyes, but they were
useless
without bosom. Her beauty didn't make up for the
horrible cheated feeling. No matter what she did, her chest didn't
heave in an interesting way and her boots pinched.

The buttery jonquil leather had been shaped
to her measurements, but the soles were obviously meant for a
child. The narrow little slots were much too small.

Honoria limped to the chaise lounge beside
the fireplace and sat, moving her foot first one way then another.
Surely it wasn't swollen? How horrible to think her delicate flesh
would be subjected to the indignity of tight shoes.

Robbie loomed in the doorway, watching her.
"Can I do something for you, m'lady?"

"Don't just stand there," she snapped. "Fetch
my maidservant."

Robbie crossed the room to kneel at her feet.
The width of his shoulders beneath his damp linen shirt distracted
her from her pain. He'd obviously come from the rose garden where
he'd been helping her mother with the roses. A smear of dirt
burnished his bronzed throat.

He pulled at the tiny boot.

Honoria shrieked, "Don't take my foot off
with the boot!"

Robbie sat back on his haunches. Every inch
of his god-like physique seemed to ripple as he brushed a lock of
curling black hair out of his eyes. "Your leg keeps moving."

Her foot throbbed, even more so now that the
boot refused to come off. She pushed at it, but it just made
everything hurt worse. "Do something!" she told him.

Robbie reached up, grasped her thigh through
the filmy white skirts and held her in place.

"How dare you!" she gasped, shoving at his
hand.

He pushed down against her flesh. "Be still."
The boot popped off and fell on the floor.

Honoria sobbed in relief.

Silence rippled out from where Robbie knelt,
still holding her thigh. "M'lady," he whispered. "Your leg is so
soft."

Honoria looked down into Robbie's eyes. She
hadn't actually
looked
at him in years. She'd only noticed
the way the curls sprang from his scalp and his monumental size.
Why hadn't she looked at his
face
? High cheekbones, chiseled
jaw, even the line of his brows were handsome in an intensely
masculine way. He simply
reeked
of maleness and he was
looking at her in
that
way, despite her unfortunate
bosom.

"You may release me," she said, pulling her
hand from his.

He didn't move, and the feel of his enormous
hand on her thigh roused feelings Honoria had never thought to
experience. As if she were bound in some magical spell that only he
could break, Honoria watched as his hand slid over her thigh to the
place between her legs she did her utmost to ignore.

His tongue swept out to moisten his lips and
he stuck out one finger—just one, to brush at the material over her
nether regions. "I've rutted on women in the kitchen, but you're
softer." Another finger came up to join its brethren and his hand
abruptly burrowed beneath her gown.

"No!" cried Honoria.

"I will not hurt you, m'lady." His
explorations gave lie to his earnest expression as his massive
digit found entry.

Honoria jerked upright, shocked at the feel
of his finger wiggling about in her. "What are you doing? Get it
out!"

He twisted his finger slowly, and withdrew it
only to slide back into place. This time his knuckles slapped her
naked flesh.

Honoria jumped. "Oh!"

His laugh huffed out. "Liked that, did
you?"

She whimpered. The sensations he evoked
weren't unpleasant but they were certainly
strong
as her
over-stimulated nerves struggled to keep up with her body. "Do it
again!"

A second finger joined the first.

Her head fell back and her legs parted as her
entire body went limp. "Oh my God."

Robbie used one hand to hold her that way
while he pulled at his breeches. His cock sprang free, big and
long.

She'd seen horses mating, but the effect of
all that naked male flesh so close to her equally naked
female
flesh was enough to make her shudder. "I'm a virgin!"
she cried, kicking him away.

Robbie laughed. "There are other places a man
can use, m'lady. And I'm not against a good suckling."

"A…" she felt faint, "…suckling?"

"Aye."

"I am not putting your…member, in my
mouth!"

Robbie swept her up in his arms and carried
her to the bed.

She pounded at the hard muscles of his chest.
"Release me or I'll scream!"

Robbie flung her on the pillows then stripped
out of his breeches. "Do you have any salve?"

Honoria screamed loud enough to rattle the
glass.

Robbie disappeared into her dressing room,
working the buttons on his shirt. When he came out, he was naked
and he had her extra-large bottle of India Lotion, guaranteed to
moisturize and cure blemishes at the same time—not that it
fulfilled either claim. To the best of Honoria's knowledge it was
rosewater and oil.

Robbie flipped her over on her stomach, threw
her skirts up and used his knee to push her legs apart.

"You're not putting that—oh!" Honoria
scrabbled to get away, yelping when he pushed her knees up under
her belly.

Her buttocks lifted and enormous hands
grasped her ass cheeks, pulling them apart to expose her nether
hole. To her horror, liquid sloshed over her exposed flesh and
dribbled down her thighs.

He pushed a finger into her. "You're
tight."

"I don't do this very often," she said
sarcastically, squeaking as he screwed his finger in up to his
knuckle. Her muscles clenched in futile protest but could do
nothing to prevent him from plundering her previously forbidden
depths.

She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't have
to see him and concentrated on the strange feelings his finger
produced as it slid in and out of her startlingly well-greased
hole. Rolling waves of warmth spread out from his continuing
attentions and made her knees tremble. Who would have ever thought
touching oneself down
there
would feel so
good
? He
abruptly added a second finger and her eyes popped open. She'd
loosened enough so it didn't hurt, but the idea of him putting two
of his enormous fingers into what she'd always considered a very
tiny hole made her flush with embarrassment.

"You're getting loose," he said thickly.

Was it her imagination, or was he throwing
off heat? The pier glass showed the smooth white swell of her
buttocks in sharp contrast to his heavily muscled thighs and long,
rigid cock. He'd poured lotion into his palm and was working the
oil into his engorged flesh. The heavy curve of his cock pointed
up. There was no way
that
was going to fit, no matter how
easily he'd slid his fingers into her.

She was still dressed in the tattered
remnants of her gown, stockings and a boot. She felt oddly
disassociated and more than a little dizzy, and the sight of his
fist sliding over his swollen shaft made her shake furiously.

Holding himself behind the head, Robbie
pressed himself to her puckered rim and pushed in just enough to
wedge the blunt tip in her slippery rim.

Honoria jumped, sinking down to get away from
him. Tears filled her eyes. "It won't
fit
!"

"It'll fit," he growled, pulling her back
into place.

Abruptly, the head popped in, filling her in
a way she'd never been filled before. The hot, tearing burn in her
cruelly stretched rectum made her wiggle frantically. It felt like
the outside of her hole was caving in, and she could feel every
ridge on his enormous cock. The heavy coating of India lotion
lubricating his shaft prevented her from rejecting him. Honoria
sobbed, not sure if what she felt was pleasure or pain.

She gasped, panted and moaned, wobbling on
her knees. "This is
so
uncomfortable!"

Pain and the most incredible sensation of
being stuffed like an Easter ham occupied her mind, and she
pushed
backwards. Robbie leaned into her, putting his balled
fists down on each side of her shoulders. The height difference
between them knocked her off balance. Stretched out like he was,
they were more evenly matched. His body covered hers, pinning her
beneath him. She could feel the hair on his thighs rasping her
legs, the rigid points of his nipples and his harsh, panting
breath.