The Secret Sins of Lizzy Barton

CHAPTER ONE Necessary Choices An unusually cold, portentous breeze blew through Lizzy’s hair as she made her way toward town. She walked briskly, putting a comfortable distance between Harkin Manor and her fast retreating form. Her destination was less than two miles across the meadow, along a well-worn path, where wildflowers bloomed in great abundance on this late spring morning. Normally on such a day she would find relief from her myriad of duties in the Harkin household and enjoy the fresh air, the sunshine and the verdant green of the surrounding countryside. But not today. While attempting to set her mind at ease and enjoy the walk, Lizzy couldn’t help but worry over another confrontation with Mr. McGreevy, the shopkeeper she would be visiting on behalf of Mrs. Harkin. With her anxiety mounting she clutched her sweater a little tighter to her chest and proceeded head bowed against the increasing wind, methodically putting one foot in front of the other until she reached the shopkeeper’s door. The bell rang when she moved inside the bustling establishment. Determined not to be daunted by her task, she took a deep cleansing breath, greeting Mr. McGreevy with a smile, while at the same time being thankful for the half dozen customers browsing through his wares. Perhaps today wouldn’t be like the last time. “Ah, Lizzy!” the man’s eyebrows raised with interest as he spoke, his eyes reflecting back a light that was both devious and cruel, although not at all unexpected. He immediately excused himself from Mrs. Bridges and moved her way. “This note from Mrs. Harkin,” Lizzy said, handing him the envelope. This was the only purpose for her visit, and she would have been happy to leave straightaway, since she didn’t need a reply for her mistress. She bowed politely, smiling, “I really need to be off.” “Oh, no, you must stay,” his comment dripped with subtleties, although the meaning was obvious to Lizzy. “I have a new shipment of materials that I’m sure Mrs. Harkin would be interested in seeing. If you’ll follow me into the back I’ll cut some samples.” Lizzy gulped, trying desperately not to look as uncomfortable as she felt inside. “I-I…” she started to protest, and yet the man’s request was so innocent that she could find no explanation to excuse herself. “Come right this way. Jenny—” he called to his young assistant, “please take over for a few minutes.” The girl nodded, then returned to Elliot Mason who was choosing tobacco from Mr. McGreevy’s ample stores. With his attention now solely focused on Lizzy Barton, Mr. McGreevy moved directly to the back of the shop, leering over his shoulder to insure that the girl followed closely at his heels—which she did. Lizzy’s entire body shuddered so deeply that she was afraid the other customers might notice. As it happened, they’d paid scant attention to the exchange between the Harkin’s maidservant and the shop’s proprietor and had gone back to their shopping, seeing nothing untoward about the man and the much younger woman going alone into the bowels of the store. The pair thread their way through the storeroom where bolts of new material stood upright against one wall, and a jumble of packing crates were placed in such disarray that Mr. McGreevy needed to shove them left and right in order for them to pass. They were not stopping to look through the new yard goods, however. Once negotiating the maze, Mr. McGreevy parted a curtain, made a quick right turn and led Lizzy down a flight of stairs to the cellar. With every step on their downward path, the air grew cooler and more humid, and Lizzy more scared. She could feel the moisture on her cheek, and needed to wipe her palms on her grey dress to keep them dry. “Mr. McGreevy, you certainly don’t store your new yard goods in this damp cellar,” Lizzy declared once her foot hit the dirt floor. Mr. McGreevy struck a match, lighting the lantern on a nearby table to drown out the darkness, then he turned to confront the young woman. He was a small, terse, condensed man, nervous by temperament, who chuckled darkly when he was amused and when his erotic fires were lit, although he had little idea what to do with his teaming s****l hunger. He smoldered in a way that was not particularly attractive. He looked Lizzy Barton in the eye since they were the same five feet six inches—although any similarity between them ended there. She was a curvaceous and innately sensuous girl with flaxen hair and pale skin. Her allure was unmistakable, even though she took great pains to behave modestly. Mr. McGreevy, on the other hand, was an amply portioned male whose dark hair and cleanly shaved face made him appear pious—when he wasn’t being lewd. His eyes were grey as a rainy day; hers blue as the morning sky. They faced off knowing exactly where the conversation would lead. “I can’t imagine that you have time for this, Mr. McGreevy,” Lizzy blurted out. She was ready to turn and run. “I have all the time I need,” he came back calmly. Her heart sank. “Please, have some mercy. It was a long time ago…” “A woman with your past needs to be punished, Lizzy Barton,” he spit back brusquely. “We’ve gone over that fact twice now. Surely, you’re not going to continue to argue the point.” “What would you have me do?” “Submit.” She’d held her breath unknowingly and suddenly expelled it all at once. Tears were growing hot behind her eyes. Her jaw was tight, her insides chilled and trembling. “On your knees, Lizzy.” He’d previously called her Miss Barton, which any gentleman would do when addressing a young woman, even one of her lowly station, but he now slipped into the familiar with ease, suggesting how much she’d already diminished in his eyes. Lizzy moved to the center of the dank cellar room and dropped to the floor, while lifting her skirt. Her bare knees hit hard against the packed dirt causing her to wince. In the time it took Lizzy to adjust to the inevitable, Mr. McGreevy was in front of her with his cane in hand. “Unbutton your dress.” He stared down at her now, fully given over to his rapacious desire. As she was staring directly at his crotch, she could see the evidence of his excitement throbbing needfully before her, demanding to be freed from its confinement. Lizzy bowed her head and began slowly, one by one from the neckline to her waist, undoing the buttons of her simple grey dress. As it gave way, she exposed the delicate chemise underneath the garment with her breasts pressing against the thin material; her enlarged n*****s poked through enough to cause her to blush with shame. She looked up, immediately regretting the reflexive act, for Mr. McGreevy’s severe expression staring down on her could not disguise his lusty intentions. “You seem flushed as if you were enjoying your punishment,” he observed with some satisfaction. Obviously, the size of her n*****s had not escaped his scrutiny. “No, sir, I am not enjoying this one bit!” she retorted. “Well, we will see, won’t we? Unbutton the chemise.” Lizzy flinched. “Oh, but sir!” she looked up again, pleading. On the two prior occasions, she’d been made to shrug off her dress and then bare her ass for chastisement—a far more appealing form of retribution for her crimes, although that was strictly her opinion; Mr. McGreevy had other ideas. “Don’t waste my time!” the man barked. Then don’t waste mine! she silently, angrily, bit back. Thwack! Before she could return to the task, the cane landed across her chest. “Oh, please, sir!” she cried, and covered her throbbing breasts. “Yes, imagine what it will feel like against your bare flesh,” he quipped in reply. “Of course, you can defy my orders. But if that’s the route you wish to take, I will go to the authorities straightaway…” “No, no!” she answered back, her fingers flying to obey his command, her heart weeping. With the chemise wide open, her fair-skinned breasts were exposed, shining like the finest alabaster, except for the soft red line where the cane had hit. With Mr. McGreevy’s eyes fixed on her, she winced and turned away. “Don’t be so modest, Lizzy. What a fine pair you have. Now clasp your hands behind your head and let me get a good look.” He watched her anguished expression with some glee as she sought to obey. Tears streamed from her eyes as she adjusted her position. “That’s it. Elbows wide! Back arched!” She breathed with some difficulty, her chest heaving as she presented the man with the treasure he demanded. He wasted no time in getting on with his task, raising his arm and bring it down with terrifying force. Thwack! He paused only briefly. Thwack! And paused again. Thwack! The three sharp cuts ripped across her chest, each one etching a bright red streak across her milky flesh. She swooned, nearly fainting as her body flooded with pain. Her hands dropped down and she hid herself from more blows, only to have the vicious Mr. McGreevy repeatedly pester her with the cane. “Shrug off the dress,” he ordered. “No, please!” she shuddered in her miserable heap, her breasts still aching from the wounds he’d already inflicted. Another cut ripped across her back. “I will string you up naked if your defy me again!” he barked. “And then, I’ll tell all the world…” “No! No! Please.” Lizzy drew back to her knees, and pulled her arms from the sleeves, letting both the dress and chemise fall away, exposing her naked torso, front and back. With the man’s confidence redoubling, he strode to Lizzy’s back side, and using a quirt this time, began to whip the tongues of fire against the unblemished skin. Shudder after angry shudder suffused her body until she was sobbing uncontrollably. “Oh god, please no more!” she gasped. At that moment she nearly forgot to suppress her cries lest someone in the shop above hear her pleas. Wisely, the man ended the painful treatment before she shrieked any louder, and Lizzy tumbled forward, quietly weeping. For a long time, the shopkeeper stood over her with the quirt dangling from his hand and dragging against the floor. “If I only had time to do you properly,” he mused. “Perhaps that can be arranged soon.” He reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling it from the bun and running his fingers through the damp locks. “Look at me, sinner.” She raised her head, once again staring at the man’s pulsating crotch, although this time, his c**k had been freed and the head of it pointed directly at her lips. What gave her strength at that moment Lizzy did not know. But she understood clearly what was required of her, just as this same act had been required of her on the two previous occasions. She opened her lips, letting the steely shaft enter her mouth, where the muscles instinctively worked the man’s meaty member with graceless but fervent action. Her head bobbed up and down, up and down, while Mr. McGreevy’s fondling hand guided her efforts, ensuring that she would not turn away in disgust. The organ was large and tumescent, making it difficult to fit inside her womanly mouth. She choked and choked again, but repeatedly, she resumed her fervent attention to the man’s vile member, letting the whole thing slide down her throat until she sputtered and choked again. Lizzy hated the pungent smell and the salty taste and the commanding force exerted by this boorish little man. Even more, she hated the fact that somewhere deep in her belly something had caught fire, some elemental desire that could not be abated by reason or good judgment. Repulsive, unbidden, and yet that fire gave McGreevy far more power than he’d earned. She latched on to the man’s stiff member all too eagerly, laving it almost slavishly until she caught herself in the repugnant act and forcefully backed off, remembering to whom she was giving so much of herself. By then the deed was done, and seconds later that laden member spurted gobs of creamy sperm down her throat. He groaned, holding her firmly by the hair and riding her mouth to the glorious conclusion. The conquering was done. The punishment over. Once McGreevy caught his breath, he stuffed his limp flesh back inside his pants, and sighed heavily, restoring his control. “There now. You’re done for today. Next time, I will see your ass beaten hard enough to make sitting a painful prospect.” He took such pleasure in his mockery, in the downcast beauty and her angst. Her blue eyes swam with pain and defiance. She knew the man was wrong, that his actions were repugnant, that he defied everything that was good and right. But still he spoke to her deep-felt need to be punished for her failings—even if the failings by which Mr. McGreevy judged her were false. If nothing else, her lusty response to the retribution she just suffered should be punished. She should feel shame and remorse. She should be rebuked so that she might be redeemed. All this nonsense clouded her common sense, and muddied the facts. All she knew was that she lived a lie, and this man knew about that lie and could destroy her and her sister should he decide to press the truth. There was too much at stake for Lizzy Barton to run from Mr. Angus McGreevy and his foul deeds.