The Colors Of Punishment Ch. 04bylittleluscious©
Chapter 4: The Summer Solstice Celebration
Sunset settled at the edge of the meadow with its rays of orange, yellow and red illuminating the manor. Master Paul stood on the balcony of his room and watched as the sun slumbered beneath the meadow. The lights that the staff had intertwined into the trees glowed as a beacon to the guests that would soon follow the nightfall. It was the night of his annual Summer Solstice celebration, a tradition that began with his grandfather and he continued not out of wanting, but out of duty. Master Paul dreaded this celebration each year knowing that not only did he have to entertain those he did not care for, but also listen to the incessant complaints from his mother of how he could have planned a celebration more worthy of the family's name.
Pulling in a deep draw of the summer night's air, Master Paul returned to his room to dress for the evening. He had suggested to his mother that the celebration become more of a casual affair, allowing guests to wear clothing more comfortable. She of course, disagreed with his suggestion and he dropped the subject once again. His mother was what some called a bitch. She was impatient and cruel, never showing her son any affection and once ruled the manor with a heavy fist. The staff at the manor never lasted long when she lived there and those who did had a sigh of relief when she passed the manor onto Master Paul and moved to the family estate in the northwest. He too, had a sigh of relief when his mother left the manor.
Opening his wardrobe, Master Paul looked at the garments that hung within, pushing the padded hangers back and forth along the rail. Nothing that hung there pleased him. He shut the wardrobe and moved to his bed. The summer night's breeze blew into the room carrying on its gentle tendrils the scent of the wild flowers in the meadow. His thoughts ran amuck with Isabella lying in the wild flowers. He remembered how they surrounded her luscious figure as she lay there, blindfolded, helpless and beckoning him to take her. He could still feel her silky skin on his hands, her aroma in his nose, her breath in his ear and her taste on his lips; he craved to have his senses filled with her again.
Forcing the memory of Isabella from his head, Master Paul stood and returned to his wardrobe opening it and grabbing the first garment his hand touched. "Fate, you decide what I am to wear," he said out loud, knowing his wardrobe was chocked full of suits, sports coats and slacks. He chuckled to himself when he pulled out a purple cotton button down shirt and jeans. "Fate, are you telling me something? Mother is going to love this," and he gleefully pulled on the jeans and shirt.
One final glance into his mirror, he ruffled his hair slightly and began the tedious walk down the corridor to face his mother and arriving guests. A smirk of defiance spread across his chiseled face and thoughts of Isabella returned.
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Isabella and the other staff members had worked for many days preparing the manor for tonight's celebration. They had cleaned, cooked, and meticulously followed every instruction Master Paul had given them knowing that it was not his wrath they had to fret about, but that of his mother. The staff anticipated snide remarks and belittlement by Master Paul's mother; it was common knowledge that she was a malicious and callous woman very few people could tolerate.
Isabella stood on the main patio that lead into the ballroom gazing at the lights in the trees, and marveled at how they appeared to be stars against the blackness of the night sky. The patio was bustling with staff members putting the final touches in place. The small round tables were covered with white linen clothes; crystal glasses and bone china dishes encircled the tables waiting for the guests to arrive. A bar stood at one corner of the patio, the bartender checking the glasses and wiping any fingerprints that may have escaped the dishwasher from them and placing them in the rack, which hung above his head. In the other corner was a small quartet of stringed instruments, each player tuning his device.
She strode past the tables, the bartender and the quartet and entered the ballroom through the large doors that opened onto the patio. The room was lined with tall candlesticks, each one containing a large candle that burned brightly. Smaller candles stood within the windowsills, their flames dancing upon the glass. The crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling had been turned low as to allow the candles to drape the room with a sense of romance. Isabella knew that this night would not allow romance to enter, it would be filled with discomfort and agony as she would watch her Master parade through the crowd, money hungry women enwrapping themselves around him, and his mother degrading him.
Isabella looked up at the clock, which hung above the entryway to the ballroom, realizing that the guests would be arriving soon and she still needed to dress. Master Paul had delivered to her bedroom a luxurious silk gown the day before with a note instructing her to wear the gown and to welcome the guests to the manor as they arrived. As she entered her room, the scent of the flowers that were sprayed throughout filled her senses and her thoughts of her Master. She hurried as she slipped the gown over her head, its softness flowing down her body. It was a shade of soft pink; thin straps clung to her shoulders, the front bodice the shape of a heart pressing her voluptuous breasts together, her curves accentuated by the masterful seamstress who created the gown. Turning her back towards the mirror, she was delighted in the way the back of the dress dropped to the edge of her curvaceous buttocks, fitting firmly against them. She gave a little shake and giggled, "If Master Paul does not appreciate this, I know someone will."
She pulled her mane of red hair upon her head, securing it with a clip filled with silk flowers and circlets fell around her face. Sparingly she applied mascara and some blush to her face, and lined her lips with a soft shade of pink gloss. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she now gazed upon a beauty that just moments ago was a weary woman. Isabella immersed herself in her vanilla body spray and headed down the corridor to greet the guests. She was a few minutes late, but she did not mind and felt that her Master would be too busy entertaining to notice that she was not there promptly at the time he had chosen for her. With her head held high, the silk dress flowing along her body, and feeling beautiful, Isabella entered the ballroom.
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Master Paul stood at the entryway greeting his guests as they arrived. His guests included some of the wealthiest people in the area, some celebrities, old family friends and acquaintances, and women who pursued him relentlessly. He never invited these women, but his mother would send out her own invitations and request their presence due to their family status in the hopes that her son would take an interest in one. His mother stood beside him, grimacing at his appearance and making comments under her breath. Master Paul smiled and nodded as the guests passed by shaking hands, tuning out their conversations and his mother's complaints, keeping his eye on the clock and waiting for his sweet Isabella to arrive. He was anxious to see her in the gown he had given her.
While carrying a conversation with a business associate, Master Paul looked over the gentleman's shoulder and saw Isabella as she came from the corridor. His heart skipped, his breathing slowed and he stood in awe with his mouth open; she looked ravishing. The gentleman he was speaking with noticed Master Paul's sudden silence and turned to see what he was staring at, he too, had his breath taken when he saw the enchantress before them. Both men stood as statues as Isabella walked past them, smiling, her vanilla aroma filling their noses and purposely swinging her hips allowing her dress to flow across her buttocks. Master Paul watched as she started greeting his guests, gently laughing at well-placed humor and attending to the guests needs. All eyes were on Isabella and he felt his desire for her grow as he watched her.
Isabella observed Master Paul diligently viewing her and his mother must have realized the same thing. Master Paul's mother had grabbed him by the arm turning him to face her. Isabella noticed that she had placed a finger under his chin forcing him to look at her while her grip was fastened on his arm and she began badgering Master Paul.
Master Paul's mother in a hushed, stern voice asked, "What are you looking at Paul?"
"Nothing mother. Just making sure that the guests are being attended too," he answered.
"It's that servant girl, isn't it? That woman?"
"No mother, just making sure the guests are having their needs met."
"Paul, I am not an idiot. It is obvious to me that you are attracted to her and it is obvious to everyone here. You are not very good at hiding it." With that statement, she looked down towards Master Paul's groin area and returned her eyes to his, glaring at him.
"And who allowed her to wear that gown? She is a servant and should be dressed appropriately. I demand that you order her to return to her room and change into a more appropriate garment. And while you are at it, change your clothes too. You are unacceptable in those rags." She released his arm and while continuing to hold his chin, raised her finger and placed it directly in front of him. "Do it now, or I shall do it for you."
Master Paul removed himself from his mother's hold and with his head held down, turned to face Isabella who was surrounded by gentlemen guests. The male guests had encircled her and she reveled in the merriment, laughing and flirting with the gentlemen. He felt a pang of jealousy grow within him as he noticed how closely Isabella had allowed some of the men to overcome her personal space. Pulling his head up, pushing his shoulders back, Master Paul walked towards Isabella and the male guests and excused himself for interrupting their conversations.
"Excuse me gentlemen. I need to speak with my servant Isabella for a moment."
Isabella had never heard him call her his servant before. This startled and bewildered her as she stood there watching the male guests depart and her Master remaining, peering at her with his dark eyes.
Arrogantly he began, "Mother does not approve of your gown, and you must go and change into something more fitting of a servant."
Dumbfounded by the words that her Master had spoken, she timidly replied, "But you gave me this gown and asked me to wear it. I, I don't understand."
Her blue eyes welled with tears; her full lips began to tremble as she was trying to contain her distress. Master Paul ached to put his arms around her and comfort her, but he knew his mother was watching.
"My sweet Isabella, just do as you are told. I am already angered by the fact that you were late arriving to your position to greet the guests. Do not think I did not notice your tardiness. You should be disciplined for your tardiness, but I will allow this one infraction on your part since the guests needs have been well attended too."
"But sir," she started.
"That is Master to you Isabella. You know better." He saw the glimmer of excitement in Isabella's eyes when he became authoritative towards her and decided to pursue this chain of events.
"You are never to call me sir. It shall be Master always. Do you understand?"
Isabella lowered her head and folded her hands in front of her, quietly answering, "Yes Master."
"That was your second infraction of the evening, I believe some form of discipline is in order."
"Very good son," a voice from behind Master Paul stated, startling Isabella and her Master from their foreplay of words.
Master Paul's mother stood behind him, hand on his shoulder and looked approvingly upon her son. "She needs to be disciplined for her transgressions and needs to know her place. I will leave it to you to teach her." With that, she smiled and turned towards the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd.
Master Paul returned his attention to his sweet Isabella, her sensual form covered in silk and a pout upon her ample lips. Again, he felt his desire for her grow, the longing to be with her overcame him and he grabbed her arm causing her to gasp.
"Come with me now Isabella. I will take you to your room and find a more appropriate outfit and contemplate what your punishment shall be."
"Yes Master," Isabella answered, as she was lead down the corridor by her Master.
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Isabella struggled to keep up with the hurried pace that her Master was placing on her. She had pulled the front of her gown up to keep from tripping and Master Paul noticed the lustrous legs peeking at him from beneath her gown. His mind wandered to where those legs led and the sweet flower that lay between them. The passion he held for his sweet Isabella continued to grow. He felt tightness in his jeans and the urge to be with her beginning to control him. No longer able to control his lust for Isabella, Master Paul found a closet where cleaning supplies were kept and unlocked it with one of his keys. Pushing Isabella into the closet and shutting the door behind him, Master Paul stood and surveyed the succulent beauty before him.
Her hair had fallen from its perch upon her head, cascading to her shoulders. The straps from her gown now hung from their position onto the soft uppermost part of her arm and her face was flushed and glistening with perspiration. Her luxurious breasts heaved as she tried to control her breathing and she held onto a shelf for support.
Isabella kept a watchful eye on Master Paul as he moved closer to her while she regained normal breathing. He unbuttoned his shirt, his muscular chest peeking from beneath it. Slowly he undid his belt and removed it from the waist of his jeans and laid it on the worktable of tools and supplies that sat in the closet. Her Master then unbuttoned his jeans and pushed the zipper down, allowing the front to open and reveal that he was not wearing underwear. She noticed the tip of his cock poking out from within the confines of his jeans.
They stared at each other for several minutes, their passion and desire growing, each waiting for the other to begin the punishment. Finally, Master Paul took the initiative and spoke.
"Isabella come over here in front of me and get on your knees."
Isabella moved to face her Master, her eyes never faltering from his and slowly took her position on her knees in front of him.
"Now Isabella, I want you to push my pants down and place my cock in your hands."
With her eyes still remaining on her Master, Isabella slowly pulled down his jeans, releasing his cock from their imprisonment. Wrapping her delicate hands around it, she could feel the heat permeating from it, feel it throbbing and see the precum on its tip. She held it firmly in her grasp, not moving, but steadfastly keeping her eyes on her Master.
"Stroke my cock Isabella, stoke it now."
With those words, Isabella began stroking his pulsating shaft. Moving her hands up and down, cupping the head in her palm, and her eyes remaining focused on her Master.
"Do not look at me," he commanded her.
She removed her eyes from him and watched as his cock began to grow within her hands. Suddenly, Isabella felt his hands grasp the top of her head, intertwining his fingers into her hair and her head jerked back.
"I want you to place my cock in your mouth," he demanded. Isabella obeyed her Master.
Opening her mouth, she placed the tip of her Master's cock into it, resting the head against her tongue. He gripped the back of her head and plunged himself into her, almost gagging her. She reached behind him and grabbed his defined backside with one hand and tugged his balls with the other. With each tug, he thrust deeper into her mouth, enjoying the warmth of his sweet Isabella's mouth. Becoming uncomfortable with his jeans being only partially off, Master Paul dislodged himself from Isabella's mouth, and removed the jeans, becoming naked in front of his goddess. Isabella sat and watched as her Master became vulnerable and squirmed from the excitement. "Now," she thought, "I can really show him what I can do," and she returned to her position on her knees in front of her Master.
Isabella pushed her Master's legs slightly apart and replaced her mouth around his pulsating cock. She moved her lips slowly down the shaft, her nose tickling his firm stomach and back up, her lips barely touching the tip. She tasted his precum and moisture from her flower began to gather. Gently she moved up and down his demanding cock. She placed one finger into her nectar and placed its sweetness on his taint, gently massaging it from his balls to his forbidden darkness. She felt her Master's body quiver at this and decided to take it further. She returned her finger to her now dripping flower and returned it to his darkness, gently pushing her finger into him. Her lips were still playing a rhythm on his cock when she entered him with her tiny digit.
Master Paul gasped as he felt her finger enter him. He was not prepared for that, did not expect that from his sweet Isabella, but was pleased by the pleasure she was giving him. He was close to releasing himself in her mouth and felt the need to release it elsewhere. Besides, she still needed to receive her punishment. Pulling Isabella away from him, he looked down into her heavenly blue eyes and his heart was punctured by the disappointment he saw in them.
He surveyed the room and nestled in a dark corner was an old battered chair. Its covering was torn and dirty, missing one arm, but the perfect height and width for Isabella to begin receiving her punishment. Master Paul instructed her to pull the chair from the darkness and into the light of the low hanging bulb. He watched as she struggled to release the chair from the other discharged items that lay about it. His excitement grew as he watched the straps of her gown slide down her rounded shoulders and her hand slowly returning them to their spot. He noticed how her voluptuous posterior moved back and forth, the silk gown moving across it as she fought with the chair.
Finally, Isabella had removed the chair from the corner and placed it directly under the low hanging bulb. She stood in front of the chair, looking at Master Paul, awaiting his next instruction.
"My sweet Isabella", Master Paul began, "I would like for you to pull the front of your gown up and sit in the chair". Isabella did as she was told, revealing to Master Paul that she wore no undergarments. Master Paul stood with his eyes watching her and upon her revealing the exposed mound under her gown, his heart pounded, his breathing quickened and an ache from his groin grew stronger. Isabella glanced down and noticed that his desire for her had become harder and a slight smirk grew on her face. Master Paul also noticed this smirk and gathered his thoughts. He must not show Isabella any weakness he has for her.
Isabella sat with the gown high upon her waist, her long legs slightly opened revealing the wetness that grew between them. She watched intently as Master Paul moved closer to her, his manhood protruding from his body, and droplets of his savory taste clinging to the tip. Her mouth watered at the sight of this, an ache grew between her legs and she leaned forward to catch them before they fell from their perch. Master Paul straddled himself above Isabella's parted legs; his cock inches from her face, feeling the anticipation grow in both of them. He looked down at Isabella into her eyes of blue and spoke. "Isabella, I want to watch you bring pleasure to yourself and if you do not succeed at this, I will have to take matters into my own hands".