tagBDSMThe Unplanned Adventures of Lady M

The Unplanned Adventures of Lady M


Living among us, rarely seen, are a loose knit group of individuals who possess immense wealth and influence, and who live by no legal or moral code but their own. They have never had to, their privilege sees to that. Nothing is beyond them in their pursuit of their own wants and desires, and the concept of criminal laws is a mere inconvenience to them. Indeed, most of them are on the wanted list of one law enforcement agency or other.

As a group, they have no formal title, and even as individuals, the names used between themselves are vague and nondescript: the Baron, not unkind, but cunning and manipulative, stopping at nothing to get what he wants even resorting to theft and abduction: the Duchess, sadistic and cruel, with no regard for anything or anyone beyond her own satisfaction: the Princess, young, brattish, spoilt, and insatiable: the Mistress, quiet and reserved, a watcher of the crowd and a voice of reason: the Cardinal, insane and unpredictable, open to any perversion with anyone in search of the next thrill: and so the list goes on.

Their associates, possessions, and pets, whether involved by choice or not, hold fast to the code of silence that keeps them all safe, and those that do speak out are rarely taken seriously. Some escape to return to their former lives, some stay and embrace their new lives, and some, like Emily Clayton, whom the Baron affectionately refers to as "Lady M", were given their freedom but chose to live different lives altogether. However, such paths have a habit of crossing again...


She tied back her shoulder length blonde hair and casually checked her curves in the mirror before throwing random items of clothing into a suitcase. An offer of spending as much time as she needed, in the Caribbean, a yacht at her disposal, and no strings attached; a hard offer to refuse so she'd accepted. Lady M found it difficult to imagine the Baron doing anything without some strings, however deeply hidden, but then she'd be in charge this time. Wouldn't she?


The Baron glanced briefly at the blindfolded maid attached to the frame, before walking to the French windows of the villa, perched high above the beach. As he gazed idly out across the crystal blue ocean in the direction of Antigua, he wondered how much Lady M knew about nautical navigation, and if she had any idea of where she was really headed?

He leaned against the door frame, took a sip of his mojito, and considered Lady M. What was it about the woman that fascinated him so much? Why did he find it so hard to leave her alone? The Baron knew for sure that he should never have let her go, but it was unavoidable at that time. At least she was provided for. He'd never lost track of her though, secretly observing her shopping for groceries in old Sorrento town, watching her come and go from the studio in Montmartre as he sat unnoticed in the little tabac across the street, his cappuccino long cold from the wait. Even her chance meeting with the young French art student, a pretty girl with real talent, while buying paint and canvases was engineered by him, buying him time so that he could let himself into the studio with the key she didn't know he had. All he did was stand there, looking around at her art so beautifully displayed in the perfect light, and breathing in the heady scent of oils mixed with her perfume. All of it was part of her. He'd left without a trace before she'd returned. He tried to keep away and move on, to put distance between them and let her be, but it was never enough. He could be content for while with his distractions and his obsessions, but eventually she drew him back. Always the watcher, but always from afar, never making his presence known. And now she was out there, on his yacht, only the sea to separate them. Where was this going to lead?


As the yacht sailed gracefully out of Freeman's Bay and into the eastern Caribbean, Lady M neither knew, nor cared, where she was headed. She was away, and that's what she needed right now, otherwise she'd never have taken the Baron's offer of the use of the boat. How he'd found out that she was feeling so low, she didn't know, but it hardly surprised her. She guessed that he had the odd one or two little birds who kept a discrete eye on her, although she'd never been consciously aware of any observation. When the email from the Baron's Arranger had arrived, offering her the use of the yacht and all transport to reach it, she'd accepted with very little hesitation, and the tickets had arrived the same afternoon. It was almost as if he'd expected her to accept, and arranged the whole thing before asking her. That didn't surprise her either. It was only on the flight over that she began to wonder what the Baron's angle was in all this, but decided that it didn't matter. He'd either be on the boat waiting for her (but why wait until now?), or he wouldn't, in which case a single yacht in a vast ocean would be very hard for even him to locate. Whatever would be, would be.

When the Baron had first taken her, she was trapped in a life where she'd done what was expected of her, where her behaviours had to conform to the rules, and there was nothing allowed just to satisfy herself. True, those initial days locked naked in the tower had been terrifying, and she'd been prepared to submit to anything to please him, to secure her freedom, but as time went on, she became intrigued by him. He'd shown her pleasures that she'd never even dreamed existed, that she could explore herself without guilt, and she found she that liked it, becoming an eager and willing pupil for his lessons. But something had happened and he had left, releasing her before she had experienced everything he could teach her. As she'd driven away from the deserted chateau in the 911 he'd left for her, she had no desire to return to her former existence. Spreading her time between the villa in Sorrento and the studio in Montmartre, both of which he'd given to her, she lived a relatively simple life, preferring to immerse herself in her painting and art, rather than the temptations of the high life. She kept herself to herself for the most part, enjoying her own company, and she'd allowed no one to get close since the Baron. But sometimes, like now, the solitude became oppressive and hard to bear, and her thoughts would wander back to him.

There had been one unusual friendship with Nicole, a young French art student, who'd struck up a conversation with her while she was out buying materials one day, and she'd found the girl interesting and easy to talk to. She was in her final year before graduating, and was fascinated that Lady M could devote so much time to her art. They'd gone for coffee, and Nicole had shown her some of her work, which she happened to have with her. The girl did have talent, raw and naive yes, but with experience and nurture, she could be exceptional. After that, they'd met up quite often at her studio, and they'd spend hours enjoying each other's company. Nicole was enthralled by Lady M's work, and one day had asked if she would paint her. She'd been unsure, as portrait work wasn't something she felt totally confident with, but the girl's enthusiasm had swayed her, and she'd agreed. After arranging a sofa to catch the best of the light, she'd told Nicole to make herself at home while she fetched canvas and brushes. When she'd returned, she was surprised to find the girl sitting naked on the sofa in a comfortable pose. She'd felt strange about this unexpected intimacy, and almost refused to continue, but she couldn't deny that the girl was beautiful and the light did her justice. Putting her reservations aside, Lady M began to paint.

The girl was inspiring; the afternoon sunlight seemed to suit her shape and skin tones perfectly, making it easy for Lady M to visualise how she needed to tackle her subject. Her confidence had grown quickly, and progress had been swift and satisfying, her focus on the task overriding any other thoughts she may have had. By the time evening had made its presence felt and light began to fade, she'd been amazed at the progress she'd made. The next few days had passed in much the same way, as the painting became almost an obsession for both of them, until she'd finally stood back and declared it finished. It was the first time she'd really looked at the whole that she'd created, and she couldn't believe that she was capable of it. It was stunning.

"Can I see now?" Nicole had asked, and she'd nodded her ascent.

The girl didn't even stop to dress, running naked to her side in her eagerness to see it. Many minutes passed as they both stood and stared at the canvas, lost in its beauty. Lady M had turned away first, and found herself looking at the girl, almost with new eyes, becoming suddenly aware of the curves of her body and the scent of her skin. Then Nicole had looked at her, and their eyes had locked together for a second too long. She'd felt an involuntary thrill run through her, and almost succumbed to letting it take them where it may, but she'd kept her control, broken the gaze and turned to collect her brushes. She could not permit this. Not because she hadn't wanted it, she had no issues with anything they might have done together, but because to start on that road could mean that this wonderful, open, sweet, girl might come to the attention of the Baron, and she couldn't have that. She refused to have that image on her conscience. Nicole had no place in the world of the Baron and his associates. They had continued to meet after that, though less often these days, but the moment had never come again. But Nicole had promised solemnly that one day, she would return the favour and paint Lady M as she deserved to be painted. Lady M had often wondered if that day would ever come.

But that was then, and this was now. The sun was hot, the breeze was warm, and the air smelled of the salt of the sea. She felt herself beginning to reawaken, somewhere deep below the surface. And she'd cleared land without a single sighting of the Baron. Perhaps his offer had been altruistic after all? For once.


As the Barons' mind drifted, mulling over Lady M, he reminded himself to check up on the art student, Nicole. She was quite exceptional, and would have graduated by now. He'd helped her from the sidelines since they'd first met, whether she'd realised it or not (he hoped not), and had decided that he'd offer her some form of patronage, when he felt that she was ready for it. He knew that some form of friendship had grown between the two women, but strangely for him, he'd made a point of never investigating further. It was their own business; Nicole didn't belong in his world, and he'd do his best to keep her out of it. He stretched as he tore himself away from the view, and realised that at least an hour had passed; the shadows had grown longer and the light had faded from the room. Leaving the French doors, he moved methodically around the room, lighting the candles that had been strategically placed for best effect.

"I do think that candlelight enhances the ambience in this room in the evenings, don't you agree?" said the Baron, turning to the captive maid. "Oh, you can't see it, can you? Never mind, just take my word for it." He lit a cheap white candle from the taper he'd used to light the rest, and gazed at the flame as it melted the wax into a molten pool around the wick. Smiling, he approached the maid. "Now, where were we?"


Mia was slim, dark haired, with a well-proportioned figure, and she knew what she wanted. She found her profession as a maid enjoyable, though not entirely satisfying, but then she doubted that she'd ever find someone to give her what she knew she needed. She'd taken the job here because the money was good and it was on a private island, which meant that it was unlikely that she'd have her privacy disturbed when she was off duty, and she liked the idea of that. When she'd first arrived, she'd been told not to disclose anything that she might see on the island, so she'd assumed that the place was the property of some drugs cartel or other; not that it bothered her in the least as long as she was left to get on with her work. It all changed when, as his new personal maid, she was sent to take afternoon tea to the Baron. As she'd walked into his study, overlooking the sea, she understood why he required her silence. The room was filled with benches and devices beyond her imagination, the walls lined with implements and instruments that sent a chill down her spine just looking at them. She stared around in disbelief that such a place really existed, then made the decision of her life. The Baron had looked at her with some puzzlement as she'd walked purposefully towards him, put the tray down on his desk, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Sir, this is forward and inappropriate of me, but I am going to say it anyway. I want this, all of it," she'd said, indicating the contents of the room. "I am your personal maid, and I wish only to please you. I want you to treat me as you see fit, and use me for any pleasures you desire. I want you take me beyond any limits I've ever known before. I ask nothing from you but this."

"You want this?" he'd asked.

"I've wanted this my whole life Sir," she'd replied. He'd looked at her thoughtfully for several seconds, and she'd expected to be instantly dismissed. He'd stood up and folded his arms.

"Normally, I'd said that you don't know what you're asking for, but I suspect that in your case, you actually do. Ok, you will address me only as Baron, you will follow my instructions without question, and we'll see where this is going to lead. Undress, stand next to the bench over there, and I'll attend to you shortly." She'd never been happier in her entire life.


Such a willing participant is hard to find thought the Baron as he tipped the candle. She gasped with pleasure as drips of wax landed on the sensitive upper skin of one breast, then the other, the heat only lasting a second, but the intensity was wonderful. When he moved the drips onto her nipples, the moan of pure delight was music to his ears.

As he stood back to survey his handiwork, his thoughts drifted again to Lady M. There were so many pleasures she had yet to experience. Would she permit this for example? Should he give her a choice? Of course, he'd have to lift the candle higher to allow the wax to cool more as it fell, but he had a feeling that she'd enjoy the sensation. It was a tricky situation, he'd have to wait and see.

The candle tipped again, and molten wax ran down between Mia's breasts, solidifying in long streaks on her cleavage and stomach. She tried to writhe against her bonds, but she was held too securely. He found that he rather liked to play with Mia, he'd always taken great pleasure from watching the pleasure he gave to others, and her capacity for pleasure seemed boundless. He could not only do as he wished, she actually wanted him to take her further. He did, however, have some concerns. A pure masochist of this nature wasn't something he'd encountered before, and nothing seemed to matter to her but the pleasure he could inflict on her, whatever it may involve. How long would it be before he could no longer take pleasure in giving her the level she demanded to satisfy her needs? Would she move on to someone more prepared to accommodate her? He could certainly find her a willing owner within his circle of acquaintances. The Duchess, for example, was particularly sadistic, and would have no reservations in pushing her far beyond any sane limits. But should he, for Mia's own safety? Besides which, he'd lose a damn good maid. There was time enough yet for that decision, he thought, blowing out the candle.

The Baron checked his drink and found that not all of the ice had melted. Good. He took a large piece from his glass, walked behind her, and dripped the cold liquid from it onto the small of her back and between her buttocks. The way her back arched when the cold hit was exquisite, and delightful to watch. Smiling, he walked back around to the front of her, reached down, and slipped the ice between her hot, wet labia. She threw her head back and let out a scream of total ecstasy.


Lady M had been staring out across the open ocean, lost in her thoughts, when the Captain had approached her, smiling quite openly. She hadn't seen him since he'd welcomed her aboard and asked her where she'd like to go. "Just go," she'd replied rather impolitely, but he didn't seem to have taken any offence.

"Good afternoon Ma'am, is there anything I can get for you?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine thank you. I'm sorry if I was a little abrupt earlier, it was rude of me," she replied.

"Not a problem, it's a long journey to get out here, especially in one stretch. I've put you in the Barons' cabin, as instructed. He sends his apologies as he's unable to join us for this voyage. If there's anything at all you want or need, just ask myself or any of the crew, and we'll be glad to oblige." Lady M gave his muscular frame the once over from behind her shades, and wondered how far that offer extended. "Dinner will be served at six in the dining room, unless you wish to eat on deck or in your cabin." Dinner with the crew could also prove interesting, she thought, from what she'd seen of them so far. The Baron had strict rules on that sort of thing, but she wasn't his possession any more, was she? How loyal would they be?

"I'll decide later, I think," she mused. "The yacht certainly isn't quite what I was expecting, Captain. I would have thought the Baron would have gone for a large power cruiser of some description, rather than sail. She is rather sleek though, and I can see the attraction."

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" the Captain replied. "Built in the 1920's for a rich playboy who wanted a fast toy; she's 108ft long, all wooden construction to a racing design years ahead of its time, and fast even by today's standards. Back then, she must have been awesome. She carries a crew of six, and has berths for eight guests. The Baron came across her laid up and forgotten in a boatyard about fifteen years ago, in an appalling state. He bought her for a song, as the costs for doing anything with her were frightening. Sails were long gone, mast and rigging were missing, and the hull was in a dreadful condition. It took two years of full time renovation to bring her back to what she is today, including two months just to locate a loft big enough to stitch new sails. She is worth it though; she's a fantastic boat to sail."

"It's definitely an experience, and I do enjoy new experiences. Actually, I might take dinner in my cabin after all. Would you care to join me Captain?" she asked.

"That can be arranged Ma'am," he smiled, knowingly.


As their mutual shuddering finally subsided, the Baron withdrew his softening cock from Mia's dripping pussy. He stood back and stared at her, on her knees and bent over, fastened to the flogging bench, her legs held wide apart, her buttocks red from the flogger and the paddle. She was such fun to play with, endlessly eager for more, and her stamina was amazing. Most of his other possessions would never have lasted this long in one session, and he would never have dreamed of trying to push them that far. Walking around the bench admiring her, he couldn't help but wonder where her limits actually were. He removed the blindfold and released the cuffs from their securing points on the bench. She climbed from the bench, hardly wavering at all, and stood before him, bathed in sweat, remnants of the wax still sticking to the skin of her breasts and stomach. Had she really only been here for a month? At the moment her pleasure was still his pleasure, but he wondered how long that would last.

"Thank you, Mia, for yet another most enjoyable afternoon," said the Baron, idly raising his hand to scrape at the wax that was covering her left nipple with his fingernail. He noticed the almost imperceptible change in her breathing as he peeled it away from her skin; didn't she ever get enough? "I'd also noticed that you haven't taken any of your free time since you've been with us. Would you like the day to yourself tomorrow, perhaps?"

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