(C) Copyright Carey Newton 2007 All Rights Reserved.

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Margaret Sexton (Mf anal nc hist)

Although she had only just passed her seventeenth birthday
Margaret Sexton was generally considered, by those of her friends
and family who had the opportunity to know her well, to be
something of a beauty. The awkward, lanky girl of earlier years
was fast being transformed before their eyes into a woman and
with her many personal accomplishments, long blonde hair and
intelligent green eyes it was hardly possible that she could be
unaware of her new found ability to captivate and inspire
interest from the opposite sex. The truth was though, that even
had she desired to exercise such a power, the opportunity for her
to do so was limited. As the only child of his second marriage
and the chief joy of his latter years, her father guarded her
modesty and reputation carefully. Not that she ever gave him any
real cause for concern, since she was a modest, good-natured
girl, who was largely content to assist her mother around the
house or with simple acts of charity among the deserving of the
parish. The truth was that, unusually for a girl, her chief
pleasure was study, either of the beauties of God's handiwork in
nature which never ceased to amaze and excite her curiosity, or
at her Mother's side.

This did not mean, however, that she was entirely without
knowledge of the world or the intimate ways of a man with a
woman. When she was fifteen, her older married cousin Elizabeth,
had taken her to one side and whispered to her the secrets of the
marriage bed. Like most girls of her age Margaret had a natural
curiosity, edged with a degree of concern, about such things. She
understood that in due course her father would arrange a suitable
match for her and trusted that in time she would come to love and
respect the man that he chose for her. In the meantime, however,
she felt no need to hasten the event, and was content to trust
his judgement in this, as in all things.

Her relationship with her mother was more like that of an elder
sister than a daughter. She had married Margaret's father, who
was a widower, when she was barely a year older than Margaret was
now. She was a cultured woman whose family had fallen upon hard
times but a marriage that began out of necessity had over time
blossomed into a genuine love match. It was she who had taught
her daughter to be fluent in French, still a key to entering the
upper echelons of the court and society, though English no longer
carried quite the stigma that it had in former days, and had also
inspired in her only child a fervent love of literature and
poetry. Now thirty-six years old, she was still beautiful and
ruled her household with a firm but kindly hand respected by all.

Margaret loved her father deeply and for as long as she could
remember her only unhappiness had been his frequent absences from
home. As a successful guild merchant and the owner of three
sea-going vessels, his business interests caused him to travel
widely within the kingdom and even further afield across the
channel. Her heart would grow heavy as, each year, as the blossom
appeared on the trees and the days gradually lengthened, since
she knew that soon it would be the time for him to leave them
again.

*

That evening she was sitting silently with her mother
embroidering the hem of a new gown by the open fireside. It was
becoming difficult for her to see the fine detail in the
flickering light and she had just put her work to one side when
her father came in and sat down comfortably beside them.

She felt his eyes upon resting upon her. It was obvious that he
had something he wished to say and she knew that in his own time
he would speak of it.

"You are a woman now Margaret?" he said after a few moments
silence.

"Yes Father..." she replied trying to stifle a smile, but
uncertain where this conversation might lead. It was unusual for
him to speak openly of such things. After a pause her Father
continued,

"It is my opinion that you are now of an age when it might be
permitted for you to experience something of the world beyond
this place where you were born." He stopped, as if gathering his
thoughts, then said, "I would like to suggest therefore that,
with your mother's consent," he turned to smile at his wife who
had looked up at him sharply, "you accompany Edward and myself on
our next voyage." Edward was her older stepbrother and her
father's heir and chief adviser.

As she heard this Margaret responded with a cry of surprised
delight and, after some persuasion, her mother eventually
relented and also gave her blessing. She reflected that perhaps
her husband was right, and it was time for her only child to
learn something of the world. Accompanied by her father and elder
brother, what harm could possibly befall her? It was certainly an
unusual suggestion, but beneath her quiet demeanour Margaret was
a spirited girl and it would be as well for her to have this
opportunity, there was time enough for her to settle down on her
return.

*

So it was that at the beginning of May, after two full weeks of
activity and preparations for the voyage, they set sail one
evening with the tide from the port of London in the 'Mary', the
largest and most graceful of her father's ships, which had been
named after her mother. Margaret stood alone on the raised rear
deck and waved farewell to her mother as the Mary pulled away,
quickly gathering speed with the assistance of the ebb tide and a
westerly breeze that filled the sails. Soon the towers and smoke
of London were lost from sight and, as they reached the estuary
of the Thames and the wind freshened with clouds gathering darkly
in the sky, she went below and to bed.

The days that followed were Margaret's first taste of the freedom
that her father and brother habitually enjoyed. She quickly
adapted to the rhythm of life on board and, as the master's
daughter, the crew made every effort to make her feel comfortable
and at ease among them. Weather permitting, from dawn to dusk she
spent as much time as possible on desk absorbing the sights and
sounds that were there to be experienced.

Early one morning they passed by close to the coast of Brittany
and then pressed on south. The temperature began to rise
perceptibly and the sky changed from a uniform dull grey into a
glorious blue overhead. One morning her father pointed out to her
a pair of dolphins that were keeping pace with them and she
watched them, fascinated by their playful agility and natural
grace as they moved effortlessly through the waves. When they
passed though a narrow straight with mountains on either side,
her father told her that this was the Pillars of Hercules and
that they were now in the Mediterranean Sea the birthplace of
civilisation. She had always been a dreamer and now she had
plenty of time to indulge her inclination. At times she even
wished that she were a boy. She envied the freedom that her
father and brother took for granted to travel and go where they
wished, simply because they were men. By comparison the life of a
woman seemed constrained and predictable, although she was
grateful for the many indulgences her Father afforded her.

*

A fair wind soon brought them safely into the bustling port of
Genoa and for several days her father was preoccupied in
supervising the unloading of the vessel and the purchase of a
cargo for the return journey. Eventually, however, the time for
their departure drew near. It could not be delayed indefinitely
if they were to be sure of arriving safely home before the autumn
storms began and rendered the journey more perilous.

Her father, however, had a further surprise in store for her. He
suggested that she might like to accompany her stepbrother,
Edward, as he continued overland to the city of Venice where
there was important business to transact before returning with
him overland to England prior to the onset of winter. Nearly
twenty years older than herself, and trusted implicitly by their
father in all his affairs, Edward had disliked her for as long as
she could remember, although he was careful to hide his enmity in
their father's presence. He was short and dark in appearance
whereas she was tall and fair. She had always been her father's
favourite, a fact which Edward deeply resented, and she knew that
he begrudged her the cost of a dowry and any dilution of the
family inheritance which he felt, in honour, belonged to him
alone. Although their father had been successful in business, the
initial wealth, which had made it all possible, had come from his
first wife, Edward's mother, who had died soon after he was born.
The only wealth Margaret's mother had brought to him was her
beauty and intelligence an inheritance, which she had liberally
passed on to her daughter.

After a tearful farewell at the quayside their father set sail
for England, having entrusted her solemnly into her stepbrother's
care. Curiously, being alone in Edward's company did not prove to
be the ordeal she had feared that it might be. Obviously he had
determined to find favour with their father by being gentle and
considerate of her while they were thus thrown together. After a
fascinating but relatively uneventful journey, they arrived in
Venice and obtained respectable lodgings there. They had been in
the City now for over a week and Margaret had continued to enjoy
the unaccustomed freedom she had been granted by Edward to
discover and explore the city during the daytime on her own.

*

That morning Edward informed her casually over breakfast that
there was a business meeting arranged for ten o'clock, which he
would like her to attend. This was an unusual request, since he
usually took care to exclude her from all knowledge of their
Father's business affairs, but since he did not offer her an
explanation she chose not to enquire further on the subject.

"It should not take very long and then we can pack our things and
be on our way," he said smiling.

She wondered again what he was up to, since experience had taught
her that Edward was usually at his most treacherous when he
smiled.

Soon after breakfast they left their lodgings and walked together
toward the commercial area near the quayside wharves. Edward
appeared to be familiar with the way and she followed closely
behind trying hard not to lose him among the mass of people in
the narrow streets. He stopped outside a warehouse that
overlooked the docks. From the outside it appeared to be
prosperous and well kept. There were iron bars on the ground
floor windows and the servant who opened the door to them was
dressed brightly in expensive clothes. He led them up a narrow
winding staircase into a large first floor room and left them
closing the door behind him. A man was standing waiting for them
by the open window. A head taller than Edward, he was in his late
forties and solidly built. He would perhaps have been considered
handsome but for the thin scar that was etched darkly on his left
cheek.

As they entered, he came forward and grasped Edward's hand in
greeting. When he turned toward Margaret she curtsied politely as
he gave her a shrewd and appraising glance. She was sure now that
Edward was up to something but she still had no conception what
it could be. Determining to be watchful she positioned herself by
the window where she could be seen by the passers by in the busy
street below.

Without any further introduction or preliminaries the man walked
up her and lifted her chin, studying her features carefully. She
stared back at him proudly and pulled away with a toss of her
head. Ignoring the rebuke his hand fell and caressed the curve of
her breast beneath the tight bodice of her gown. What impudence!
Blushing furiously she struck his hand away and stood erect and
regal before him. She realised grimly that there was little use
in looking for Edward to defend her honour, he was probably
enjoying the situation.

The merchant laughed and spoke in Italian, a language in which
Edward was fluent although she understood only a little.

"I take it, then, that you have not told her?"

"That would hardly have been appropriate, I wished her to
accompany me here after all! Now, however, would seem an
opportune moment to explain our reason for being here."

Edward smiled and turning to Margaret said in English, "My dear
sister, allow me to introduce you to my good friend and associate
Lorenzo Corvino. Our business here this morning should not take
us very long. This gentleman is a dealer in female slaves and I
am in the process of agreeing with him a price for you."

She could hardly believe his words. Even for Edward this was
unthinkable! Had he taken leave of his senses? Surely this was
another of his cruel jests. She looked from one man to the other
half expecting that they would both laugh at her confusion and
admit that it was a joke in poor taste. With a growing sense of
panic, however, she realised that they both appeared to be in
deadly earnest.

"You will never get away with this!" she answered angrily.

"Oh, but I think that we shall. For you see who is there to
prevent it? I will simply tell our father and that whore, your
grieving mother, that you died here in Venice of the pestilence.
It will be a sad loss, much to be lamented by all your friends.
As a family we will mourn your passing and, when a suitable
length of time has elapsed, life will return to normal and your
share of the inheritance will come to me upon our father's
death."

Her eyes glanced towards the door but before she could take three
steps toward it they were upon her. Breathing heavily she
struggled against them but their combined strength was too great
and they easily overpowered her. Edward, gripped her wrists and
bound her hands in front with a cord which he took from his
pocket, while the Italian kept his hand over her mouth to stop
her from shouting for help through the open window. She tried to
bite him but without success. He moved his hand away but, before
she could cry out, Edward stuffed a cotton handkerchief in her
mouth and gagged her firmly with another length of cord.

He dragged her over to a stout wooden pillar that stood near the
window. How had she missed seeing it when they came in? Roughly
he turned her so that her back was to it and lifting her wrists
above her head fastened them to the topmost ring. He then stood
back to examine his handiwork. Despite her helplessness and
growing anxiety she met his gaze.

"It is well, sister, that bonds become you, but I see that you
are uncomfortable in this heat. Come, let me help you breathe a
little more easily."

Slowly he untied the lace at the bodice of her gown to expose the
constricted swelling of her breasts. His fingers caressed the
visible flesh and disappeared into the warm crevice between them.

"So very soft..." he murmured.

She tensed as his finger reached beneath the embroidered material
and brushed the nipple of her left breast. Her face and neck
blushed deeply but she was also aware that he could feel the
small tip hardening beneath his touch. In sudden despair she felt
herself doubly betrayed, by her brother and by her own body.

He teased her for a moment, enjoying her discomfort and arousal.

"So, the Blessed Virgin is flesh and blood after all."

With his free hand he reached down between her legs touching her
through the thin material of her gown. She shut her eyes and
wished in her heart that she were dead, but even as she thought
this she could feel her body beginning to respond again to his
caress and fought to keep her legs closed tightly against him.

Bending down he attempted to raise the hem above her knees. Now
she struggled in earnest to the limited extent that she was able.
His hand reached up under her gown and shift and touched the
inside of her thigh reaching up for the opening of her sex. His
breathing became laboured and his eyes hard. From across the room
the Italian spoke briefly but firmly and, somewhat reluctantly,
Edward stopped his assault on her person. Stepping back he said,

"I am reminded that your value depends upon your remaining a
virgin, at least for the present. However, your prospective
master here, wishes to ascertain if you are really worth all this
trouble to him." He bent and took out a knife, which he had
concealed in his boot. She held her breath, surely he did not
mean to cut her. With a thin smile he pressed the tip of the
blade against the top of her breast. A small pinprick of dark red
blood contrasted vividly against the pure white of her skin. She
tried not to flinch or show any fear.

"It would be a shame to mark you but perhaps I should demonstrate
that you are without blemish and genuinely worth the gold that I
am about to receive for you." He inserted the sharp edge of the
knife inside the open bodice of her gown and with a single swift
movement, brutal in its suddenness, thrust down and slit open
both gown and shift to the hem. Freed from all restraint her
breasts parted and she shivered at the touch of the warm air
against her skin, as she stood naked and vulnerable before their
gaze.

She was a little above average height and her rose tipped breasts
were full in proportion to the slenderness of her figure. The
tattered remnants of her gown served rather to enhance her
nakedness than to conceal it. Edward's eyes dropped to the golden
triangle of wheat at her groin. She tried to twist away from his
gaze but found her freedom of movement to be severely limited by
her bonds.

"Mother of God! I'm tempted to have you myself and to the devil
with the gold." His voice sounded harsh and unnatural. "But," he
said after a moment, "I make it a firm rule never to mix business
with pleasure. Come let us complete the formalities and have an
end to this."

He stood back and Lorenzo came forward in his place. With his
foot he pried her legs apart and thrust his hand between them,
opening the closed lips of her sex and insinuating a finger into
her most secret place, where no man had ever touched her before.
She was tight and dry but he was quickly able to satisfy himself
that she was indeed a virgin. Margaret shut her eyes and fought
back the tears of shame and humiliation that threatened to
overwhelm her.

A bag of gold passed between them and the two men shook hands on
their bargain. "I saw how much you desired her just now;" said
Lorenzo, glancing across to where she hung limply at the post
red-faced and eyes downcast, "she is only your half sister, so
perhaps you would like to amuse yourself a little with her?"

Laughing he continued, "I find it does no harm to treat them
roughly to begin with, they are much more docile and teachable
afterwards, and I can see that this one has spirit. Her
maidenhead belongs to her purchaser, whoever he may be, but there
is another, tighter passage to pleasure which many men deem
preferable. You would do me a great service to make use of it."

Lorenzo released her from the pillar, freeing her hands and
stripping away the tattered remnants of clothing from her
shoulders. Defeated and unresisting she obeyed as he indicated
that she should lie across a low divan. He knelt in front of her
and held both her hands and Edward, coming up from behind took
out his penis, which was enlarged and standing at the ready and
assumed the same posture. He parted the cheeks of her buttocks
and studied the crinkled brown orifice of her anus, hidden in the
cleft between. Licking his finger he circled its rim. At this she
struggled to rise but was held firm and groaned behind her gag as
he forced the finger inside her up to the knuckle. He withdrew
and the same finger dipped in her sex. To her horror she realised
that she was wet between her legs. Surely her body could not be
responding to his despicable caresses. She hated both herself and
him.

He leant forward, "You were created to be a whore. Like mother
like daughter I always say," he whispered in her ear.

He nudged her legs further apart and, separating the lips of her
sex, thrust slowly up from beneath inserting the tip into her
vagina and rubbing it gently against her clitoris as he did so. A
gentle wave of pleasure rippled through her body. She had
occasionally caressed herself there when alone at night in bed,
but never had it felt like this. Without thinking she moved to
give him better access.

He pulled back and once again parted the cheeks of her buttocks.
Pressing the glistening head against the closed opening of her
anus he thrust forward forcing himself into the narrow orifice.
The gag muffled her cry and she tightened against him, but it was
already too late and he was inside her. His eyes were cold as he
sheaved himself fully in her back passage. Thrusting vigorously
he took his pleasure at her expense ignoring her tears and
muffled cries of pain.

Speaking quickly he instructed Lorenzo to release her hands and
lifted her back against his chest while she rode on his thighs.
With a shudder he came, his hot seed shooting deep into her
bowels. Still lodged inside her he kissed the white skin at the
base of her neck and reached forward to fondle her breasts,
revelling in the totality of her surrender and acceptance of his
caress. When he had finished, she lay where he left her, naked
and dishevelled, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Lifting her face he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her
eyes almost tenderly and, taking his knife, cut off a lock of her
hair.

"A keepsake," he murmured, "to take back to our Father as a
reminder of his lost child." He bent and, removing the gag kissed
her full on the lips.

"Farewell sister. I think that it is very unlikely that we shall
ever meet again," and, with a final lingering glance over her
nakedness, he turned to pick up his bag of gold from the table
and left the room.
 
*

As the door closed behind Edward, Margaret found herself alone
with the man whom she now understood to be her master. She wiped
her eyes with the back of her hand and closed her legs, but it
seemed pointless to try to hide her body from him. Her mind
struggled to make sense of the enormity of what had just happened
and the pit she had fallen into.

It was only a few brief minutes since she had walked into this
room as a free woman with her head held high and yet, how
completely had her world changed around her. Pride was no longer
an option, and she knew instinctively that her goal from this
moment on was simply to survive. What could not be changed must
be endured, at least until an opportunity for escape or rescue
presented itself.

Coming forward Lorenzo stood over her and their eyes met. To her
surprise his smile did not appear to be cruel or unkind. He held
out his hand and grasping it cautiously she struggled to her feet
and stood painfully before him. She felt soiled and ashamed in
the knowledge of how completely her body had betrayed her, and
with her half-brother! A soft breeze came in through the open
window and brushed across her skin. In her heart she acknowledged
that she was a coward as well, for if she had really valued her
honour more than life she would have jumped from the open window,
instead she chose to acquiesce in her shame and dishonour.
Lorenzo opened a large oak chest and took out from it a set of
leather wrist cuffs. Moving behind her he gently took her arms
and drawing them back attached a cuff to each wrist before
fastening them securely together behind her back with a small
padlock. Putting the key in his pocket he walked back in front
and studied her thoughtfully. Her eyes were downcast and she felt
herself blush yet again. The roseate effect across her upper
chest was a very pleasing contrast with the paleness of her
breasts.

After a long pause he spoke to her in passable French,

"I understand from Edward that you have some understanding of the
language of the Franks?" She glanced shyly up at him and nodded
in confirmation as he continued,

"Good. There is only one thing that you need to remember and that
is to obey. Do exactly as you are told and your lot does not have
to be a harsh one. Disobey, or prove stubborn, and you will
quickly be shown the error of your ways. You are now dead to the
life that you once led, learn to accept your situation and you
may yet come to prosper as some rich man's favourite."

He rang a bell and the servant who had brought her up with Edward
answered its call. She cringed inwardly to be seen by him shamed
and bound, but did not turn away.

"Take her below and secure her, she has had enough excitement for
one day and needs time to ponder her changed circumstances."

The servant put an arm round her shoulder and led her naked and
unresisting from the room. Lorenzo watched her with satisfaction
as she left. He had paid Edward a fair price for the girl but
felt certain that, with careful training, he would be able to
maximise his investment and make a handsome profit on the
transaction.

*

She was led back down the stairs and past the external door
beyond which lay freedom and all her hopes and dreams. Further
down the passage was a second panelled door securely braced with
iron which, she now noticed bolted on the outside. The servant
slipped the bolt and led her down into the cool stone cellar
below the house. She stumbled as her eyes adjusted to the reduced
light. The stairs led into a large vaulted chamber, dimly lit by
oil lamps set into cavities in the wall. In the spaces between
were chained several other girls and women, each of whom was
naked like herself. Briefly and efficiently the servant released
her hands and attached a chain to each of the wrist cuffs. Having
secured her in an empty space he left with hardly more than a
passing glance at her. She found that she had just enough freedom
of movement to lie down on the dry straw of her stall but no
more.

Margaret looked about her. To her right was a young girl who
appeared to be about her own age. She was short in stature with
dark hair, small rounded breasts and a slim figure that was still
in the process of maturing into the fullness of a woman's curves.
To Margaret's left the place stood empty. Across from her and
watching curiously stood a woman in her mid twenties whose hair
was as blond as Margaret's own. She was tall with full breasts
and wide hips and made no effort to conceal herself. The woman
spoke, but her words were meaningless to Margaret. Drained of
hope and suddenly feeling desperately tired, despite the fact
that it was still only midday, she lay down and closed her eyes.
Mercifully sleep, aided by exhaustion, swiftly followed bringing
in its wake oblivion and forgetfulness.