CAPTIVE FOX
by Bluebonnet

Disclaimer:  Yeah, right, they're mine--NOT!

Rating:  NC-17, baby!

Keywords:  Sex and discipline, need I say more?

Spoilers:  Who knows?  Who even cares?


Summary:  In a land where women rule and men are chattel,
young Fox Mulder is about to become Lady Dana Scully's
most prized possession...

-----

Chapter 1


Lady Dana Scully gazed around Scully Manor's large ballroom,
surveying the wedding preparations with satisfaction.   The
room was spotless, chairs arranged for the guests, flowers
already gracing every nook and cranny, and Natalie was
busily preparing a sumptuous wedding feast.  All was in
readiness at last, and tomorrow afternoon, she would take a
groom.

She'd had her eye on young Fox Mulder ever since she had
returned from the army--she'd been in the village one day,
on her way home from a day of working in her clinic, when a
commotion behind her had drawn her attention.  Turning her
horse around, she found herself confronted with a man,
obviously of the nobility but still a male, surrounded by
six or seven of the seediest women in the village.  The
young man was sitting astride a fine-looking mare, and the
expression on his face was one of carefully controlled
terror.

"Ladies, please, I must return home now," he said, and Lady
Dana could hear his voice trembling, though he made a
valiant effort to conceal that fact.

"Not just yet, sweet thing," one of the women giggled,
running her hand suggestively up his thigh.  "Why don't ye
stay and play a bit?"

"Please!" the poor young man begged desperately, trying
unsuccessfully to elude the women.  "My mother will be
looking for me!"

"Your mother didn't keep too well an eye on you, now did
she?" asked another woman saucily.  "And now here you are,
all alone, all ready to be our plaything for the evening."

The women were about to pull Fox from his horse, and Dana
had no illusions about what would happen next.  The poor man
would be the unwilling entertainment for the night in a
nearby pub, and his life would be completely ruined.

"Here now!" she called, clapping her hands together sharply.
"Leave the boy alone."

The women turned about as one at her voice. "Aww, my lady,"
grumbled one of the women, but Lady Dana was well known in
the village, and well respected.

The moment the groping hands had removed themselves from his
body, Fox had set Samantha to a dead run--the boy was gone
without even a 'thank you' to Lady Dana for saving his
virtue, and she had observed his flight with interest.

Shaking her head in amused exasperation, she questioned one
of the women.  "Sally, who is that young man?"

"Why my lady, that's Lord Fox Mulder," Sally replied.
"Didn't you recognize him?"

"I've been away for many years," Dana replied slowly,
staring in the direction the beautiful young man had
disappeared. "He has grown up."

"Indeed he has, my lady," Sally agreed, turning back toward
the pub she managed.  "A fine looking lad he turned out to
be."

Dana had returned to her home and immediately begun making
inquiries about the Mulder son.  He was unclaimed, she
learned to her satisfaction, and had been kept completely
innocent by his mother.  She had known him as a child, but
since they had reached their teens, they had not come into
contact.  Lady Dana had been sent to school, and then to a
military academy, as was the tradition in the Scully family,
and young Fox had apparently been kept quite sheltered.  He
obviously hadn't lost the adventurous streak she remembered
in him from childhood, however, she thought happily.  It
would make him an interesting husband.

Soon after, she asked Lady Teena for her son's hand in
marriage, and was accepted.  Now the wedding preparations
were well underway, and soon she would take the shy young
virgin Fox to her bed. He was completely unspoiled, and
tonight he would belong to her.  She smiled in anticipation.
Dana adored bedding a virgin, although she would never have
shamed a member of the nobility.  There were any number of
eager servant boys willing to warm her bed, hoping to buy
favors with favors.  She was generous to them, and none had
complained thus far.

She turned when she felt a presence behind her, and beheld
her mother's new husband.  Lord Walter had been left alone
and unprotected when his wife had died six months earlier,
and Maggie Scully, who had often turned an appreciative eye
toward Lord Walter in the past, had offered him a way out of
his dilemma. Lady Maggie's proposal of marriage had been an
answer to Walter's prayers--he'd been close to desperation
after Lady Sharon had died, for his own mother was dead, and
he had no daughters to care for him.  Lady Sharon had passed
quite suddenly, and had not left him a free agent in her
Last Requests--thus, his life belonged to the Queen.  He was
desperately afraid of being summoned to court, perhaps given
in marriage to one of the London nobility, and never seeing
the town where he had spent his entire life again.  When
Lady Maggie came to him, two weeks after Lady Sharon's
death, and asked him to be her husband, he had fallen at her
feet in gratitude.  Their petition had quickly been granted
by the Queen, and they had been married the very next week.
All in all, Lord Walter was quite happy with the way his
life had turned out.

 Dana liked her new step-father. He was an obedient and
loyal husband to her mother, just as a man should be, and
carried a quiet dignity that she found admirable.

"All should be ready by tomorrow afternoon, Lady Dana,"
Walter said, bowing his head deferentially in her direction.
"Young Fox is a lucky man."

Dana smiled.  "Thank you, Walter.  I consider myself quite
lucky as well-- Fox is the finest young man in these parts."

"He is a credit to his mother, and he will be a credit to
you as your husband," Lord Walter agreed.

"Are you speaking of my new son?" asked Lady Maggie, coming
up to slide a hand possessively over Walter's behind, so
attractive in his snug breeches.  She grinned at his blush,
and pinched him lightly.  Walter didn't care for the tight
trousers she insisted he wear, but he did as he was told.
'I like to see your shapely bottom displayed for my
enjoyment,' she had commented with a wicked grin, and with a
sigh of resignation, Walter had obeyed. It was, after all,
his Lady's right to choose his clothing.

"Yes, my lady," Walter murmured, submitting gracefully to
his wife's attentions. Lady Maggie seemed to enjoy caressing
his buttocks, and it was his duty and his pleasure to allow
her liberties with his person.  Lady Maggie was much more...
physical in her attentions to him than Lady Sharon had been,
and after Walter had gotten over his initial shock at the
situation, he found himself enjoying it.  Inwardly, he was
disturbed at his reaction--his own father had told him that
sex was a husband's duty, to be borne as often as his wife
demanded it, but that it was not a particularly enjoyable
task.  Sex with Lady Sharon hadn't been repulsive, but to
Walter's gratitude, it had not often been required. Lady
Maggie was a different story--she could exhaust him in their
bed at night and then require his attentions again in the
morning.  He felt well used...and well loved.

"Walter," Lady Maggie said seriously when her husband's face
had returned to its normal color.  "I want you to have a
word with the boy.  With his own father gone, I'm sure he's
had nobody to give him manly advice.  Perhaps just a little
talk from you would ease his apprehension."

Walter nodded agreement.  "Of course, Lady Maggie," he
replied.  "I'll assure young Fox that he has nothing to fear
in the hands of a woman with Dana's experience.

"Very good.  Leave us now, Walter.  I have important
business matters to discuss with my daughter."

Lord Walter bowed to the ladies and took his leave.  He knew
exactly what he ought to tell Fox--he should pass on the
advice his own father had given him upon his marriage to
Lady Sharon.  The only problem was--since he'd become Lady
Maggie's husband, the advice no longer seemed to ring true.

-----

Fox reigned Samantha to a halt and surveyed the countryside
before him. The Mulder lands overlooked a charming valley,
into which was nestled the village of Azure, and on the
other side of the valley, climbing the gently rolling hills,
sat the estate of Lady Dana Scully.

Lady Scully had returned recently from military service, and
Fox had not seen her since he was a child.  He remembered
her piercing blue eyes, her spirit of adventure, her sharp
wit, and smiled.  They had enjoyed many good times together
as children, and engaged in much mischief.  Now she was
living Scully Manor, with her mother and Maggie's new
husband.  Although Lady Maggie and Lord Walter had only been
married a few months, Fox heard that Lady Maggie already had
her new husband well in hand.  He had no trouble believing
this; the Scully women had long possessed a reputation as
strict disciplinarians.

Not long after she'd returned from battle, Lady Dana had
begun to cast her eyes about the village for a suitable
husband, and although he'd tried all his life to remain
unobtrusive, she had immediately set upon Fox and had asked
his mother for his hand in marriage.  He still blushed in
shame when he remembered how she had saved him from probable
rape after he had stupidly ventured into the village alone.

To his dismay, Lady Teena had readily agreed, and on the
morrow the shy Fox Mulder would become Fox William Scully,
Lord Scully the Younger, and would move across the valley to
reside at the Scully estate.

The Mulder lands would belong to Lady Dana upon his mother's
death, as he had no sister to inherit, for men were not
allowed to own property except in very special
circumstances.  His cousin Jake, for instance, owned the
lands his wife, Lady Alex Winters, had left to him.  She had
stipulated in her Last Requests that Jake be made a free
agent after her death, that he be allowed to live out his
life on her properties as if they were his own.  A woman
could leave her husband with that bit of assurance, if she
was of a mind, and if she was of the nobility, but it all
still existed at the Queen's whim.  Should a ranking Lady of
the nobility ask for Jake's hand in marriage, it was up to
the Queen to decide if Jake became the Lady's husband or if
he retained his freedom.  If Jake was married again, his
first wife's property would then belong to his new wife, to
be passed on to any daughters they might have.  Since Jake
and Lady Alex had borne no children, it was in the Queen's
best interest to allow Jake to remain free; upon his death,
all Lady Winters'  properties reverted to the Crown.

Lady Teena had impressed upon Fox the importance of marrying
well since he was a young boy.  He had been guarded and
sheltered, and as a result had remained pure and untouched,
unlike the boys from the village, some of whom had
surrendered their virginity at shockingly young ages.  Fox
knew his mother had been sorely disappointed to never have
been given a daughter by her husband, Lord William Mulder,
who had died lo these five years earlier, and now it was
Fox's responsibility to see to it that the Mulder lands at
least stayed within Lady Teena's bloodline.  He must marry
and give his wife daughters.  It was expected.  It was what
a man did, what men were bred for and taught from the time
they were able to understand the language.

Lady Dana had been a medic in the army, tending to the women
who were wounded in battle, and had seen a bit of combat
herself, if the rumors were to be believed.  Now she had
joined with her mother's clinic in the village, where the
name 'Scully' was synonymous with excellent medical care in
these parts, and had been for generations.  Fox thought the
tending of those in distress sounded like a wonderful
occupation, but men were not allowed to work.  A man must
spend his days keeping his lady's house, supervising her
servants, overseeing her meals and the running of the
household, and raising his lady's children, but he must
never work.  For a man to work, unless it was a situation of
dire necessity, was a disgrace upon the man's family name.
The Mulder name had stood proudly in the Azure region for
hundreds of years.  Fox simply could not be the first to
sully it, so, with a sigh, he gave up any ideas he had about
interesting work outside his lady's home.

His father had taught Fox how to manage a large estate,
beginning when he was very small and training him well into
his teenage years.  Once Lord William had died, Fox had
stepped into his shoes and continued the tradition of a well
run Mulder household.  Lady Teena, who had no great
ambitions, and whose 'occupation' consisted of simply
*being* Lady Teena Mulder, had done her part to gently mold
and shape her son during his formative years.  She believed
men should be seen and not heard, and as a result, Fox could
usually be counted upon to remain quiet and at the
background of things, demure and proper as men were expected
to be.  To her eternal consternation, Fox had a wild streak
in him, and sometimes simply could not resist giving in to
the impulses that raged through his blood.

"You have a bit of your grandmother in you, Fox," Lady Teena
would say, smiling fondly when she was forced to punish him
for some misdeed.  "She was an adventurer, too.  But it is
unbecoming behavior in a man, my dear, and you must learn to
curb your adventuresome side if you ever hope to make a good
match."

Fox would nod, apologetically accepting his well-deserved
punishment, and would remain quiet and sober for the rest of
the day.  By all outward appearances, he was reflecting upon
his behavior and how he might improve it in the future, but
in reality, Fox was fuming.  Why must a man be such a fool,
he asked himself repeatedly, but no answer was forthcoming.
Indeed, there did not seem to *be* an answer; it was simply
the way of a woman's world.  Men existed to serve women, to
be taken and protected by them, and to give them daughters.

Even the female servants of an estate ranked above the male
members of the family, and Lady Teena had been forced to
speak sharply to a few of her servants on occasion, when
they would become a little too frisky where Fox was
concerned. Groping a man was one thing, she told them
sternly, and certainly to be understood and forgiven, but to
take things to a level that would deprive Fox of his
virginity before marriage simply would not be tolerated, and
would be punished with the highest penalty allowed.  Lady
Teena intended her son to go to his marriage bed pure.

And he would, he reflected.  Since Lord William's death, he
had been a virtual prisoner at the Mulder estate, rarely
allowed to leave their lands even to venture down into the
village.  Lady Teena had kept him so well protected, he
thought ruefully, that he might as well have taken his vows
to the Church.  His reverie was interrupted by the sound of
hoofbeats behind him, and jerking himself back to reality,
Fox nudged Samantha.  Perhaps if he rode off in the opposite
direction from the approaching horse, he could escape
detection.

"Fox!"  He stopped when he heard his name spoken sharply,
and gave a small sigh.  His mother had found him.

"How many times have I told you not to ride about the
grounds without a female escort?" she scolded him as she
drew near.  "With your marriage to Lady Dana but one day
away, we must guard your virtue with increased vigilance."

"Yes, Mother," he muttered, dropping his head in shame.  He
knew he wasn't supposed to ride alone, but sometimes he just
needed to take Samantha and feel the wind on his face.
Sometimes he needed to pretend that he had a modicum of
freedom, especially now, when the loss of what little he had
was imminent.  "I'm sorry.  I was just..."

Lady Teena smiled at her son, so shy and uneducated in the
ways of the world.  "I know, my dear, but you must think of
your safety at all times.  Unescorted men are an invitation
to some of the less savory women of the land, and here you
sit in plain sight of the village upon Samantha's back."

"Samantha would protect me from any bad women who might
threaten, Mother," Fox laughed, patting his horse's neck,
but Lady Teena was not amused.

"Come back to the house at once, Fox," she told him.  "Lord
Walter Scully has arrived, and has asked to speak with you."

Fox looked surprised.  "What does Lord Walter wish with me,
Mother?" he asked curiously, turning Samantha toward home.
"I do not know him well."

Lady Teena grinned.  "I believe he wishes to have a word
with you before your marriage, man to man, since your own
father is not here to give you advice," she answered.  "Lord
Walter has the look of a man tasked with a chore he would
put behind him rather quickly!"

Fox swallowed hard and followed his mother back toward the
Mulder stables.  Manly advice.  He had heard bits and pieces
of what was expected in a marriage bed, of course--all
children did--but he had no idea how much of it was
accurate, or how much information he might be missing.  He
shuddered.  The little that he thought he knew of lovemaking
was not pleasant, at least for men.  His own father had
often told him that lovemaking was his husbandly duty, that
he was to serve his wife in any way and as often as she
pleased, and that his own thoughts and feelings on the
matter were unimportant.

"It's what we were made for, Fox," his father would tell
him, patting his shoulder gently.  "We keep houses and
estates, and raise the children, and we leave the decisions
to the women.  Your only concern, as a husband, should be in
pleasing your wife and in giving her daughters."

"But Father, what if I am only able to provide my wife with
sons?" he had asked, confused, for were not sons as
desirable as daughters?  Did it not require both someone's
son *and* someone's daughter to produce another daughter?
Lord William had smiled at his naive son, and sighed.  How
to explain the ways of an illogical world to a boy as
straightforward as Fox?

"You will provide both sons and daughters, I hope, Fox," he
answered at last.  "Daughters to carry on your wife's name
and inherit her estate, and sons to bring you as much
pleasure as you have brought me.  You have been the joy of
my life, Fox.  I only wish it was a fairer world I could
leave you, but such is the way of men in a woman's world.
This will never change.  It is our lot to endure."

"Yes, Father," Fox had replied, but he was left with the
uncomfortable feeling that there was much about marriage
Lord William had neglected to tell him.  Now, it seemed Lord
Scully would step in to fill the gaps in his knowledge.

"Lord Scully," he greeted the older man, stepping into the
parlor where his visitor awaited.

"Ah, young Fox."  Walter Scully turned from the window,
where he had been surveying the Mulder gardens, and examined
the shy young man before him.  He smiled.  Dana had chosen
well.

"My mother says you wish to speak to me?"  Fox gestured to a
chair and his guest seated himself.

"Yes.  I wanted--that is, Lady Maggie has asked me to have a
talk with you, Fox.  Before your marriage tomorrow."

Fox gave a wry smile.  "The talk my father should have had
with me?"

Lord Walter appeared slightly ill-at-ease, shoving his
spectacles further up his nose before replying, "Well...yes.
Tell me, Fox, are you at all apprehensive about your wedding
night?"

"No, my lord," Fox lied staunchly.  "Not at all."

Lord Walter pretended to believe the boy.  "Really?  I was.
Both times."

Fox looked startled.  "Both times, Sir?"

Walter nodded.  "Oh yes.  One woman's lovemaking can be
quite different from another, and I was also kept pure
before my marriage to Lady Sharon, as you have been."

The young man before him blushed at the frankness of his
speech, and Walter softened his approach.

"Lady Dana is quite skilled, I'm told," he said earnestly.
"She will be kind and gentle with you, Fox."

Fox chewed his lip for a moment before admitting, "I--I
lied, Sir.  I am afraid.  I don't know what to do, what's
expected of me.  And I fear the pain."

Lord Walter put both hands on Fox's shoulders and met the
boy's elusive gaze.

"The pain, Fox, is nothing to fear, I promise you.  As for
the rest...well, I'll pass on the advice my father gave to
me."

"What is that, Sir?"

Lord Walter got a faraway look in his eyes.  "Simply lie
there and think of England, Fox."

"But--"

"Not to worry, my boy.  Lady Dana will treat you gently. She
is much looking forward to bedding you."

"Yes, Sir," whispered Fox, staring fixedly at his shoes. The
conversation was simply too embarrassing to be borne!

Lord Scully rose from his chair decisively.  "Very well,
then.  I must return home--there are many preparations to
oversee before tomorrow afternoon."   Stopping at the door
of the parlor, he gave the young man one last, friendly
smile.  "I'll look forward to having another man in the
family, Fox.  I'm afraid I've felt somewhat outnumbered
since my marriage to Lady Maggie."

Fox smiled weakly, feeling his heart sink a little further.
Lady Maggie was well known for having the randiest female
servants in the district.  It was difficult enough for a man
as shy as himself to endure the stares, whispers, and
touching from his mother's servants, but what would the
Scully employees do to him?

Fox shuddered delicately.  It could be worse.  It could be
Lady Diana.

He was about to leave the parlor when his mother entered the
room, and he bowed respectfully to her.

"Did Walter reassure you, Fox?" Lady Teena asked gently, and
Fox shrugged.

"I am not certain what he was trying to tell me, Mother," he
said frankly.

"Well," Lady Teena replied, seating herself on a convenient
sofa, "you must trust your wife to take care of you.  Now,
Fox--drop your breeches and get over my knee."

Fox gaped at his mother.  "What?  But--but why?"

She glared at him sternly.  "You know you are expressly
forbidden to ride out without an escort, Fox, and yet you
deliberately disobeyed me.  You took chances with your
virtue on the very day before I am to deliver you safely
into Lady Dana's hands, pure and untouched.  Had some women
from the village happened to discover you, all my plans
might have come to naught."

Fox licked his lips nervously, glancing around as if
wondering about the feasibility of an escape, and then
sighed.  He had never escaped his mother when she was bent
on punishing him, never in his life, and there was no reason
to believe he could today.  Besides, he thought angrily,
should he manage to elude Lady Teena, every female servant
on the estate would aid in locating him and gleefully
dragging him back to his mother, hoping to witness his
punishment for themselves.

"I hate being a man, Mother," he grumbled, hastily lowering
his breeches and arranging himself over her thighs.

"I know at times it is difficult, my son, but it is the way
of the world," she said, before bringing her bare hand down
sharply upon his upturned bottom.

"Ow!  Mother, please!" Fox yelped, surprised at the ferocity
of the smack.

"Don't 'Mother, please' me, young man," Lady Teena responded
grimly, smacking him again and yet again.  "You will *not*
place yourself in danger again, Fox.  Is that clear to you?"

She had only delivered half a dozen blows to his unprotected
backside, but Fox already felt as if his skin had caught
fire.  A no-nonsense woman, was Lady Teena, always getting
right down to business, and her bare hand could do as much
damage as any wooden paddle.

"Yes, ma'am, I--I promise!" he cried, his breath hitching as
he bit back a sob.  "I won't disobey you again, Mother, I
swear it!"

She rained another dozen smacks upon his sensitive flesh
before allowing him to slip off her legs and kneel beside
her on the floor.

"I'm sure you won't, my son," she dimpled, "but come
tomorrow, it's Lady Dana you'll be disobeying on occasion.
You'll be lucky if she doesn't take her strap to you, unless
you learn to control these wild impulses of yours."

At the mention of Lady Dana's strict nature, Fox was
suddenly overcome with dread at his impending marriage.  He
threw himself against his mother's knees, wrapping his arms
around her legs tightly.

"Mother, I beg of you--don't force me to marry Lady Dana,"
he pleaded.

"Now Fox," she replied, surprised at his reaction. "You have
always known the day would come when you would leave my
protection and go to become a husband."  She brushed the
tears from his face softly.  "Indeed, you are far older than
most men when they become husbands, my dear."

"But why do I have to marry at all?" he bargained
desperately.  "I'll stay here with you forever, Mother.  I
can take care of you."

She laughed.  "A man take care of a woman?  It's absurd,
Fox.  Besides, you are young, and beautiful, and many women
would seek your hand in marriage.  It is a fine match with
Lady Scully--I had to turn away several other suitors
because I felt they would be inappropriate wives for you,
but Lady Scully will be perfect."

"What other suitors, Mother?" he asked, hoping the
respectful tone in his voice would gain him an answer rather
than further punishment; Lady Teena did not enjoy having her
decisions questioned.

Her face darkened for a second, then cleared.  Perhaps the
boy did deserve to know--it might make him more appreciative
of his current situation.

"Lady Diana Fowley, for one," she said carelessly, and
smiled inwardly at his shudder.  "She offered me much gold
for your hand, and was quite disappointed when I refused."

Fox lay his head weakly against her legs, thinking of the
Lady Fowley and her wicked reputation.   He had known of her
attempts to wed him, although his mother was unaware of that
fact.  "Thank you, Mother," he said gratefully.  "Thank you
for not giving me to Lady Fowley.  She's quite frightening."

She smoothed his hair tenderly.  "Indeed she is, Fox.  You
have had a gentle upbringing, and I fear Lady Fowley will
treat her husband badly when she eventually marries.  She is
known for being quite cruel to her servants."

Fox nodded soberly.  He knew about Lady Diana's cruelty to
her servants better than anyone suspected.  He still felt
cold chills when he thought of poor Isaac, shivering in the
rain when Fox had found him, naked, a collar around his
neck, a chain attaching him to a stake in the ground as if
he were of no more consequence than a dog.

Fox had ridden Samantha out that day, farther than ever
before, lost deep in thought, and had not realized he'd
wandered onto Fowley lands until he came upon the poor man,
trapped and miserable.  Isaac had surveyed him warily as he
slipped from Samantha's back, but had merely lain in the
dirt, too weak to move.

"I won't hurt you, Sir," Fox said, and smiled at the look
the captive gave him; he was obviously a servant, and had
probably never been addressed as 'Sir' in his entire life.
Fox had been taught impeccable manners by his father, and
being the kind soul he was, they came naturally to him, no
matter the station of the person to whom he was speaking.

"How did you come to be here?" Fox asked, and the man took
several deep breaths before answering.

"I displeased my mistress."

"You must have angered her greatly, to find yourself in such
a position."

The man shrugged, saying nothing, his eyes averted.

"Who is your mistress?"

"Lady--Lady Diana Fowley," the prisoner told Fox, glancing
about nervously.

Fox did the same, at the unexpected answer, suddenly
realizing that he had ridden much farther than he'd
intended.  This spot of land didn't look familiar at all,
and he felt a bolt of fear when he saw that he was indeed
upon Fowley property.  He'd known Lady Fowley all his life,
and the stories of her cruelty were legendary.

"What did you do?" Fox asked curiously, examining the collar
which held the poor man.  It was of the finest leather, but
had obviously not been well cared for; it was worn in
several places.

"I--I dropped my lady's supper tray," the man admitted,
shamed.  "It was an accident," he added quickly.  "I
tripped.  I fear I am not the most graceful of men."

Fox smiled.  "Nor am I," he confessed.  "However, this
punishment seems excessive.  How long are you to remain
here?"

The man stared at Fox in confusion before remembering he was
addressing was a member of the nobility.  Being a man, Fox
had no doubt been punished before, but he might not
understand the severity with which a male servant was often
disciplined.

"They left me here," he said at last.  "I'm to stay here."

"For how long?" Fox asked again.

The man sighed.  "Are you really that stupid?  Until I die!"

Fox's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.  Punishment by
starvation for simply dropping a tray?

"How long have you been here?"

The man closed his eyes weakly.  "I don't know," he said at
last.  "Days.  The rain started this afternoon--I'm hoping
this will be my last day, but I still feel some strength.
I'm afraid I'll last a bit longer."

"You'll last considerably longer than that," Fox said with
determination, and cast his eyes about for a suitable tool.
Cursing the law that forbade males carrying weapons, he at
last located a sharp stone beneath a tree.  Coming back to
his new friend, he located the weakest spot in the leather
collar and began sawing at it with the rock.

The man stared at him in disbelief.  "Do you realize what
you're doing?" he demanded quietly.  "If you're caught--"

"If I'm caught, Lady Fowley could insist that I take your
place," Fox finished for him.  "Don't worry, my mother is a
kind Lady--she would never let that happen."

"But you'd still be punished."

"Severely," Fox agreed.  "Maybe even publicly.  But I will
be able to observe my reflection in the looking glass each
morning.  That I could not do, were I to leave you here to
die.  Can you walk, do you think?" he asked, helping the now
freed man to his feet.

The man clutched Fox's arm tightly and took a few careful
steps toward Samantha.  "I think so," he said gratefully.
"But not far."

Fox removed his cloak and wrapped it around the shivering
man, then helped him climb upon Samantha's back.  He mounted
behind, quickly urging the mare forward.  He wanted to put
as much distance between Lady Fowley and himself as
possible.

"What is your name?" Fox asked when they had at last escaped
the Fowley lands and were safely on Mulder territory.

"Isaac Tremont."

"I am Fox Mulder."

The man's back stiffened, and Fox held him steadily to
prevent him falling off the horse.  "You're the one!"  Isaac
exclaimed fiercely.

"The one?"

"Lady Fowley asked for your hand in marriage, and your
mother refused her.  She's been in a nasty temper ever
since.  We had all learned to hate you," Isaac admitted with
a small smile.

"How odd that you should hate me, since I had no say in the
matter.  Indeed, I did not know that Lady Fowley had asked
for me, but I am quite relieved my mother denied her.  I
have heard many tales about her cruelty, and now I see they
are true."

Isaac nodded soberly.  "You are right to fear her, Lord
Mulder."

Fox smiled.  "Please, call me Fox.  Nobody calls me Lord
Mulder.  Besides, I am only a man--we are largely in the
same situation.  I was only lucky enough to be the son of a
Lady instead of a worker.  I am still chattel."

"Where will you take me?"

"There is a deserted stable on our lands where you will be
safe until you are well enough to travel.  I'm sorry for the
poor accommodations," he apologized, "but you won't be
detected.  I'll have our groom, Langly, feed you and care
for you until you are well.  Then you must leave these
parts.  If Lady Fowley ever finds you, you will be sentenced
to death."

"And if she discovers your hand in freeing me--"

"Are you to be trusted, Isaac?"

"You have saved my life!" Isaac replied fervently.  "You may
trust me with yours."

"Then she won't find out," Fox said positively.  "You
needn't trouble yourself further on that account."

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the stable, and
Fox helped Isaac dismount from Samantha's back.  He settled
the weakened man upon a pile of old, musty straw, again
apologizing for the surroundings.

"I will send Langly to tend you immediately," he said. "And
now, I must return home.  I will be in trouble already, for
I'm not allowed to ride out alone," he grinned.

"My Lor--Fox--your cloak," Isaac said, still shivering with
the luxurious cloak wrapped around his naked body.  "You
must take it."

Fox shook his head.  "Keep it," he said.  "You are in far
worse need of it than I."

"I--I cannot thank you," Isaac began, and Fox smiled again.

"If ever you come upon me, naked and chained, feel free to
assist me," he told the man jovially.  Then, taking his
leave, he rode back toward the Mulder mansion.  He had to
see to Samantha, inform Langly of their new guest, and then
face the music with his mother.  Riding out alone, and
without his cloak, getting caught in a rainstorm--she was
going to be furious.

And she had been, he remembered now.  His backside had
suffered much over that incident, but Fox had accepted his
punishment gracefully, comforting himself with the knowledge
that he had saved a life.  It was the first truly meaningful
thing he had done in all his years, and he felt curiously
wonderful, even as he kicked and screamed beneath his
mother's punishing hand.

"Enough talk of Lady Fowley," Lady Teena said tenderly now,
observing the look of fear that crossed her son's face at
the mention of that Lady's name.  "You should spend the rest
of this evening in quiet reflection, Son.  You are about to
become a husband.  Your duties will be great, but I and your
father have prepared you well for them."

Fox nodded, rising to his feet and taking his leave of his
mother.

'Think of England', he mused as he climbed the stairs toward
his bedroom.  'I shall lie quietly and think of England
while my new wife takes my virginity.'

He shuddered again.  He only hoped Lady Dana would be a kind
mistress.  The loss of his virginity would be a terrible
enough ordeal; he never wanted to find himself chained,
naked in the rain.



Chapter 2



Fox stopped, halfway down the stairs on the way to his doom,
and listened.  Two of the Mulder family's male servants were
in the hallway below the landing, and it was the sound of
his own name that had given Fox pause.

Fox disliked these two men, largely because they were
well-known to be loose with their favors.  His mother had
warned him against associating with men of their ilk, lest
he be branded with a reputation, and Fox had heeded her
well.  Now, knowing he was the object of their speculation,
he felt his face flame.

"That Lord Fox isn't man enough for my Lady Dana," boasted
the first, a man named Tom Colton, who was a groundskeeper
for the Mulder estate.  Fox had never gotten along with Tom,
disliking the other man's sneering ways and condescending
manner.  "She's a wild woman, is her ladyship," continued
Colton.  She likes a man who knows what's what."

"But he'll be married to her after today," commented the
other servant, Jerry Lamana.  "Do you think she'll be
interested in bedding a cur like you with someone as lovely
as Fox warming her bed?"

Colton laughed.  "Oh, he's pretty all right, but he'll not
know what to do or how to please her.  Mark my words, Jerry
my boy, Lady Dana will be calling for my services soon
enough."

Fox trembled with fury at the conversation below, but kept
his peace, remaining still and quiet on the stairs.

"She is lovely, is Lady Dana," Jerry mused.  "Fox and I have
been friends all our lives.  He's always shared his
things with me.  Perhaps I should let the Lady Dana know
that I'm available."

Colton laughed again and slapped Jerry on the back.  "Of
course you're available, lad," he crowed.  "You're a man!
It's our lot in life to please the women, eh?"

The two servants carried their laughter outside, and Fox
fumed.  So Colton thought that Lady Dana would continue
bedding him even after her marriage, did he?  And Jerry--as
long as Fox could remember, Jerry had helped himself to
Fox's things, always with the excuse, 'I knew you wouldn't
mind.'  Fox had minded, all right, but he had been too
polite and gracious to mention it.  Sharing his wife,
though--it simply wasn't to be borne!

Of course, Fox knew that should Lady Dana desire to take a
lover, nobody would think less of her.  A woman could
indulge herself in all manner of indiscretions and still be
well-regarded socially, but should a man be found in the bed
of a woman who was not his wife, he'd be lucky to escape
with life and limb intact.

A lady had complete authority over her son or her husband,
legally able to do anything she wished with him short of
murder.  Even that was sometimes brushed beneath the carpet,
as Fox well knew--there had been cases where a husband had
died under mysterious circumstances, the flimsiest of alibis
and excuses offered by the lady, and no action was taken.
No lady of the nobility was ever going to go to prison for
the killing of a mere man.  It was simply unthinkable.  That
was why Lady Diana was able to treat her servants so poorly
and nothing was done to stop her.  Fox pitied the poor man
who ended up as Lord Fowley.

He shivered when he remembered how Colton had described Lady
Dana.  'A wild woman.'  How wild was she, exactly?  And how
wild would she be with him, an inexperienced virgin?  Would
she be gentle and patient, or callous and uncaring of his
apprehension?  He remembered her as a kind person, but that
had been in childhood.  Perhaps her time in the army had
changed her, hardened her.

Fox was suddenly gripped with incredible panic, and the only
thought on his mind was escape.  The carriage was waiting in
the drive, to take him and his mother to the Scully estate,
to change his life forever.  Once he belonged to Lady Dana,
she could do as she wished with him--beat him, starve him,
rape him, or lock him in the cellar for the rest of his
life.

Glancing around nervously, Fox forged ahead, acting without
planning, as he was occasionally wont to do.  If he could
make it to the stables and saddle up Samantha without being
seen, perhaps he could elude everyone for a few hours--long
enough to get away.  But where would he go?

He made certain the back hall was clear of servants, and
slipped out the service door.  It was nearer the stables,
and he couldn't go out the front door--the carriage was
there.  He made his way carefully to the stables, and
slipped into Samantha's stall.  Hastily, being as quiet as
he could, he saddled her and climbed upon her back.  He
urged Samantha out to the stable yard, and was just about to
make what he thought was a clean escape down the road when a
voice behind him halted his progress.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Fox pulled on the reigns and Samantha stopped.  He sighed
and closed his eyes briefly in defeat.  It was Langly, the
groom.

Fox turned to face the man with the long blond locks, who
stood glaring at him, arms crossed sternly over his chest.
"I'm going for a ride to calm my nerves," Fox told him
steadily, heart beating rapidly in his chest, hoping against
hope that Langly didn't realize the wedding was less than
two hours away.

But Langly did realize, and he shook his head, grinning.
"Fox, you'll be the death of me.  Don't you realize the
carriage is already waiting?"

Fox cast a quick glance toward the front of the mansion,
then turned back to Langly.  "Please, Langly," he implored.
"Can't you just pretend you didn't see me?"

Langly shook his head stubbornly.  "I'm afraid not, Fox.  If
Lady Teena questions me--"

"Tell her I hit you on the head and stole Samantha!" Fox
interrupted eagerly.  "Tell her anything you like, only
please let me go--I have to get away!"

Langly knew he should agree, but he had always had trouble
denying Lord Fox anything--those beautiful hazel eyes could
coax him into any manner of bad decisions.

"All right," he sighed at last, "but if your mother
questions me, I'm going to tell her you ran away."

"Just don't tell her where I've gone," Fox said, clicking
his tongue at Samantha to get her moving.

"Where *are* you going?"

"Don't know yet," called Fox over his shoulder, and moments
later he had disappeared around a bend in the road.

Langly shook his head and went back into the stables.  There
was going to be hell to pay over this, he could feel it in
his bones.

-----

Dana paced angrily back and forth in the great hall of the
Scully estate.  The wedding guests were all assembled, the
banquet was prepared, the vicar was present--the only thing
missing was the groom.  Lady Teena should have arrived half
an hour ago with Fox, but so far there had been no word nor
sign of them.  Vicar White, an understanding woman, had tried
to placate Dana by reminding her that Fox was a shy young
virgin, and that he had probably needed a little extra
coaxing to entice him to the wedding.

"Coaxing be damned!" Dana growled at last.  "What that boy
needs is some firm discipline!"

Lord Walter, seeing his own wife's dark face, cast quickly
about his mind for a solution.  Lady Maggie was usually 
kind and fair, but she was not above taking out her anger
on his backside at times, and he had no desire to go to
bed sore tonight because of her fury at Fox.

"Perhaps I should ride over and see what is keeping them?"
he asked Lady Maggie, and she nodded curtly.  Lord Walter
left the hall, already planning the revenge he would take
upon Fox, should he suffer for the boy's actions.  The Scully
estate was equipped with a very secure set of stocks, as he
already had discovered to his chagrin.

He'd just reached the front steps when Lady Teena's carriage
pulled to a stop, and he smiled.  Here they were now, and
only half an hour late--not bad for a shy bridegroom, really,
and perfectly understandable.  His smile faded when Lady
Teena, looking grim, emerged alone.

"My--my Lady," he said questioningly, "Where is Lord Fox?"

"You know as much about his whereabouts as do I, Walter,"
Lady Teena said in a voice that was calmly furious.

"Teena, what has happened?" asked Maggie from behind them,
and Teena sighed.

"My son has taken flight, I'm afraid, Maggie," she confessed.
"It seems he was more frightened of his impending marriage
than I had guessed."

"If he isn't now, he will be when I find him," Lady Dana
promised darkly, and Maggie smiled.  She had no doubts of
her daughter's ability to control Fox, once he was legally
bound to her.

"The boy must have ridden toward London," Teena surmised.
"He took his horse, and Langly, the groom, insists Fox
hit him over the head and knocked him silly in order to
steal Samantha, but he's lying.  Fox would no more hit
Langly on the head than he would hit me."

"Walter, disperse the wedding guests," Lady Maggie ordered, 
turning to her husband.  "Give them our apologies and send
them on their way.  There's no telling when we'll find
the boy.  Lady Teena and I will ride north toward London
to look for him.  I only hope we find him before he gets
captured by a band of highway women.  A man as pretty as
Fox, out on his own...we must hurry.  Dana, are you coming?"

"You go on ahead, Mother," Dana replied, chewing her lip
thoughtfully.  "I have another idea where Fox might have
gone."

Leaving Walter to bid her guests goodbye, Dana saddled 
Thunder and headed south.  Fox wouldn't go to London 
alone--he didn't know a soul there.  He did, however,
know someone in the next village to the south.  His
cousin Jake.  She remembered Jake from their childhood,
an attractive boy, almost as pretty as Fox, and they
shared many of the same features.  The boys had always
been close friends.  Naturally, Fox would flee to Jake
for help.  He had nowhere else to go.

-----

Fox rode south, knowing they would expect him to go north
to London, and kept Samantha off the well-traveled road.
He watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky, and
with it sank his stomach as well, for in his heart, Fox
knew his escape was only temporary; Lady Dana was not a
woman to be thwarted, and sooner or later they would find
him.

At first, Fox was able to keep his doubts at bay, but as
the afternoon waned, so did his confidence.  What was he
thinking, running away from home and leaving Lady Dana
standing at the altar like this?  She was a good, kind
woman, and powerful enough to protect him from anyone
who might want to harm him.  He was acting like a fool.

His own mother had told him that Lady Diana had asked
for his hand--he had seen for himself how that particular
lady treated her servants when she was angry.  He should
be on his knees thanking Lady Teena for arranging such
a wonderful match for him, and instead he was running
away like the most ungrateful of sons.  He should be
flogged.

Indeed, he thought ruefully, he probably would be, for
now his conscience had gotten involved, and he found he
had no choice but to turn back.  He would ride Samantha
directly to the Scully estate, beg Lady Dana's forgiveness
for deserting her this afternoon, and pray that she would
still accept him as her husband.  Never one to hesitate
once his mind was made up, Fox turned Samantha around and
started toward his village.

He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of hoofbeats 
approaching from the south.  Urging Samantha deeper into
the forest, Fox rode a little faster--he didn't want to
be heard, but neither did he wish to be overtaken.  A
man traveling alone could never be too careful.

His heart began pounding wildly in his chest when he 
heard female voices drawing nearer.  There had to
be several of them--three or four at least.  Crossing
his fingers, Fox made Samantha go still faster, hoping
to reach the Scully land before the women discovered
his presence.  

His hopes were dashed in the next instant when he found
himself surrounded by six of them.  With a sinking heart,
he recognized the symbol they wore on their shoulders--
they were Lady Fowley's servants.

"Well what have we here?" asked one of the women, her
eyes twinkling mischievously.  "It looks like a stray
Fox, out all alone."

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me--" Fox began, but got no further.

Ignoring his protests, the women dismounted and, grabbing
at Fox eagerly, pulled him from Samantha's back.  He struggled
against the hands that gripped his legs and arms, but was
hopelessly outnumbered.  He did manage to wriggle partially
away from them once, but they grabbed his legs and began
dragging him into the forest.

"Help!" Fox yelled, but the sound was muffled when he ended
up with a mouthful of dirt and leaves.  Tears came to his
eyes as his arms, face and chest scraped across the ground.

At last, they stopped dragging him and dropped his legs.  Fox
immediately scrambled to his feet, but the women were too 
fast for him.  They hauled him up and slammed him against
the trunk of a large tree, holding him in place while one
of the women wound a long rope around the trunk, tying him
in place.  When the knots were secured, Fox was helplessly
restrained--he tried pulling free but could make no 
headway.  Despairing, he sagged against the tree, blinking
back tears of fright.

-----

Dana rode quickly along the south road out of the village,
watching for any signs of Fox along the way.  She had
gone about five miles when she was taken aback at the sight
of a horse running madly in the opposite direction.  It had
lost its rider somewhere along the way, and from the brief
glimpse Dana caught, she was almost certain it was Fox's
horse, Samantha.  Her face darkened as she rode on, planning
just how she was going to punish her wayward groom when he
was safely under her control.  Dana didn't enjoy being made
to look a fool, and Fox would suffer for ditching her at
the altar.  She would make certain of it.  And if the little
fool had gotten himself into trouble...she shook her head
angrily and rode on.

She was nearing the Fowley land, and Dana imagined she could
smell the stench in the air.  Glory, but she hated Diana
Fowley.  The woman was absolutely evil, cruel to servants
and equals alike.  One day, Dana ambitioned, she was going
to kill Diana.  But not today.  Today she had to find her
soon-to-be-chastened, soon-to-be-husband and drag him
home.

Her attention was captured by noises off to the right, and
Dana pulled Thunder to a stop and listened.  Laughter.
Female laughter.  Her lips pressed grimly together, she
continued in the direction of the voices, hoping Fox
was still in one piece when she arrived.  She moved faster
when she heard Fox pleading desperately.

"Don't do that!  Let me go!  Lady Dana will never let you
get away with this!"  

So, the little idiot had managed to find trouble after all;
she should have guessed he would.  Fox had been a trouble
magnet when they were children, and obviously he had not
changed.  She'd rescue him, all right--then she'd make him
sorry.

"But Lady Dana isn't here," one of the women reminded him,
and Dana's eyes narrowed when she saw the woman in question
pulling Fox's ripped shirt aside so she could fondle his
chest.  "We're going to have a bit of fun with you ourselves,
then take you on to Lady Fowley.  She's had her eye on
you for a long time."

Fox had been tied to a tree, and six women surrounded him,
all taking liberties with his person in ways that would
have made any well-protected man like Fox blush in 
mortification.  His hair was mussed and his shirt ruined,
but his breeches were still fastened, she noted with
satisfaction.  They obviously hadn't been tormenting him
for long.  Her Fox was still a virgin, if a little roughed
up and frightened.

Dana raised her pistol into the air and fired one shot, and
seven heads jerked toward her.  The identical look of surprise
on six female faces was comical, but it was the expression
of sheer relief on Fox's countenance that touched her heart.
He was so beautiful, and so achingly innocent still.

"Ladies, I see you found my missing groom," Dana said easily.
"Thank you for detaining him for me.  You may leave us now."

The Fowley servants, all unarmed and none of them stupid,
quickly mounted their horses and vacated the area, leaving
Fox at Lady Dana's mercy.

She climbed down from Thunder's back and approached him slowly,
and Fox closed his eyes fearfully, willing his breathing to
resume.  At last, when she said nothing, he opened them and
gave her a pleading hazel gaze.
Her expression was amused.  "Did they hurt you?" she asked
solicitously.

He shook his head.

"Good."  She walked around the tree, inspecting him, but
did not release him.  "I don't suppose you have an
explanation for this?" she asked when she again stood before
him.

Fox shook his head again, knowing that any excuse he offered
would likely make his situation worse.

"Where's your horse?"

"She ran," Fox said disgustedly.  "She's probably back home
eating her supper by now."

"Exactly where you ought to be."

He closed his eyes again, resting his head against the tree,
and wondered if she would kill him nor or marry him first,
just to make it pseudo-legal.

"I'm not such a bad person, you know."

Her words startled him, and his eyes flew open again.  "I
know," he muttered, staring at the ground.

"I can't understand why you would want to run away from me.
I've never been unkind to you.  Were you really that afraid
of marriage, Fox?"

"I wasn't afraid!" he protested proudly, but his pride faltered
when she leaned close and spoke to him in a low, husky voice
that sent a tingle throughout his body.

"You're already in more trouble than you can imagine," she
informed him softly.  "Don't compound your punishment by
lying to me now."

He kept up the pretense a moment longer, then dropped his
head in shame.  "I'm sorry, Lady Dana," he whispered.  "I
lied to you.  I was afraid, but I was also angry."

"Angry at me?" she questioned, cocking her eyebrow at him in
a way that he found strangely endearing.

"I know you've been having affairs with lots of men," he told
her defiantly.

She looked even more amused at his statement.  "Define 'lots'."

"Well..."  He paused, but she waited patiently.  "Tom Colton,"
he finally burst out.  "And Jerry Lamana.  Two of my family's
own servants, Lady Dana!  And they expect to continue serving
you whenever you wish their company, even after we're married!
I know it isn't fashionable for women to be faithful to their
husbands, but I would hope you would at least show me the 
respect--"

"Hush!" Dana thundered, and Fox clamped his luscious lips shut
immediately.  "I've never taken Jerry Lamana, nor would I. The
man is a weasel.  As for Tom..."  She placed her hands on either
side of his head and forced him to look her in the eyes.  "I
did have Tom once.  It was...less than memorable.  Besides, Tom
is too aggressive for my tastes.  I do the pursuing in a
relationship--I don't want a man pursuing me.  It's unseemly."

He gazed down at her honest blue eyes and knew she was telling
the truth.

"What about the others?" he asked in a small voice.  "Will you--
have other lovers after we're married?"

She considered his question.  "I will if I choose, for it's a
wife's prerogative to do so," she told him firmly.  "On the
other hand, I expect to keep myself quite busy with you," she
added, her eyes twinkling.  "I doubt I'll have time for other
men.  Now--would you like me to release you from the tree?"

"Please," he said gratefully.

Dana pulled out her dagger and sliced through the ropes that
bound him, and moments later Fox was free.  He rubbed the
circulation back into his arms while he stared at the forest
around them.

"It's getting dark," he observed.

"Indeed it is."

"It's a long walk back home."

"And by all rights, I should make you walk it," she told him
icily.  "I should tie a rope about your neck, attach it to
my saddle, and force you to walk every step of the way home."

He shuddered, and his lower lip trembled a bit.  Dana softened
at the sight.  She had plans for that lip, that tongue, that
entire wonderful mouth, and she didn't want Fox to be too
exhausted to please her in their marriage bed, so she relented.
Removing Thunder's saddle, she placed it on the ground at the
base of the tree.

"I'll send a servant to fetch it," she told him.  "We'll ride
home bareback.  Now, up with you."

He made as if to throw his leg over the horse's back, and she
stopped him.  

"Not like that.  You're riding in front of me, with your
bottom well within my reach."

Fox glared at her, but in the end he really had no choice.  He
managed to climb onto the horse's back and situate himself to
her satisfaction, and tried not to wince in anticipation when
Dana mounted behind him.  His head and arms hung down on one
side of the horse and his long legs on the other, leaving his
defenseless bottom directly in her line of fire.

Dana surveyed the shapely behind, encased in tight tan breeches,
and smiled.  Marriage was going to be fun.  She landed a hard
smack on each of the well-rounded cheeks, and was rewarded
with a satisfying yelp from her future husband.

"You should thank me, Fox," she said mildly as they started
toward home.  "I saved you from a fate worse than death."

She was right, damn it! he fumed, and mumbled, "Thank you, Lady
Dana.  Hey! Stop that!" he yelled as her smacks grew harder.

"I couldn't hear you, Fox."

"I said thank you, damn it!" he groused, and nearly fell off the
horse as he squirmed to avoid another slap to his buttocks.

"Whoa, Thunder," Dana called, and the big gelding paused
obediently,
waiting patiently while Dana yanked Fox's arms up behind his back
and bound his wrists together with a piece of rope she'd salvaged
from the tree.  "I had a feeling this might come in handy," she
commented, flicking the reigns to start Thunder moving again.

Fox groaned, feeling the soreness in his arms returning now that
they were tied again, but said nothing more.  The ache in his
arms was nothing compared to the stinging in his bottom that
grew worse with every step, and they were still several miles from
home.  He was in no position to argue.

By the time they approached the Scully mansion, Fox was sniffing
back tears, hanging limply across Thunder.

"Please Dana, no more," he whimpered as her hand struck his behind
yet again.  She had dealt out a firm spanking all the way home,
not too hard, but never pausing either, and by now Fox felt as if
his buttocks had surely caught fire.

His face flamed with embarrassment as they rode up the carriageway
on Thunder's back, his punished bottom upturned for all to see.
At least he was still clothed, he thought gratefully.  Had it
been his mother spanking him, his backside would have been bared,
regardless of who was in attendance.  Lady Dana had at least
done him the kindness of allowing him to remain covered.

"I see you found him," Lady Maggie remarked calmly as Dana pulled
Thunder to a halt.

"Diana Fowley's servants had captured him," Dana reported, feeling
anger surge back into her at the memory of what might have happened
to Fox.  "They would have undoubtedly turned him over to the Lady
Fowley once they'd had their fun."

"Oh, Fox, are you all right?" Lady Teena asked anxiously, examining
her son, who still lay sprawled over Thunder's back.

"He is," Dana answered for him.  "For now.  Mother is the vicar
still here?"

"Oh yes, I had her wait," Maggie smiled.  "I knew when Teena and I
found no trace of Fox on the road to London, that you would be
bringing him back.  Fox," she walked around the horse to face her
disobedient son-in-law.  "You were very naughty to worry us all
this way, and to place yourself in danger.  I do hope my daughter
takes a firm hand with you once you're married."

"Speaking of marriage, let's get the deed done," Dana interrupted,
stalking toward the house.  "Walter, would you see to Fox?"

Lord Walter helped Fox down from the horse, and they both turned
when Dana's voice floated back to them, "And don't untie him!"

Walter, who had been about to free Fox's hands, dropped them
instead and took Fox by the arm.  Ignoring the younger man's
pleading looks, he ushered Fox inside and into the small salon
where the vicar waited.

"Ah, Lord Fox," Vicar White smiled.  "I'm so happy that you were
found unharmed.  Shall we proceed, then?"

She performed the marriage ceremony quickly, ignoring the fact
that the groom was filthy and still had his hands tied behind
his back, and within a few minutes, Fox Mulder had ceased being
his mother's property and had become Fox Mulder Scully, husband
and chattel of Lady Dana.  As soon as the marriage was completed
and the papers all signed, Dana excused herself and Fox.

"Fox has had a long day," she offered.  "I'm certain he'd like
a bath, and a rest."

Lady Maggie and Lady Teena smiled at one another, and Fox glanced
desperately toward Lord Walter as his new wife pulled him from
the room.

"England," mouthed Walter in his direction, and Fox shuddered.

He was certain his lady and mistress was about to punish him
severely for running away and endangering himself this afternoon,
and then she was going to take his virginity.  He didn't know
which he feared most.

Lady Dana marched her husband up the stairs, giving him a light
shove each time he appeared to be slowing, and long before Fox
was prepared, they had reached the upper floor.  At the top of
the stairs she turned left, and they walked down a long corridor
and through a set of massive double wooden doors.
"This is the East Wing," Dana informed him as she closed the doors,
effectively cutting him off from his mother, Lady Maggie, Lord
Walter, and any servants who might be inclined to come to his
rescue.  Fox swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to pay
attention to what Lady Dana was saying.

"This is our part of the mansion.  Mother and Lord Walter occupy
the West Wing.  We all take our meals together as a family,
downstairs.  As my husband, you will naturally be expected to
take over the running of my household.  Tomorrow I'll take you
around the estate and introduce you to all the servants."

"Yes, my lady," Fox whispered, following as she led the way to an 
enormous bed chamber.

A tub of steaming water sat in the center of the floor, but Fox
could barely tear his eyes from the huge bed that dominated
the room.  He swallowed again, trying to quell his fear.  By
the time this night was through, he would no longer be a virgin.
How badly would she hurt him?  He sighed.  He wouldn't know until
it happened, and there was nothing he could do about it anyway; 
his hands were still bound behind his back.

He glanced toward his wife, who had moved toward the tub, and
blushed when he realized she was quite unselfconsciously shedding
her clothes.  Naked, she stepped into the tub of water and
relaxed against it, closing her eyes.

"You certainly led me a merry chase today," she commented lazily.

"I'm sorry, Lady Dana.  I shouldn't have run."  Fox tried to insert
just enough contrition into his voice that Dana wouldn't open her
eyes and see him edging slowly toward the door.

"You certainly shouldn't have," she agreed, grabbing a cloth and
beginning to scrub her skin clean.  "If you ever run away from
me again, I'll take my crop to your backside."

Fox didn't respond, just moved a little closer to the chamber door
and possible freedom.

Quickly finishing her bath, Dana stood and reached for the drying
towel that a servant had laid out on a nearby chair.  She dried
her body and then threw the towel over her head to rub at her
hair.
As soon as Dana's face was hidden by the towel, Fox lunged
for the door, scrabbling for the doorknob blindly behind his
back.  He managed to get hold of the knob and twisted it
frantically, realizing too late that she had locked them in the
bed chamber.  Fox froze, watching fearfully as his wife tossed the
towel aside and approached him, anger darkening her features.

She was still naked, and he couldn't help staring at her raw
beauty as she drew near.  He felt his blush creeping up from
his neck until it reached his hairline, but still was unable to
tear his eyes from her naked form.

"Did I not inform you, only moments ago, of what would happen
to you should you try to run again?" she questioned silkily.

His mouth dropped open and he felt his stomach turn to water.
"I--I--uh--" he managed before she grabbed him by the rope that
bound his wrists and flung him to the bed.

Fox tried desperately to wriggle away from her, but Dana planted
herself firmly on his legs, and before he knew what had happened
she had tied one of his ankles to a bedpost with her scarf.  Then
she rose and, opening a closet, withdrew three more long,
colorful scarves.  Fox buried his face in the coverlet while she
proceeded to tie his other ankle to the bed, then cut the rope
that bound his wrists and followed suit with them.  Soon he was
spread-eagled on the bed, face down, awaiting whatever punishment
she chose to inflict upon him.  He could already anticipate the
burning in his still-stinging backside.

Dana climbed upon him, straddling his hips, and Fox glanced around
to see what she was doing.  His face drained when she withdrew
her dagger, and he was unable to suppress his gasp of fear.

She smiled mirthlessly and, pulling his ruined shirt from his
breeches, sliced away at the fabric until it was nothing but rags.
She tossed the remnants of cloth aside and then disposed of his
breeches in the same manner.  He now lay before her clad in
nothing but his riding boots.  He buried his face again, trying
to ignore his feelings of shame.

"What did I say I would do to you if you ran again, Fox?" she
demanded gently, twining her fingers in his silky hair and turning
his face to hers.

Fox clenched his eyes tightly shut.  "You said you'd take your
crop to me."

"So I did," she agreed.  "And you had already earned yourself
one punishment for running away and leaving me waiting for you
at the altar.  You're not off to a very good beginning, are you,
my dear?"

"My lady--" he began desperately, but she interrupted.

"I think, under the circumstances, you should simply call me
'Dana,'
she told him calmly.  "After all, Fox, you belong to me now.  I'm
your wife.  In a few minutes, I'm going to punish you for your
wrongdoings.  Then you are going to get into the tub and wash the
day's grime off yourself.  After that, you will come to my bed
and I will take your virginity.  This is still our wedding night,
even though you've been dreadfully naughty."

She climbed off the bed and began roaming about the room.  Fox
tracked her with his eyes as far as he could, but lost sight of
her behind a dressing screen.

"Lady--Dana?" he said tremulously.

She poked her head around the screen.  "Yes, Fox?"

"Please--I'm sorry for trying to run.  I'm really sorry for
standing you up today.  I promise I'll never do anything like
that again."

She smiled at him.  "I know you won't."

"Does that mean you won't punish me?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed out loud at that.  "No, Fox," she informed him
brightly, returning from the other side of the screen with a
nasty looking crop in her hand.  "It means that by the time
I've finished punishing you, you'll never think about
running away from me again."

Before he had time to protest, the crop fell on his bare ass
and Fox screamed.  It felt like a streak of fire had branded
his skin.  Lady Teena had been fondest of using her bare hand,
and no punishment she had meted out to him had ever hurt this
badly.  He had gravely underestimated his new Lady.
The crop made a swishing sound through the air and fell again,
hitting him directly beneath the first mark.

"Oh, please!" he cried, chocking back sobs.  "Please, Dana, I
promise to be good!"

"Oh, you'll be good, all right," she said grimly, laying a third
welt beneath the previous two.

Fox twisted and squirmed, tugging with all his might at the
scarves,
but Dana had tied him tightly and he was helpless.  Her crop fell
again and again on his unprotected skin, and soon he was a sobbing
wreck.

"Are you going to run away again?" she demanded, laying strokes
four and five on his tender thighs.

"No!  No!  I swear it!" he promised fervently.  "Please, please
stop!"

"Are you ever going to keep me waiting again?"

"Oh! OW!  No, never!"

"Are you ever going to ride off without an escort again?" she
continued, landing the hardest stroke of all right across the
crease at the top of his thighs.

He screamed again, jerking madly to try and escape her punishing
crop.  "No!  Please!  Please no more..."  He dissolved into 
helpless cries of agony, and Dana felt her heart melt.  He was
just so cute, this husband of hers, especially sobbing his heart
out into the coverlet while his lovely backside glowed with the
marks of her ownership.

She sat beside him on the bed, petting his silken back and
caressing his sweat-soaked hair.  "Shh...there, now, it's all
over," she murmured soothingly.  "You earned that punishment
well, but you've paid the price now.  It's all right."

Fox cried until he had no more tears left, then he simply lay
there,
exhausted, and let her stroke him up and down his back. 
Occasionally
her had would roam lightly over his buttocks and he would wince.

Dana saw, and smiled.  Her lovely new possession would not soon 
forget this punishment, of that she was certain.

Fox came back to awareness when he realized she was loosening
the scarves that tied him.  He opened his eyes and glanced at
her warily.

"Into the bath with you," she said tenderly.  "Wash yourself
quickly and then return to me.  I wish to make love to my
new husband."

He obeyed, hissing in pain as his burning bottom met the cooling
water.  Hastily, Fox scrubbed away the dirt that he had accumulated
during his adventure, and within in minutes presented himself
before his wife, a drying towel wrapped securely around his waist.
She reached out one hand, with an evil smile, and flicked it away.
Fox felt his face burn again.

"Lie on the bed on your back," she instructed, and he sighed when
she began fastening him to the bed with the scarves again.

"Please Dana, no more," he whimpered softly as she completed her
task.

"Shh, darling, no more punishment tonight, just pleasure," she
promised, dousing the lantern.

"Pleasure?" he asked, feeling his panic already beginning to rise
as she slipped into bed beside him in the darkened room.  "There's
no pleasure for a man in lovemaking."

She lay beside him, and he heard her laugh softly as her hands
began roaming over his chest.  He felt his nipples tighten, and
was aware of a not-unpleasant ache between his legs.

"I know that's what you've been told," she informed him gently.
"The man is supposed to lie quietly while his lady takes her
pleasure, and he is to hide his own discomfort."

"Isn't that true?" he asked, turning wide eyes to her in the
moonlight.

She shook her head, smiling so broadly he could see her teeth 
gleaming in the darkness.  "No, my love.  Not always.  Not for
us, I hope.  I would like you to gain as much pleasure from
our lovemaking as I."
"But I thought--"  He stopped, feeling his face flame for
what had to be the thousandth time that day.

"What did you think?"

"I thought--that is, I was told--that sex was just for
making babies. That once you'd gained seed from me and
gotten with child, you would--"

She laughed out loud.  "That I would leave you alone?"

He nodded, ashamed.

"Fox, my beautiful, beautiful Fox.  Sex is for making
babies, but it is also for pleasure between a woman and a
man.  Pleasure for *both* parties.  I hope to have you
father many of my children, but more than that, I very much
want you to crave my touch and my lovemaking."

He was silent for a long moment, and then she heard a
whispered, "I don't see how that's possible."

"Lie there, darling, and let me show you."

'England,' he thought frantically as she began to kiss his
chest and belly.  'England.  What the hell am I supposed to
*think* about England? It's where I live, where I'll always
live.  Big deal.  What is thinking about England supposed to
do for me oh my God what is she doing?'

Her mouth had found his sex, and as Fox twisted and writhed
against his bonds, in pleasure this time rather than in
pain, Dana licked and sucked and coaxed him to a hardness
he'd never before believed possible.

"Please...Dana...please...I need..."

"What do you need, Fox?" she asked impishly, raising her
head to stare at his luminous eyes.

"I--I--"  Fox didn't know what he needed, but he knew if
he didn't receive it soon, he'd die.

Like most gently reared men, he'd never experienced the 
completion of his arousal before.  In the past, whenever 
inappropriate thoughts had led him anywhere near this state, 
he'd managed to calm his fire with a cold bath or a run 
around the Mulder properties.  It had never occurred to him 
to wonder what would happen if these steps weren't taken.  
He had always feared such a thing, knowing that failure to 
calm his burgeoning manhood was bound to bring about the pain 
that men felt when they lost their virginity.  

His thrashing grew more intense as the tightness in his
groin increased, and when she swallowed him whole again, Fox
felt a tension invade his entire body, and then he was
screaming her name, and fluid was leaking from him into her
mouth, and he was bucking up, pushing upwards into her,
completely without his senses.

As Fox gradually floated back down to awareness, he slowly
realized that his wife was cleaning him off, lapping eagerly
at the fluid that had escaped from his sex.

"What...what happened?" he asked groggily.

"You reached your man's release," she told him in a
satisfied voice. "Did it hurt?"

He shook his head in wonderment.  "It was the most
incredible thing I've ever felt," he told her seriously.
"But what is all this...?"

"That's your seed."

"My seed?  I had no idea it would be so messy."

She laughed again.  "Don't worry about it, dear.  I'll clean
you all up."

"Are you pregnant now, Dana?" he asked sleepily as he felt
her releasing the scarves that bound him.

She chuckled to herself at his innocence.  Fox had so much
to learn, and she would delight in teaching him every
wonderful thing about her body and his own.

"No, Fox, for me to get pregnant, you must spill your seed
inside me."

"But I did, in your mouth," he argued, clearly puzzled.

"You must spill it in my womb, in my woman's sex," she told
him.  "Now go to sleep.  Tomorrow, I'll let you experience
that pleasure again, and I'll teach you how to pleasure me
as well."

Fox snuggled obediently into her arms and was soon fast
asleep.



Chapter 3


Fox was awakened very early in the morning by an odd
sensation between his legs.  It felt like feathers caressing
him, and he giggled before opening his eyes.  When he did,
he saw wisps of Dana's red hair tickling his sex.

"What are you doing?" he giggled again.  "That tickles!"

"I'm playing with my new toy," she told him smugly.  "I
rather like your body, Fox.  You're quite beautiful."

Fox was embarrassed at her praise, but felt himself growing 
more aroused, and for a moment he was frightened.  Would she 
take him into her woman's sex this time?  Would this be the 
pain that boys were warned about when they lost their 
virginity?  But it hadn't hurt last night, it had been 
wonderful.  His toes tingled when he remembered the sensation.  
Maybe spilling his seed into Dana's mouth didn't count as 
losing his virginity.  Maybe that hurdle was still to be 
jumped.

"Dana?" he asked tremulously, reaching down to gently push
her away from himself.  "When is it going to hurt me?  Can't
we just get it over with?"

She laughed aloud, and he felt his face flush with anger.
She was actually laughing at his fear!  Humiliated, he turned 
on his side, facing away from her, and closed his eyes.  He 
opened them again with a loud yelp when her hand smacked his
bottom.

"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing at the red mark
she'd left on his cheek.

"General insolence," she replied, rising from the bed and
pulling the bell to summon a servant.  "I won't tolerate
this attitude from you, Fox, especially not in the morning.
I want you sunny and cheerful in my bed when I awaken every
day.  It's a husband's job to please his wife."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes on the floor.  A familiar
sense of failure crept in.   "I guess I haven't done my job 
very well so far, have I?"

Dana softened at his wistful tone.  "You've done all right,"
she said, ruffling his hair.  "The first time is always
frightening for a man, but I promise you, Fox, the fear of
pain is merely something fathers pass on to keep their sons
pure until their marriage.  I'm not going to hurt you."  She
grinned impishly.  "Well, not in that way, at least.  But I
will spank your bottom if you're not suitably covered by the
time the bath water arrives.  I don't want the servants
gawking at you whilst you're in my bed chamber."

She tossed him a robe, which he donned quickly, hoping to
avoid further punishment, and was covered in the nick of
time.  He was still tying the sash around himself when
a knock sounded.

"Enter," called Dana, and the door opened to reveal six
servants lugging huge buckets of steaming water.

Fox felt their curious eyes upon him, and kept his own gaze
fixed studiously on his bare feet until they left.   So
intent was he on ignoring everyone else in the room that he 
didn't realize Dana had approached him until she was tugging 
at the sash, and his robe fell to the floor.

He gasped and tried to turn away, but Dana was too quick
for him.  She soon had him pinned against the wall, her
hands running up and down the length of his chest.  He felt
his breathing grow heavy as his sex began to awaken and
press into her belly.

"Dana...I...really think we should...get in the bath..." he
panted, trying desperately to avoid the probing fingers that
were drifting lower, lower and twining in the hair
surrounding his manhood.  He winced as she tugged at the
sensitive hairs, and she smiled.

"You're right," she agreed, wrapping her fingers firmly
around his sex and beginning to back toward the tub. He had 
no choice but to follow, as she had the most sensitive part 
of his body held captive.

She helped him climb into the tub, and then he was horrified
to see that she climbed in with him.  He had never shared
a bath with anyone in his life, and certainly not a woman!

"There's not really room--" he began, but she stopped him by
devouring his mouth with her own.

Fox had never been kissed like this--oh, he'd been kissed
before, of course.  A few stolen pecks behind the barn with
one of the housemaids, and then there had been the little
girl who lived on the neighboring property when they were
both kids, but he'd never felt his head swim and his body go
weak the way it was right now.  Her kiss was hypnotic.

"Please...Dana..." he moaned, and she smiled against his
lips.

Suddenly, without speaking a word, she shifted position, and 
he felt her raise herself a little and grasp his sex, and then 
she was--oh goodness, she *wasn't*--she was--she was *sitting* 
on him--no, she was slipping him inside herself...this simply
couldn't be, it simply wasn't done, it was horrible, it was...
it was...wonderful...

Fox felt his dizziness increase as his manhood was
engulfed by her smooth woman's flesh.  Dana was moving up
and down, stimulating nerve endings he hadn't known he
possessed,  and he cried out his pleasure as she increased her
pace.

"Oh please please," he whimpered, not knowing what he was
pleading for, not knowing exactly what was happening, but
only knowing it had to be the most incredible sensation of
his life, this couldn't possibly be legal, this thing that
felt so good, and then she was leaning forward, kissing him,
her tongue darting into his mouth and claiming him
possessively.

Without warning, she drew away from his mouth, threw her head
back and emitted an animal sound of pure pleasure.  At
the same time, Fox felt his seed begin to spill from his
body into hers.  He pushed against her over and over again,
convulsing in the throes of his pleasure, until he was 
completely spent.  Breathlessly, he collapsed against
the back of the tub while she lay softly on his chest,
her head nestled beneath his chin.  He felt her kiss on his
shoulder, and sighed contentedly.  Being married wasn't so
bad.  Not bad at all.  A bit embarrassing, perhaps, but
blissful, nonetheless.

"Fox, wake up."  He opened his eyes to find her patting his
cheek, the water grown quite cold in the tub.  He shivered.

"You fell asleep," she smiled, "and I decided to let you have 
a little nap.  "You must be exhausted after last night and 
this morning."

Fox averted his eyes, discomfited at her reference to their
lovemaking activities, and climbed from the tub. He glanced at 
himself, still sticky with the remnants of their passion, and 
bit his lip.  He didn't want to complain, but he certainly 
didn't  relish the thought of getting dressed while still 
covered with the evidence of being taken so thoroughly.

She seemed to read his mind.  "It's all right, I've already
rung for more water," she told him, and laughed when he
darted beneath the covers at the knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, and the same six servants entered,
bearing more water.

Fox buried his flaming face in his hands, knowing all the
servants were aware of what had happened, knowing that while 
their eyes were on their task, their smirks were directed at 
him. After behaving so wantonly, giving himself up completely 
to his new wife's sexual demands and enjoying her attentions
like a backstreet slut, he now had to be stared at by the
servants, people he knew for a fact gossiped outrageously.
His humiliation was complete.

When the servants had at last departed, Dana ordered Fox
into the bath while she stepped behind the screen to dress.
Emerging a few minutes later, she was surprised to find him 
still huddled in their bed.

"Do you refuse to obey me already, husband?" she enquired
curiously.  "Was my crop on your backside not enough
persuasion?"

"They all know," he muttered stubbornly, his eyes trained on
his clenched hands.  "They were all laughing at me."

"Know what?  That I made a man of you last night, and again
this morning?  That I made you moan and scream with pleasure
at my touch?"

He bit down sharply on his lower lip, but gave no answer.  She 
crossed to the bed and lifted his chin with her fingers.

"Are you ashamed of being my husband, Fox?"

He shook his head wordlessly.  He wasn't ashamed, but how
could he explain to Dana his feelings--that it seemed
impossible to face the servants, direct them in their
household tasks, when all of them knew what had happened
to him last night.

"What happened between us is perfectly natural," she 
continued.  "Of course they know.  Every person who knew we 
were to be married yesterday knows that today, you belong to 
me completely. They all knew that last night I would take you 
to my bed and teach you about becoming a man.  You surely
were aware of this, Fox."

"I was so...so...shameless!" he whispered, casting his eyes
down again.  It was too difficult to look her in the eyes
after he'd screamed out his abandon in her arms.

"You were beautiful," she told him firmly, "and very
pleasing to me.  That should be all you think of."

"Yes, my lady."  He squared his shoulders, reminded of
his duty.  He was being silly.  Every man who had ever
married had gone through this--losing virginity did not
kill a man.  Indeed, Fox could now testify that it was not
painful in the least.

"Now, climb into that tub and wash yourself, and then
present yourself to me for your punishment."

Startled, his head jerked up and two pleading hazel eyes 
met hers. "Pun-punishment, my lady?  But why? What have I 
done?"

"Disobeying and arguing," she informed him.  "I intend for
us to go riding this morning, and I don't like to be kept
waiting.  After your actions of yesterday, I'd think
you would be more careful not tp anger me, Fox.  Now,
if you're not finished with your bath and leaning over this 
bed in ten minutes, I'm going to add five extra strokes for 
every minute you're late."

Fox was out of the bed in a flash, racing across the room in
such a hurry that his foot tangled in the sheet and he
tripped.  He righted himself hurriedly and slipped into the
tub, reaching for the washing cloth and cleaning himself
faster than he ever had before.  He didn't know how many
strokes Dana intended to give him for his disobedience, but
he was certain that he didn't want any extras added. 

Dana kept her eyes trained on the clock on the mantle, and
was pleased when Fox presented himself to her in just under
the allotted ten minutes.

"Very well done," she said approvingly.  "Now, bend over 
here,"  she instructed, pushing him down over the
footrail of the bed.  It was a high bed, and the footrail
was the perfect height for Fox to lean over while being
punished.  It put his shapely bottom well within her reach.

His nose pressed into the rumpled coverlet, Fox awaited his
discipline with a small sigh.  He closed his eyes while she 
positioned him to her satisfaction, and then held his breath.  
He hoped she wasn't using the crop this time.

"Ouch!" he yelled when the first blow hit.  She was only
using her bare hand, but in his haste he hadn't dried
himself adequately, and the sting of her palm on his
still-wet buttocks was incredible.

There was no pausing between blows this time, no quizzing
him about future behavior.  His mistress was merely
punishing him for his disobedience and general attitude this
morning, and Fox soon lost count as smack after smack hit
his sensitive bottom.

"Please!  Please, I'm sorry!  Oh, please stop..." he wept,
but she continued on and on.  His feet danced but he dared
not rise from the position in which she had placed him.

After several steady minutes of spanking, during which Fox
swore to himself that he would not beg her to stop, he 
finally broke down.  "I'll be good, please Dana, I promise 
I'll be good!" he wailed, clutching desperately at the
coverlet with his fists.

At last she stopped, rubbing her hands soothingly over his
tortured flesh, and he buried his face in the covers to hide
his sobs.  

"There, now," she murmured.  "You'll learn, my sweet Fox.
You'll learn to obey me."

Giving one last light smack that took him by surprise and
elicited another yelp, she bade him dress and join her at
breakfast.

Once he was alone, Fox surveyed his damaged behind in the
looking glass.  The welts from last night's punishment were
still faintly visible, and his entire bottom was a
frightening scarlet color from this most recent spanking.
With a shudder, he reached for his clothes and began to
dress.  He certainly didn't want to give his wife reason to
be displeased with him again so soon.  He had no doubt that
her words were true--he would lean to obey her quickly.  He
had been married less than twenty-four hours and already
he had been punished severely on two occasions.  If she was
going to be this unbending as a wife, he would learn to
obey or she would end up killing him, he reflected.  

He winced as his breeches aggravated his sore behind with
every step he took.  And he was supposed to go riding
after this?  Maybe she would let him ride face down over 
her horse again--at least his bottom wouldn't be slapped 
against a hard saddle that way.  On the other hand, she might 
decide to spank him further, simply for her own amusement.

A man's lot in life, he mused in frustration--there was no
way to win.

Fox ate breakfast quickly, not wanting to sit in the dining
room chairs any longer than was absolutely necessary--they
had no cushions, and the hard wood was torture on his sore
bottom.  As soon as his lady beckoned, Fox bobbed up from
his chair, ignoring her satisfied smile, and followed her
out the back door toward the stables.

He stopped short when they reached the back courtyard of the
mansion.  A construction project was taking place, and Fox
paled when he realized just what was being built.

"Should be ready by this evening, my lady," called one of the
workers cheerfully, and Dana nodded.

"For you," she smiled, and Fox shot her a sour look, for
there, next to what he was certain was a perfectly adequate
stocks, another was currently being constructed.

"I--I--" he stammered, and she took his hand, leading him
gently toward the stables.

"Behave yourself, and you will never end up there," she
promised him.  "I only use the stocks as a particularly
harsh punishment, although I do believe Mother is rather
fond of them.  Walter is quite well acquainted with his
own."

"Wonderful," Fox muttered under his breath, and she turned 
back to him with a warning look.

"What did you say?"

"N-nothing, my lady," he replied hastily.  "Are you certain
we must ride?  I don't have my horse, and I haven't ridden
anyone except Samantha in years.  Perhaps I could walk..."

She laughed as they disappeared into the stables.


-----

"Why do I have to wear these?" he scowled, staring at the
high heeled boots she presented to him.

Dana sighed patiently.  She'd arranged a ball to present Fox
as her husband to all their friends and neighbors, and their
guests would be arriving in less than one hour.  Now Fox was
being difficult.

"Because, I like you in them," she countered firmly.  "They
make you even taller, and the taller a man is, the more
attractive a woman finds him."

"I thought you didn't like other women looking at me," he
objected, still staring at her with crossed arms, refusing
to accept the boots.

"You're wrong.  I enjoy other women looking at you.  I am the
envy of the village because you belong to me--I want them all 
to see how beautiful my husband is, and how desirable.  And 
how *obedient*," she stressed, shoving the boots at him.

Swallowing hard at the look in her eye, Fox accepted the 
boots, sitting reluctantly in a chair to slip them on.

"It's bad enough I have to wear pants so tight I can barely
breathe," he grumbled.  "And this shirt is cut so low it
leaves nothing to the imagination.  I feel like a whore."

He stopped when he felt her presence beside him, felt his
breathing suddenly become labored.  He kept his eyes down,
working more quickly at donning the boots.

"You are not a whore, you are Lord Scully the Younger, and
everyone in the region knows you have had an excellent
upbringing.  There is nothing about your clothing that is
inappropriate, Fox.  It is common for a married man to
wear clothing that is more revealing, and pleasing to his
Lady.  You will dress as I command," she  stated calmly.  
"You belong to me, and you will obey me.  If I hear one word 
of complaint out of your pretty lips tonight, I'll turn you 
over my knee and give the guests a show you'll never forget."

He felt his face pale at her words.  "You--you wouldn't
really--would you?" he gasped, and she smiled.

"Don't tempt me.  I've put up with your temper and your
insolence for a week of marriage, and as I recall, you
have not yet completed an entire day without having your
pretty backside punished.  I'm quite sure other husbands
don't give their wives this much trouble.  I doubt very much
if Walter gives Mother such difficulty."

Fox made a 'hmph' sound behind her back as he tugged on the
boots.  Walter had been punished just the day before, and
Dana well knew it.  Lady Maggie, who was a doctor of some
renown in the land, had come home from visiting a patient to
find her husband preparing to go riding alone.  

Both Walter and Fox knew it wasn't safe for a man to be away 
from his home without his wife or some other female escort, 
and just as at the Mulder estate, riding out alone was
forbidden, but Walter had apparently been sneaking off on his
own quite often, of late.  He'd told Fox he just enjoyed the 
time for quiet reflection, but after having been locked, naked, 
in the stocks for the afternoon and receiving twenty lashes 
from Lady Maggie's switch, Fox thought it too high a price to 
pay for reflection. Fox had received ten lashes from Lady Dana
for his complicity in the matter, but had been grateful that
he hadn't been required to spend the rest of the day on
display for all the servant girls who chanced to happen by.  He
shuddered at the memory of what poor Walter had been forced to
endure.

The female servants always seemed to know when a man was being 
punished in the stocks behind the mansion, and managed to find 
many reasons to visit--some of them were even bold enough to
stroke their hands over the punished flesh of the unfortunate 
man, and Fox had shivered when he saw one particularly nervy 
maid grope poor Walter all over before Lady Maggie had 
laughingly ordered her to move along.

When Lady Maggie had finally released her husband and led
him, thoroughly chastened, into their bed chamber, Fox knew
Walter's days of "quiet reflection" were at an end.

He stood up, wobbling a bit in the boots before he regained 
his balance, and waited while Dana examined him critically.  
He towered above her, and she looked him up and down
with a gleam in her eyes.  Fox sighed, reasonably certain 
his clothing wasn't going to survive the night--the minute
Dana got him to their chamber after the party, she was bound
to rip his garments right off him.  She seemed to enjoy
doing that.  He had gone through at least four shirts since
becoming her husband, and had only managed to save his best
pair of breeches by disrobing more quickly than she could
strip him.

"You will deplete your fortune paying for my replacement
clothing," he had teased, and she'd laughed happily.

"Perhaps I won't replace it at all," she had returned, a
wicked sparkle in her eye.  "Perhaps I prefer you unclothed."

His face had lost its mirth then, for he was assailed with a
vision of poor Isaac, Lady Fowley's servant who had been 
stripped and chained, left to die in the rain.  Dana thinking
he had been embarrassed by her playful comment, had merely
changed the subject, and Fox had quickly put Isaac out of his
mind.  The man was safe now.

"You look beautiful, Fox," Dana said approvingly, giving him
a final inspection.  "Now remember, you know most of these 
people, but don't let the strangers intimidate you.  I know
you are shy, but all you have to do is smile and look nice, and 
you do that very well.  I will take care of the conversation."

He graced her with a curve of his pretty lips at the compliment, 
accompanied by one of his attractive blushes, and she grinned.  
He was so timid, her Fox.  She smacked him playfully on his 
tightly clad behind.  "Let's go, Sweetheart."

They entered the ballroom a short time later, and Fox was
relieved to see Lord Walter already in attendance.  He felt
as if the older man was a kindred spirit--they were both
newly married, even if Walter had been married before, and
both were Scully husbands; the Scully women had a reputation
for fiery tempers that was more than justified.

"Hello, Fox," Walter greeted him when they approached.  "Lady 
Dana," he bowed politely.

"Walter, what is the matter with you?" Fox asked curiously,
noting the way the elder Lord Scully's face was flushed and
he seemed to be squirming in his breeches.  He was perversely 
happy to see the other man wearing boots as uncomfortable as 
his own.

Walter's face flushed even more, and Lady Maggie laughed.
"My disobedient little husband had a taste of my hairbrush
before he dressed for the party, Fox," she informed the
group, and Fox winced as he heard a servant giggle as she
passed by.  He hated the way everyone in the house was privy
every time he or Walter received a punishment.

Walter gasped as Maggie rubbed his backside, the wool pants
rough on his already sore skin.  He had made the mistake of
arguing with her over the boots, pitching them across the
room and flatly refusing to wear them.

"I'm tall enough," he had declared, and seconds later found
himself face down on the bed, his breeches being yanked down
to encircle his knees.

"All husbands are the same height when lying on a bed about 
to be punished," Lady Maggie had declared, swiftly grabbing
up her wooden hairbrush.  "And you, my dear, seem to be
particularly slow to learn that I will not be crossed!"

"Ow!" he yelled, instinctively grabbing for the brass rails
of their bed.  "Maggie, please!  I didn't mean it!"

"You will address me as 'my lady' when you are being 
punished," she informed him.

"Yes, my lady!"  He clutched the brass tightly, refusing to
allow his hands to drift down to cover his bottom.  He had
made that error several times when they had first been 
married, and soon found that it only gained him a more
severe spanking, accompanied by an evening spent with his
hands tied to the bed.

After several more hard smacks, observing the bright red
color that his bottom had taken on, Maggie stopped.

Walter breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she had not
kept on until he was crying--he didn't want to greet their
party guests with a tell-tale red face and damp eyes.  It 
would simply be too humiliating.

"Now, finish getting dressed," Maggie had ordered, and Walter
had meekly obeyed. 

"Please, Maggie," he whispered now, wincing as her hand 
tortured his sore backside, and she smiled indulgently.

"Dana, our guests are beginning to arrive.  Fox,
Walter...all you two have to do is stand around and look
pretty."  Maggie started for the front entrance, fully
expecting her family to follow, and they did, her daughter
striding along with confident steps and the two men bringing
up the rear more carefully.

"I see you had to wear the boots, too," Fox whispered, and
Walter nodded miserably.

"I hate them.  "I'm always afraid I'm going to fall and break 
my neck, but Maggie insisted."

Fox smirked.  "Is that why she warmed your backside?" he
grinned, and Walter answered him with a scowl.

Suddenly, Fox froze in his tracks, his face a mask of 
sheer terror.  Walter followed his gaze and was shocked and 
annoyed to see Lady Diana Fowley entering the great hall.  He
hadn't realized that Lady had been invited to the party.

Fox felt a comforting squeeze on his hand and looked down to
see his wife giving him a reassuring nod.

"Why did you invite her?" he hissed into her ear, and gulped
when he saw Dana's face darken momentarily.

"I had to, in order to be polite," she informed him.  "You
have nothing to fear from her as long as you stay by my
side.  I'll protect you.  You will not question my judgement,
Fox."

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, chastened, and privately resolved 
to stick by Dana's side like glue all night long.  He didn't 
want Lady Diana to have any chance to get near him--she'd 
proven herself completely unscrupulous in the past, and now 
that Fox was no longer a virgin, he wouldn't put it past her to
go as far as rape, if she got the chance.

"Ah, here's the newest Lord Scully." Diana's voice was low
and sultry as she moved down the receiving line, and Fox kept 
his face carefully neutral when she reached up to touch his 
cheek and then trailed her fingers down the open neck of his 
shirt.  His face flamed when he realized the shirt was cut 
almost to his navel--he felt practically naked, and his skin 
crawled under Diana's touch.

"Congratulations, Dana dear," Diana purred.  "He *is* lovely.  
You did quite well for yourself."

"Thank you, Diana," Lady Dana replied drily.  "Perhaps you 
should take a husband of your own.  Then perhaps you would
find yourself less inclined to touch another Lady's property."

Diana ignored Dana's jibe.  She looked Fox up and down 
deliberately, smiling when his flush deepened.  "How fortunate 
for you to have captured such a beautiful, passionate creature.  
I do envy you, Dana."

At last she moved on, and Fox wilted visibly.  Dana took his
trembling hand in hers and made him look her in the eyes.

"She won't touch you again, I promise.  I shouldn't have let
her take such liberties with you, but I didn't want to cause
a scene, and after all, she didn't hurt you."

"I feel like the loosest of men, trussed up in these clothes
and paraded in front of everyone like this," he whispered,
near tears.  "Can't you tell everyone I don't feel well, or
something?  I hate social occasions anyway, and now I feel
filthy!  Please, Dana, can't I just--"

Dana gave him a warning glance and turned to greet the next
of their guests, but Fox was not mollified.  He stood
silently beside her while the rest of the guests arrived,
speaking only when directly addressed, and then answering in
short, surly responses.  He could feel the anger coming off
his wife in waves, but was too far gone in his own
discomfort to care.  After all, she'd only been joking about
spanking him in front of everyone, hadn't she?

When the last of the guests had appeared to arrive, and the
big front doors were swung closed, Dana turned to Fox with
blood in her eye.

"Come with me," she commanded coldly, and turned to stalk
toward the library.

He stared after her for a few seconds, frozen in place,
until Lady Maggie gave him a gentle shove.

"You'd better do as she says, Fox," she warned him.  "My
daughter is not to be trifled with.  I'm surprised you
haven't learned that yet."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, quickly making his way toward the
door through which his wife had disappeared.

He entered the library, his heart in his throat, and looked 
around warily for his wife, then jumped when the heavy door 
slammed shut behind him.  He turned just in time to see her 
twisting the key in the lock, and swallowed hard.  She appeared
prepared to kill.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he began contritely, but she interrupted
him.

"Save your abject apologies, Fox.  I am not interested in
your excuses for treating our guests so rudely.  Get over 
here."  Dana sat down on a massive sofa and patted her knees.  
"I warned you this was going to happen if you didn't mend your
attitude."

"But Dana...we have guests out there..." he whispered,
gesturing toward the door in horror.

"Exactly," she agreed.  "And if you don't want them to get
an eyeful while you get your bottom blistered, you'd better
get over here.  Now!"

He scurried to her side at the rough command, and closed his
eyes helplessly while she unfastened his breeches and
lowered them.  She pulled him down over her knees and he
braced himself against the floor.

Dana rubbed her hand appreciatively over his smooth
buttocks, then raised it above her head and brought it down
sharply right in the middle.

Fox bit his lip to keep from crying out, mindful of the
party going on in the next room.  He kicked and squirmed
over the lap beneath him, but knew better than to try and
escape his punishment--that would only lead to something
worse, and he had no desire to further enrage his wife.

Finally, when silent tears were rolling down his face and he
sagged bonelessly against her, Dana took pity on Fox and
relented.  She pulled him against her for a comforting
hug and kiss, and then helped him to stand.

"Adjust your clothing and meet me in the great hall,"
she instructed, dropping another kiss on his deliciously
bared chest.  "And don't keep me waiting, Fox," she
warned.

"No, ma'am," he promised instantly.  "I'll be right there."
He swiped at the tear marks on his face for a minute, and 
finally gave up.  Everyone would know what had just happened 
to him anyway, there was no point in trying to hide it.

Fox gasped in pain when the wool breeches scraped across his
reddened behind, and he surveyed his erect sex with a
humiliated glare.  Everyone would be able to see that, too,
with the tight pants he was wearing.  Nothing at all would
be left to the imagination, he realized shamefully.

Finally, stifling a heavy sigh, he started for the door.  With
every step the wool of his breeches rubbed his bottom 
uncomfortably, and he knew he was going to be reminded of this 
spanking for the rest of the night.

He was just about to emerge into the party when the door was
thrown open unexpectedly.  To his horror, he saw Lady Diana
Fowley standing in the doorway, eyeing him hungrily.

"Well what have we here?" she said with a wicked grin.  "A
Fox in a cage, with no one around to protect him."

Fox swallowed hard and took a step backward.  Diana shut the
door behind her and locked it, slipping the key into her
pocket.

"Lady Fowley, I need to get back to the party," he said,
trying hard to keep his voice from quavering.  He feared
Diana, and had always known she was an unscrupulous sort.
"My lady is waiting for me."

"Not just yet," she smirked, taking a threatening step
toward him.  "You and I have a little business to finish
first.  You see, when my servants captured you last week,
they were supposed to bring you straight to me.  I know you,
Fox, I knew you would try to run, and I knew you'd go to
your cousin Jake's estate--knew you'd run right into my
arms, so to speak.  If my servants had obeyed me, you'd be
my husband now, not Dana's.  They've been suitably punished,
and now I intend to have my turn with you; your pretty flesh
will be mine before I'm done. All of it."

"Lady Fowley, please," Fox began, backing up as far as he
could and feeling pure fear invade him when his back hit the
wall.  There was nowhere else to go, and Lady Diana was
advancing quickly.

Diana gave another evil smile, and pulled a small whip from
her pocket, uncoiling it as she approached him.

-----

In the great hall, Walter watched curiously as Lady Diana
entered the library from which Dana had recently emerged.
Fox was still inside.

"My lady--" he began, turning to Maggie, but stopped when
he realized she was deeply in conversation with Dana and
another doctor from the next village over.  The three women
were discussing the merits of performing certain types of
surgery, and Walter didn't like to interrupt.

"Lady Maggie," he whispered, touching her arm to gain her
attention, but she merely gave him a sidelong look and he
clamped his mouth shut.  Maggie didn't like to be disturbed
while conversing with other women, certainly not with the
affairs of a simple male.

Desperately, he glanced toward the library door again.  It had
not opened.  He crossed the few steps toward the door and
quietly turned the knob, confirming his fears--Lady Diana had
locked herself inside with poor Fox.  He stood in agonized
indecision for a few moments, then made a hasty choice.  He
couldn't disturb Lady Maggie, but he simply could not bring
himself to leave Fox at Lady Fowley's mercy--the woman would
tear that poor, innocent boy to pieces.

He crept up beside his wife, trying once more and failing to
gain her attention.  At least, not knowing what else to do,
Walter unobtrusively slipped his hand into the pocket of
Lady Maggie's suit, feeling relief when his fingers closed
over the skeleton key he knew she carried.  This key would
open any door on the estate, and it never left Maggie's
possession.  Just as carefully, he removed his hand, bringing
the key with it, and started back toward the library, unnoticed
by the ladies.

-----

"You're very insolent, Fox," Lady Fowley commented, flicking 
the whip through the air and watching with satisfaction as he
cringed.  "Insolent boys deserve to be punished.  If you
were my husband, I'd keep you naked and chained to my bed."

Fox winced again at the memory of Isaac, and wondered briefly
if that poor man had been forced to share Lady Diana's bed
before he had fallen out of favor.

"A man's only function is to provide his wife pleasure, and
to give her daughters," Diana continued.  "Lady Dana gives you 
far too much liberty."

"I--I--" Fox was so terrified, and so focused on the whip,
that he didn't see Walter sneaking up behind Diana, a heavy
vase clutched in his hands, until Walter brought the vase
down with all his force on Diana's head.

Lady Fowley crumpled to the ground, an expression of
surprise still on her face, and Walter grabbed his almost
incoherent son-in-law.

"Let's go before they find us!" he hissed, jerking Fox away
from the wall and dragging him toward the door.

"But--what--how did you get in here?" Fox demanded, stepping 
over Diana carefully, half afraid she would wake up and grab 
him.  "The door was locked!"

"Lady Maggie has a skeleton key," Walter explained quickly.
"I slipped it from her pocket when she was preoccupied.  If
we're lucky, I can return it before she notices."

Their hopes of a speedy escape were dashed when the door, which 
had been partially closed after Walter entered, swung suddenly 
open. The party noises had gone completely silent, and every 
guest in the house had his or her eyes squarely on the two 
Lord Scullys.  Walter and Fox had eyes only for their 
mistresses, who stood before them wearing identical expressions 
of fury.

"Looks like your luck has run out, boys," commented Maggie
Scully, lightly slapping at her thigh with a riding crop.

Fox noted with distress that Dana held the same crop she'd
whipped him with on their wedding night.

"Please--we can explain," Walter began, but stopped when his
wife gave him a withering look.

"I've had just about enough of your explanations, Walter,"
she informed him coldly.  "I think an evening in the stocks
might be just what the two of you need."

-----