Chapter 2

Ewan strode down the front of the sewing room where all the mill girls had been lined up per his instructions to Bob Brighton. Brighton was the younger of his two foremen and the one Ewan preferred dealing with; he found Weiler shifty. There was something he didn’t trust about him. Thankfully he was absent at the moment.

As he walked, he took in each girl. Some stood together, giggling nervously and picking lint and thread from their hair and clothes, but most of them looked down, studying the floor. Their frocks were mostly grey or brown, buttoned high around their necks and fell, wrinkled and shapeless, over their underskirts to mid calf. All wore their hair pulled tightly back, presumably to allow them to work unfettered. They were a pale, dusty bunch and none inspired even the smallest spark in Ewan. He remembered James’s advice, that he needn’t heed his wedding vows but only take a wife to become the family man that Boston society apparently needed him to be. But if he was to father a child it would be necessary to bed the woman who was to become his bride at least sporadically, and he couldn’t imagine his staff rising to the occasion with any of the dismal creatures he had before him.

Suddenly, in the unusual quiet of the sewing room, he heard a muffled cry and a scraping of chair legs from the back office.

‘What’s going on back there?’ Ewan demanded of his foreman as he headed to the back to check on the noise himself.

‘Sir! Don’t go back there, sir!’ With his long strides, Ewan was already half way to the back and his foreman couldn’t keep up. ‘Weiler’s reprimanding an employee, sir,’ Bob yelled after him in vain. ‘You needn’t concern yourself!’

When Ewan threw open the door to the foreman’s back office he could barely believe what he saw. Weiler had one of the younger mill girls, his newest if he remembered correctly, gagged with a piece of cotton tied around her mouth and another around her wrists. Her frock was torn, leaving the white corset she wore underneath exposed. He had her pushed against the desk, the only furniture in the small room besides the chair. She was bent over it with her pelvis pressed to the edge, trying to support her upper body on the desk with her bound hands. Weiler had her under skirts pulled up and Ewan caught him furiously yanking at his half hard meat when he opened the door.

‘Weiler, what the hell is going on in here!’ he bellowed. From behind him he heard gasping and whispering from the rest of his staff. ‘Brighton, get those girls back to work,’ he yelled out into the work area and slammed the office door shut, leaving him alone with Weiler and the distraught girl.

‘Sir! I - I can explain,’ Weiler stammered, pulling his prick back into his trousers. ‘This one was using the machine improperly, sir, she – I was reprimanding her, sir.’

‘This is reprimanding, is it?’ Ewan stared at the girl. Her hair had come loose and tumbled in chocolate waves down her exposed back. Her skin was a deep olive shade, unlike the pale skin of the other girls. Tears welled in her dark, almond shaped eyes as she looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. In that moment, Ewan experienced a feeling he had never encountered, a connection that went straight to the core of his being. Something about the maiden’s pleading face, her beauty and vulnerability, triggered a chord deep within him. ‘The “improper” use of equipment? What sort of use could warrant this?’

‘Yes, let me explain, Mr. Draper,’ Weiler began. ‘I know her type, sir. What she was doing, sir, well you see, she’s a wanton slut, she needed …’ At these words Ewan took a step and backhanded Weiler across his face.

‘How dare you claim to know such things?!’ he roared. Grabbing Weiler by the scruff of the neck he muttered, ‘I should have done this ages ago.’ Then loudly, ‘You’re fired! Now get out!’ Ewan opened the door and shoved Weiler out of the office so forcefully he tripped and fell, sprawling across the floor. ‘Brighton! Get him outta here,’ he yelled before he slammed the door again.

Alone in the room now with the poor girl, Ewan approached her, untied the cloth around her mouth and asked, somewhat awkwardly, her name.

‘Lillianne, sir,’ she whispered quietly. ‘Lillianne Saunders.’

Next Ewan untied the cloth around her wrists. But even after they were untied he remained close to her still holding her wrists, gently massaging the reddened areas where the cloth had pressed into her flesh. He gazed down into her face. It was more than the loosened hair and exposed skin that separated her from the other mill girls. Somehow she glowed. Her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the exertion, the terror she had just experienced at almost being assaulted by the vile Weiler. But it seemed to Ewan that it was more than that. She radiated with a kind of intensity that barely registered with Ewan’s brain, but of which his body was acutely aware. He realized then that his cock was stiff and had been since he laid eyes on her, bound and partially exposed.

‘Lillianne,’ he murmured, as if in a trance, pulling her close, feeling her soft warmth through her disheveled clothing, against his hardness.

Lilly could barely breathe, her mind whirling, as Mr. Draper, his muscled arms enveloping her body, leaned down to kiss her. So much was happening so fast. Ewan Draper coming to the mill, Mr. Weiler catching her, what he had almost done to her! But now, with Mr. Draper’s lips upon hers, his hands roaming over her just as she’d been imagining, her mind forgot all of that as her body responded to those hands.

In fact, it seemed her body picked up right from where it had been left by her machine, pulsing, writhing, hanging on that edge and cut off from reaching its climax. Her undergarments were still soaked from those earlier exertions and only were becoming wetter as she felt Ewan Draper’s manhood pressed firmly against the top of her mound.

Being a farm girl Lilly was not ignorant of the couplings of animals and people. There had even been a few romps in the hay with a neighbour boy. But never had she felt desire like this, never this throbbing between her thighs, never the intensity of this want, this need. She marveled at the hardness of him that she could feel against her and then every other thought was obliterated by the image of him driving that pulsing shaft into her, filling that throbbing emptiness with every inch that it desperately needed. As she imagined it she felt a tear of moisture slip down between her thighs.

Mr. Draper broke their kiss then. He took her face in both his hands and in a gravelly voice whispered, ‘Lillianne, you’ve intoxicated me. I want you to become my bride. Please say you will.’ He kissed her again then, moving his hands to caress her breasts, pulling them from her bodice and pinching her already erect nipples. Lilly started and nearly climaxed right then. More moisture seeped from between her legs.

‘Oh yes, sir, please,’ she gasped. ‘I mean, I will, I want,’ but she couldn’t speak anymore. She was leaning with the top of her buttocks against the desk when Ewan Draper pulled his enormous cock out of his trousers, parted her legs and thrust it up inside her. She felt the enormity of it stretch her, almost impossibly so, but she was so wet she took all of him and could feel the end of it slam against her insides. Blissfully, all of the nerve endings in that bud of flesh that had sought out the vibrations of her sewing machine, were pushed firmly against his body, at the base of his shaft. All of her pent up tension and desire rushed to that spot as she threw her arms around his neck, one leg around his bottom and ground her body into him as she felt the dam finally break.

All Lilly could do was hold on to Ewan Draper as her body convulsed, hold on and revel in the bliss of finally being brought over the edge. The flood of sensation was amazing and her pelvic muscles contracted gratefully around his cock in a flood of orgasmic release. ‘My – God,’ Lilly heard her boss sputter, as he emptied his seed inside of her.