Feature Writer: Renpet / [email protected]
Feature Title: Lord Horby
Published: 12.09.2012 / ASSTR / Renpeter Erotic Stories
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: A Lord of the Realm, dissatisfied with his wife, finds pleasure in young girls.
Lord Horby
He looked down the long formal cherry-wood dining table at Lady Abigail, his wife, frowning at how dumpy and domestic she’d become. He’d had such high expectations when they’d married and she’d managed to disappoint him on every one.
Gas lights in sconces, the latest advancement in modern comforts, cast a flickering yellowish glow in the dark dining room, a glow that barely beat back the darkness outside. Rain drummed on the lead-paned windows adding a depressing gloom to the evening. English winter was pressing its damp bone-chilling cold at the mansion, seeking and finding entrance through the old stonework and aged grout.
He was fed up. Even the elegance of silverware and fine bone china that spoke to wealth and social standing did nothing to lift his spirits.
Yellowish flames on the long tapered candles in silver candelabras flickered in the centre of the table as the service door whispered open, casting playful shadows that chased across the mirror-like waxed surface of the table. James, the tall, snobbish head butler and valet, walked through holding a covered sterling silver platter followed by a young parlour maid, her white cloth cap not quite able to contain lustrous dark brown curls.
“What’s Cook prepared tonight, James?”
“Leg of lamb, your Lordship.”
“Very well.”
As the soup bowl was removed from in front of him, he noticed how dainty the parlour maid’s hands and wrists were. He glanced at her face. She was a slight girl, young with a pretty countenance, down-cast brown eyes accented by thick eyebrows, long lashes, a delicate nose and shapely mouth.
James placed a china plate in front of him; the aroma of rosemary roasted lamb and roasted potatoes scenting the air.
“The Mitchell’s have asked us to call on them tomorrow,” Lady Abigail said timidly. “I’ve accepted on our behalf. Four o’clock. Is that acceptable?”
He felt a momentary spike of annoyance. Why couldn’t she be assertive? Why was she incapable of taking charge? Her doe eyes infuriated him. “That’s fine Abigail.”
Thank goodness Daphne and Chelsea took after him. At least his daughters showed some wilfulness of character.
The clink of silverware tapping against fine bone china as supper was consumed was the only sound breaking the silence. Supper was conducted with formality, in a stilted silence, servants hovering nearby.
“I’ll take some coffee and cognac in the smoking room, James. My compliments to Cook. Abigail, join me,” he ordered as the dinner plates were cleared. Without waiting he rose and strode out of the dining room, expecting Abigail to follow him.
Sitting in front of the roaring fire he looked across to his wife. “Abigail, you have to be stricter with the staff. I caught two of them standing around and gabbing. They should be attending to their duties. If they have time to chat, clearly you are not assigning them sufficiently taxing work duties.”
“Of course, Charles. I’ll see to it.”
“Please do. Now tell me, who was that parlour maid? I do not recollect seeing her before.”
“She is new. The orphanage sent her over.”
“Hmm. How old?”
“I believe she is thirteen.”
“What’s her name?”
“Victoria.”
Lighting a thick cigar, clouds billowing as he puffed, he studied Lady Abigail, another wave of annoyance passing through him. He switched subjects suddenly. “Abigail, it has become clear to me that I harbour no attraction or desire for you,” he said looking at her dumpy body. “I do not want marital relations with you. You have let yourself go rather sadly I’m afraid; quite unfitting for the wife of a Lord of the Realm.”
He continued before Lady Abigail could answer. “It is also true that you do not enjoy carnal relations with me despite my being your husband. You have made it abundantly clear in your behaviour that you find it distasteful. I find myself in a quandary. As you well understand, divorce is not an appropriate solution. It would leave you destitute and shunned by the very society you seek approval from, and most importantly, it would be unseemly for me, a Lord of the Realm.
“Are you in accord, Abigail?”
“Yes Charles,” she answered timidly.
“Good. Given this set of unfortunate circumstances, an equitable solution must be found. I cannot be expected to forgo my carnal needs simply because of your shortcomings. As a Lord, I cannot frequent establishments that might satiate my needs, and being a prominent member of the House, a courtesan is out of the question.
“Therefore, you will find me appropriate, discreet companionship. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Charles.”
“Now, my needs are simple. I will not risk disease. Therefore you will find me unsullied females, those that have no carnal experience. Virgins, Abigail.
“In addition, I find your unfortunate lapse in maintaining an attractive appeal for your husband has quite put me off ladies of your type. Therefore, you will provide me with the companionship of young ladies. I would prefer them to be thirteen years old or younger.
“Do not consider any young lady older than fourteen. You shall tell them they are to have carnal relations with me in any way I see fit and, if they do, they will be paid two Guineas. They must be willing Abigail. I will not force myself on any lady. I’ve had enough of that with you.”
Lord Holby paused, waiting for his wife to object, as any normal wife should. When she didn’t, he frowned and continued.
“Now, my duties in the House of Lords and those of our estate in Oxford occupy most of my time. However, I will endeavour to be available every Saturday night. So please make arrangements with that in mind.” He looked at her doe-eyed expression and disgust filled him. “Do you understand Abigail or shall I have to repeat myself? Well? Speak up.”
“I. . . I don’t know how. Where would I find these young ladies?”
“I suggest you look for homeless waifs. Perhaps you could visit an orphanage or two. Just make sure they have a pleasing countenance.
“Very well, your Lordship.”
“Well, you look tired, Abigail. Perhaps you should retire. We will be calling on the Mitchell’s tomorrow after all and I know how social duties strain you.”
He watched her dumpy back as she headed for the door, the latest fashion, full skirt, petticoats, ruffles, lace, and skirt hoops made her look like a waddling duck he thought.
“Oh, and Abigail?” he called after her.
She turned at the door.
“Send Victoria to my room tonight.” He saw her eyes narrow and wondered if she’d argue, complain or express any emotion. It would be a relief if she did so. But no, she turned and closed the door quietly behind her. He felt disappointment and regret return.
He wondered if he could get rid of Abigail. Divorce was out of the question given his stature in society. But were there other ways? She was becoming more bovine every day despite his pushing for her to develop a personality, some spirit and fortitude. What had happened? She’d been lively enough when he’d courted her at sixteen, and definitely comely. She was from a well respected family in Manchester, a long line of commercial bankers.
But when he’d bedded her she’d been less responsive then a dead fish from the market, laying beneath him, inert. It seemed that he’d been fooled by her; she was after status and security only. He found when he’d go to her chambers at night he’d been increasingly demanding, infuriated by her lack of response and her stoic, unenthusiastic acceptance of his amorous attentions.
It upset him so much that he’d performed increasingly degrading acts; pulling her from her bed and bending her over, pushing up her voluminous nightdress and pulling her bloomers down, thrusting into her dry vagina with no pleasantries, no foreplay. Her pain degraded him, making him feel uncouth and ungentlemanly, and that only made him angrier. He’d grabbed her long blond locks and yanked back, shoving violently into her, using her as a receptacle for his seed.
He frowned remembering trying to be seductive and loving with her, just to have her turn her face away from him, her expression one of forbearance. He’d taken her in her rectum which was just as moist as her vagina. Her expression of disgust angered him. It was her fault for being so cold and unfeeling. Seeing her indifference he had forced her to her knees, pushing his erection to her red lips. When she didn’t cooperate he’d held her head and thrust his phallus at her ordering her to open her mouth.
He’d been so incensed when she spit out his seed he’d taken her over his knees and spanked her bare bottom until she was sobbing, then excited again, threw her on the bed and spread her thick thighs, pushing her knees up to her shoulders and used her, riding her hard. The occasional sexual contact with Abigail had produced two beautiful daughters and no satisfaction. Congress with his wife did no more than relieve stress and leave him feeling cheated.
Well, he’d had enough. He’d worry about how to rid himself of her later. Right now he felt tumescence at the thought of Victoria, just two years older than Daphne, his eldest daughter. Perhaps she’d be responsive and, since he was the Lord, it was his right to demand favours of the staff, he thought.
With mounting excitement he tossed his cigar into the fireplace, drained the crystal glass of cognac, and headed upstairs.
“Enter,” he said at the sound of a soft knock at his bedroom door.
The door opened and Victoria entered, her face cast down. He admired her small form; even her maid’s uniform could not add a sensual flare to her hips. Her youth, slenderness and immaturity excited him.
“Come child.”
She closed the door and stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped together chastely in front of her starched white apron and black smock.
“Did the mistress inform you why you are here?”
“Yes, your Lordship,” she said in a light, hesitant voice.
“That’s fine. Would you please take off your clothes? I would like to admire your body. It appears to be quite lovely, Victoria,” he said.
She smiled shyly as she reached up to unpin her cap. Dark brown curls tumbled down over her slim shoulders and framed her face.
“Lovely, quite lovely,” Lord Holby commented. “Pray continue, Victoria.”
It took Victoria a while to unhook all the buttons of her uniform. Nervousness made her fumble frequently before the dress fell in a quiet swoosh to her feet revealing a white chemise and chaste bloomers, little frills at the knees tied with thin red ribbons.
Lord Holby felt his tumescence strengthen at the sight. She appeared even smaller without the maid’s uniform on, more delicate. His eyes were carefully inspecting the slit at the crotch of her bloomers, the one designed to allow females to use the water closet without completely undressing. Despite the flicker of flames in the hearth, darkness in the room teasingly hid any sight of her pudendum.
“Continue,” he urged.
She pulled her chemise over her head, dark brown curls tumbling, her arm covering her chest to protect her modesty. Lord Holby found it attractive; a gentle tease that increased his arousal.
“Continue child.” When she made to turn away he stopped her. “No. Please face me. I wish to see all of you.”
A rosy blush spread on her cheeks as her arm fell. She had pretty little breasts, newly formed, small and delicate with roseate areolae. They rode high on her small chest, seductively shaped, nipples slightly divergent. A very small handful, he thought. They looked remarkably firm and their pubescent youthfulness excited him; so much more attractive than the teats on his wife.
“Very nice child. Now the bloomers if you’d please.”
As she bent forward to undo the ribbons at her knees, her little breasts became enticingly conical, pointing to the floor. Lord Holby observed attentively, his penis beginning to engorge and erect, as she let her white cotton bloomers fall. She held her hands covering her pubis and stood upright, a rosy blush on her chest and breasts, her face turned to the floor. Her virginal shyness was exciting.
“Hands, Victoria. Please remove them and let me see your sex.”
Her blush intensified as she dropped her hands. Her pudendum was very lightly dusted with the first growth of pubic hairs, so sparse and silky he could see her cleft clearly, a tightly closed little line formed by plump labia.
“Lovely,” he murmured and his hand dropped to the outline of his erection inside his silk robe. “Turn slowly so I can see your bottom.”
Her compact bottom had just started to develop a sensual shape; soft curves accentuated the swell of sweet buttocks, her valley a dark alluring line bisecting them. She had a delightful gap at the top of slender thighs. Lord Holby was fully tumescent at the sight of the young virgin, more excited than he’d ever been with Abigail.
He rose from the bed, his robe tented out. “Come here Victoria. Please take my robe off.”
She shuffled towards him, head bent. As she neared him Lord Holby reached out and with his finger and lifted her chin. “It would please me if you looked at me. Are you scared child?”
She nodded. Brown eyes reflected her concern and discomfort.
“I will be gentle. There’s nothing to fear. I will also give you two Guineas if you are a good girl.”
Victoria smiled for the first time. Two Guineas was more than she’d make in three years, maybe four. She reached for the knotted cord at his waist, her eyes studying the large protrusion underneath the robe. She knew men had phalluses, all the maids giggled about them, but had never seen one. Her hands trembled.
Lord Holby watched the surprise on her pretty face when his robe fell open, his erection revealed, large, upright and rigid, veins starkly raised on the thick shaft. Victoria froze, eyes locked on it.
“This will give you much pleasure, I promise.” He noted her look of scepticism but it had taken enough time to this point. He needed release, to spill his seed and find the glow of satisfaction that relaxed him. It had been too long since the last time.
“The first time is always uncomfortable, Victoria. You will stay with me tonight. I promise you will feel wonderful before you leave in the morning.” He took her hand and led the naked girl to the large four-poster bed, bending her over and letting her upper body rest on the heavy brocade bedcover. Her sweet bottom flared and rounded as she bent, her pubis appearing between her thighs, cleft tightly sealed, uncurled pubic hairs sparse on plump labia.
Urging her feet apart, her buttocks separated and exposed her small, tightly closed anus. Below, her labia parted slightly, the dimple of her vagina appearing. He liked standing behind the child. She looked slender and petite, her back curving and flaring around her lovely little bottom. He admired his erection, feeling how excited he was, so much more excited than he’d ever been with Abigail.
Holding his shaft, he moved forward, lodging the large inflamed crown of his phallus at the dimple to her vagina, just below her perineum. Satisfied with the position and confident in its rigid strength, he caressed Victoria’s small buttocks, his hands exploring the sensual oval shapes, tracing them down to young, firm thighs. His fingertips caressed her lightly haired cleft briefly, touching her prepuce, the cowl that protected her clitoris, before he held her small waist.
“The first time always hurts my child. Bear up now. Remember, two Guineas if you’re good,” he said softly. He did not want to hurt the child, but his needs were urgent and came first.
Holding her firmly, he pushed his erection forward slowly, carefully, feeling her vaginal resistance. She clenched her small buttocks. Bending over her he whispered, “Relax Victoria, it will make it easier.” He was excited at penetrating such a young child for the first time. Her buttocks unclenched.
Lord Holby pushed again slowly, observing the tip of his erection flatten and deform from strain. With steady, firm pressure, assisted by the slippery liquid he was leaking, her labia reluctantly ceded to him, spreading and stretching as his crown slipped in, blood oozing out as her virgin barrier lost its battle to protect her innocence. Beads of sweat dampened his brow as the crown slipped into her sex, her moan of pain as she lost her innocence adding to the excitement of intercourse with a child; so much better than the wail the same act had elicited from Abigail.
With relentless persistence and small gentle thrusts his rigid phallus delved deeper into her, parting her tight channel until he reached her end. She was tight and warm on him, a velvet sheath holding his erection. Less than an inch remained unsheathed. He pulled back and thrust in slow strokes, pressing deeper with each thrust until her tight vagina accommodated his entire length. Victoria moaned in pain again as her small buttocks rested against his groin, sensually soft and petite.
“Well done child. The worst is over,” he told her softly, caressing her bottom, sides and back while firmly lodged in her. He calmed her like a filly, soothing sounds, soft caresses and gentle encouragement. Reassured she was calmer, he started stroking into her, admiring how her vaginal sheath would almost invert as he withdrew and her labia sink in when he thrust. Her alluring bottom looked sensual, buttocks spread by his erection. Her smallness made him feel larger, exciting him. Stroking rhythmically into her tight grasp he touched her anus. Her reaction was immediate, a pleasing clench of buttocks and a tightening on his erection.
Enjoying the experience, stroking into her velvety warmth, he pressed his fingertip into her tight anus. Victoria’s groan raised his excitement, her buttocks clenching hard. Lord Holby began thrusting forcefully as his release neared, using the full length of his erection. He waited until his release was almost upon him before pushing his finger into her rectum. The first blissful surge of seed charged towards him like the Light Brigade. She moaned delightfully, clenched her little buttocks hard, her tight vagina clamping on his pulsing erection. Ecstasy arrived. He thrust into her in short urgent strokes, spilling his seed with every deliciously pleasing thrust, stroking deep into her, wondering if she was fertile. With every strong pulse of semen, sexual satisfaction flowed through his body, flooding him in its delicious, welcome warmth.
As his climax peaked he collapsed onto the child’s back, his phallus pulsing gently with his fading orgasm. He was satisfied. Victoria had been much better than anything Abigail had ever provided.
“Well done, Victoria,” he said gently. “The next time you will experience pleasure, I promise you.”
Standing, he withdrew his flaccid phallus, satisfied when pink semen spilled from her reddened, stretched vagina.
“Clean yourself up over at the wash stand child, and then come join me in bed.”
He held the bedclothes open for her as she shyly climbed onto the bed. Pulling her close he bent to her, kissing her chastely on her small lips. “I am going to make you swoon in pleasure before morning child,” he promised.
Gazing on her pretty countenance and soft lovely eyes, Lord Holby thought she might make a useful insurance policy against Abigail disappointing him again, should she fail to find him carnal company. Realizing the benefit of having an attractive child in his household available to him, he decided to pleasure her, build a desire in her to be with him, a willing bed partner.
Rolling to his side, he gently caressed her small breasts, smiling softly. “Relax. I am going to give you pleasure. You were very good, Victoria.”
He caressed her firm small breasts, enjoying their youthful resilience, paying attention to her nipples which firmed under his attentions. Slipping his hand across her small stomach, he felt her pubis, the sparse hair soft and fine under his fingers. As he slipped his hand between her small thighs he saw her eyes open wider. Warm semen covered her plump labia and still leaked from her. He cupped her pudendum and used his middle finger to gently draw his slippery semen up through her small cleft, pausing at her prepuce.
Rubbing gently he leaned down and suckled a breast, caressing a hard nipple with his tongue. He heard her gasp quietly. Pleased, he continued to stimulate her prepuce, pressing slightly to find her clitoris hiding inside.
Her pelvis twitched as he found and rubbed the hard bead. Drawing more slippery warm semen up, he changed his attention to her other small breast and slowly brought her nearer to her climax, her little hips moving in rhythm with his caressing finger.
Victoria made cute quiet little grunts as she climaxed, small explosions of air through her nostrils, her pelvis twitching under his careful ministrations. Her body went rigid, small hands curling into fists at her sides, before collapsing, panting lightly, eyes closed with a rosy flush blossoming on her face.
He held her trembling body to him, relaxed and smiled to himself. She’d be cooperative, he thought as he covered them and drifted into a satisfied slumber.
Sounds from the street woke him; hooves tapping on the cobblestones, voices calling out loudly, merchants bringing their wares into the city. He was comfortably nestled to Victoria’s back, a small warm form in his arms. Holding her in his arms, an experience he’d never had with Abigail, his phallus erected, slipping up her legs. With a small adjustment, it slipped into her groin to nestle against her young pudendum. Gently he caressed her cheek.
“Victoria,” he called softly, “it’s time to wake up. Your Lord desires you again.”
Feeling her stir he caressed her still immature breast, her nipple responding, firming under his thumb. She pleased him when she pushed her sweet bottom back against him, another act he’d never experienced with Abigail; participation.
Reaching down with his other hand he started to caress her cleft, feeling for the bead of her clitoris. Victoria responded, beginning to move gently from the stimulation, her pelvis curling slowly, bottom pressing, and gradually her almost hairless labia became slippery with his emissions. They parted seductively to welcome his crown. Holding the child gently but firmly and moving quietly, the sound of breathing all that was audible, he slowly penetrated her, his erection burrowing into her tight, moist sheath, slipping deep until he reached her end. Penetration was sensually smooth and easy. Victoria still carried his seed from last night.
She moaned softly in his arms and clenched her buttocks, a highly erotic reaction. Holding her small body to him, caressing her clitoris and breast, Lord Holby started loving the child, withdrawing slowly and stroking into her delightfully tight young vagina. His strokes picked up speed, thrusting with increased vigour as excitement built, his release nearing. Letting her pudendum go, he reached around her slim waist pulling her petite body tightly to him, her sweet buttocks undulating against him. The feeling of holding this small child as he penetrated her was perfectly delightful, most exciting. His thrusting erection swelled and semen pulsed strongly into her young womb with a burst of pleasure, his orgasm erupting. Pulling back, he thrust into her tight sheath, spilling his seed, pleasure flooding his body. He stroked into his little lover, ejaculating with every thrust until he had no more seed to give and his body stilled in satisfied relief.
“You did well my child. Was it pleasurable for you this time?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said shyly.
He pulled out of her, a wet sound as he withdrew. Rolling her towards him he kissed her gently, giving her breast a soft caress. “You were very good Victoria. I find you most attractive. I would like it very much if we could do this again. Would you be willing?”
She smiled shyly and blushed at the thought she’d pleased him. “Yes, my Lord. That would please me.”
Lord Holby smiled with pleasure. “Good. We shall get you a pretty new dress, my dear.”
It had been a hard week in the House of Lords. Debate was rancorous and loud. Nothing had been resolved and he’d have to go back again after the weekend with little hope of a consensus. Riding in the back of the hansom, the hollow echoing clip-clop of the horses hoofs brought on a weariness, his eyelids drooping. He was tired and did not look forward to an evening with Abigail. Dense fog obscured the street. Even the dull yellow glow from gas lights lining the avenue couldn’t chase night away. Lord Holby felt depressed at the thought of the weekend ahead.
Then he remembered. Abigail was to provide him with a companion tomorrow. He felt tumescence return at the thought. Perhaps the weekend would not be as boring as he’d imagined. He yawned as the hansom pulled to a stop in front of his London mansion.
“Thank you, Stevens,” he said, stepping down.
“M’Lord,” Stevens responded with a tip of his cap.
Lord Hornby paused as he walked to the front steps, turning and calling out to Stevens before he could take the hansom around to the stables behind the mansion. “Oh, Stevens?”
“Yes, m’Lord?”
“How is the mare doing?”
“She’s fine sir. It was a piece of cobblestone wedged in her shoe.”
“Very good.”
James opened the door for Lord Holby and took his top hat, gloves, cane and overcoat.
“Is Lady Abigail present, James?”
“Yes your Lordship. In the drawing room I believe,” he said looking down his large thin nose. He hadn’t approved of Abigail, considering her unsuitable as a wife for a Lord. She was from Manchester after all.
Lord Holby walked into the drawing room, frowning at the sight of Abigail, rotund, made more so by her dress; excessive lace, frills and a rather large dress hoop. “Are the children still awake?” he asked without greetings.
“They are.”
“I shall look in on them. By the way, have you made arrangements for tomorrow night?”
“Yes, Charles,” she said not looking up from the needlepoint pattern.
He wondered what Abigail’s blush was for. Well, no mind. If she was ashamed of her duties, it was the price she paid for being frigid.
Abigail felt the heat in her cheeks and hoped her husband hadn’t noticed. She had found a homeless waif of about ten years old. With the promise of one Guinea and food, as she intended to keep the other Guinea for herself, the child willingly agreed to her conditions.
Bringing her home she’d instructed Mary, the housekeeper, to bathe the girl. Walking into the washroom, when she’d seen the small thin child standing in the bathing tub, she’d asked Mary to leave. Abigail had to confirm the child was in fact a virgin. Charles would not let her off lightly if the child wasn’t.
But her blush came from the sudden flush of arousal she’d felt as she gently slipped her finger between the child’s hairless labia. It was an arousal she only felt when she caressed herself, never with her husband. However, fingering the child’s small pubis and feeling the delicate entrance to her immature vagina, confirming the presence of her hymen, Abigail had become extremely aroused, her loins dampening with moisture. Guiltily she’d fondled the child, feeling her own nipples harden and ache inside her restricting corset.
Calling Mary back to attend to the child, she’d retired to her boudoir, sat on the divan, pulled her voluminous dress up and pleasured herself through the opening of her bloomers, flushing red as she climaxed.
Sitting in the drawing room lost in thought, Charles’s entrance had startled her. She’d been thinking of how she might entice the child into her bed after Charles was finished with her, a rather exciting, if surprising, thought.
Dinner was as uncomfortable as usual. Despite a flavourful steak and kidney pie prepared by Cook, a remarkably flaky pastry with rich gravy and tender meat, the dinner passed without a word spoken. The clink of silverware on china was the only sound, other than steady the hiss of the gas lamps.
Seeing Abigail consume a second helping of the pie, unnecessary given her stature, made Lord Holby angry. However, the meal did refresh and reinvigorate him. Victoria was particularly becoming as she served dinner. Her shy blush when she looked at him was very alluring.
Sitting in the smoking room, he instructed Abigail to have Victoria bathed and sent to his room later. Abigail, as usual, made no comment other than to agree. Entirely unsatisfactory, he thought yet again while lighting a pipe, smoke billowing.
Abigail led Victoria to the wash room.
“The Lord has requested your company again tonight,” she said as she helped undress Victoria, noting the slight blush in the child’s cheeks.
With Victoria naked, standing in the bathing tub, Abigail studied her, a slight girl on the cusp of womanhood. She felt her arousal stir as she admired Victoria’s small firm breasts and plump pudendum between slender legs, noting the allure of her sparse pubic hair.
Thinking of Charles having congress with this young child excited her, a warm flush of arousal dampening her bloomers. He was well endowed. She imagined he must have stretched the girl’s vagina painfully. Picturing her husband depositing his seed inside Victoria, Abigail let the washcloth drop and washed her with soapy hands, enjoying feeling her barely pubescent body. Under the guise of cleaning her she caressed a small, firm bottom, making sure to slip her fingers between the girl’s buttocks.
When her soapy finger touched the girl’s anus she asked, “Did the Lord take you here?” She pushed slightly letting the tip of her finger probe in, shuddering slightly at the wave of excitement she felt.
Victoria blushed. “With his finger, m’lady,” she said shyly.
“How deep did he go?” Abigail asked, squeezing her thick thighs together as she probed deeper.
“I don’t know, m’lady.”
“Bend over Victoria,” Abigail instructed. Her heart was beating as Victoria’s sweet little pubis emerged. She rinsed Victoria’s bottom. “I must make sure Lord Holby didn’t damage you.”
Abigail felt moisture leaking onto her plump thighs while she probed between Victoria’s labia, seeking and finding her prepuce. With mounting excitement she slipped her finger to the tiny entrance of Victoria’s vagina, probing in slightly with the tip of her finger. Withdrawing her hand she tasted her finger, a surge of arousal swelling her pudendum at the sweet taste.
“Dry yourself off well Victoria. You should wait in the Lord’s chambers. He will be along in good time,” Abigail said, leaving the bathing room and moving quickly to her boudoir. Collapsing on her bed, she pulled her gown up frantically, reached between her legs and thrust her finger deep into her soaking vagina, groaning in need for sweet release. She pleasured herself to the image of touching Victoria’s pubis, her finger moving in and out rhythmically and, just before her climax crested, she thrust a second finger in, stretching herself as her thick body shook and jiggled, climaxing hard.
Straightening her gown she decided she’d offer the ten year old, currently staying in the servants’ quarters, the full two Guineas and not hold one back on the condition the child would spend time with her. If her husband could have the pleasure of a child’s carnal company, so could she. The thought excited her.
Lord Holby entered his chambers to see Victoria sitting on his bed in a night gown. He felt an immediate tumescence at the sight of the child waiting for him. She smiled shyly, a delightful rosy bloom on her cheeks.
“Victoria, how nice it is to set eyes on such loveliness,” he said, her flush intensifying.
“Tonight I will introduce you to the pleasures of oral stimulation,” he advised as he removed his clothing. Looking over at her he added, “It would please me if you removed your night gown.”
The sight of her barely mature, barely pubescent body brought him to full stiffness. She was a lovely and attractive child. Her youth was so much more alluring than Abigail. He realised just how sensual youth was and wondered how young the child Abigail had arranged for tomorrow night might be.
Standing in front of her, his phallus firm, engorged and pointing to her face he started her instruction. “Victoria, we will be pleasuring each other tonight. But first you must learn how to pleasure me. You should hold my phallus in both hands. Yes, like that,” he said, guiding her small hands.
“Now, start by kissing the tip.” A slight shudder passed though his body when her small soft lips touched his crown. “Good girl. Now kiss it again but, this time, caress it with your tongue.” Her small tongue excited him. It was soft and delicate, a teasing touch that made him want more. He admired his erection, how it appeared so impressive held in a child’s hands. Yes, Victoria was a delightful young lass.
“That’s very good Victoria. Now, to give pleasure to a man, you should take the tip of his phallus into your mouth. When you do, caress it with your tongue and suck on it gently. Do you understand?”
“Yes m’Lord,” she replied quietly, eyes upturned to him.
“Very good. You are a beautiful girl, Victoria. Now there are two more things you must know. When you are sucking gently, you should endeavour to move my phallus in and out of your mouth and stroke the shaft at the same time.
“You will know how well you’ve pleased me as my seed will spill into your mouth if I am satisfied. When it does, it is perfectly safe to swallow it. My seed cannot hurt you. Do you have any questions?”
“No m’Lord.”
“Very well. Do not fret child. I am sure you will be excellent. I shall endeavour to bring you great pleasure at the same time.”
Reaching for her delicate hand, Lord Holby led her to the bed, lifting her small body up onto it. On his back he instructed her to straddle him facing towards his erect phallus. Her beautiful bottom spread seductively, buttocks separating, her delightful pubis prominent as her knee crossed his chest. Succulent labia parted revealing her prepuce and the dark tiny entrance to her vagina. While she gently held his erection, he plumped pillows behind his head in order to taste her in comfort.
Lord Holby caressed her sweet buttocks inspecting her spread pubis. Her short cleft cradled a long prepuce leading to the bump that protected her clitoris. Soft, sparse pubic hairs lay flat on her vulva accentuating its seductive shapely curves. She glistened with female moisture and her small, small vaginal opening was a dark alluring shadow. Lord Holby groaned quietly when he felt her sweet mouth descend over his crown, his erection expanding and pulsing from the delightful sensation.
Leaning up, he tasted her youth, sweet and musky. Her thighs trembled when his tongue teased her prepuce, seeking her small clitoris. Feeling the gentle suction of her small moist mouth and the rhythm of her hands stroking him, his tongue delved into the glistening entrance of her vagina. Her youth was clearly evident in the tightness of her opening against the tip of his tongue. He searched for her clitoris and was rewarded when Victoria moaned with his crown in her mouth, the soft vibrations building his arousal.
As he probed into her vagina, the memory of his erection buried deeply and held tight and warmly in her velvety sheath excited him even more. The memory of the pleasure he’d experienced changed his mind, now wanting to join with her again, feel her seductive grip on his aching erection.
“Victoria,” he ordered as he gently pulled on her small hips, “please turn around.”
Victoria let his erection slip from her mouth and turned on his body, her legs to his sides.
Guiding her, she rose, lifting her groin off him, his arousal high as he observed the spread of her flushed labia and the glisten of his saliva. She was a delicate and lovely girl, her small breasts and youthfulness exciting him. Watching her look down, reach to hold his erection and slip the crown through her silky, moist cleft brought a pulse of pleasure.
He felt her nestle him to the tiny entrance to her vagina, felt the opening dilate and slip tightly over his crown. With feverish eyes he stared at their joining, admiring how his thick erection stretched her labia wide, as if she was impaling herself on a lamp post. And then he moaned aloud, her velvet sheath slipping down his shaft. He felt her insides parting and caressing him in moist, slippery heat, holding him snugly in the embrace of a young pubis.
Fully seated on him, her sparsely dusted pudendum plumped out pleasingly against his groin. He held her slight waist and guided her. Victoria was a quick study and was soon rising and falling, caressing his entire shaft with her tight velvet sheath, her clitoris dipping and rubbing against him. Caressing her small breasts Lord Holby felt his orgasm stir, but in a moment of weakness brought on by her cooperation and sweetness, he tried to hold off and wait for her. Pressure built and, when he gently pinched her nipples, he was rewarded with a beautiful blush that spread from her upper chest to her pretty face. Victoria climaxed silently, short little inhalations, gasps of pleasure, her buttocks clenching with each pulse of euphoria pulsing through her small body.
He could hold back no longer. Her orgasm pleased him and added to his arousal. Grabbing her slender hips, he thrust up into her seeking her deepest part. His erection swelled. Semen pulsed into her with a burst of pleasure, her eyes opening wide as she felt him deposit his seed, a strong pulse. He heaved his loins off the bed pulling her down tightly as another hard pulse tore from him to flood her small womb. With a groan of pure pleasure he thrust up and deposited his seed, aching from the sweet release, pulsing and thrusting until a white froth developed where they were joined.
Collapsing, Lord Holby pulled Victoria down to his heaving chest. “Lovely, my child, lovely,” he whispered softly. Rolling to his side, he left his phallus in her as sleep took him away.
He awoke to early morning light and a warm moist feeling. Looking down he saw Victoria on her knees bent over, small breasts conical, with a firm grip on his morning tumescent penis. Victoria’s small lips were stretched wide over him. With gentle suction, her cheeks hollowing, a soft stroke of his rigid shaft, one hand cupping his testicles, and the seductive feeling of her small tongue swirling around his crown, she brought Lord Holby to an intense climax. He saw his shaft expand as semen rushed up to be expelled forcefully into Victoria’s small mouth. Seeing her swallow his seed brought on another exquisite pulse of pleasure, semen erupting into her mouth, sweet lips sealed on his shaft. The child drained him, sucking and swallowing each pulse until he had no more, his phallus wilting, sated. With a dainty kiss she let it go, turned and smiled at him.
“Victoria, that was magnificent,” he said, full of appreciation. Abigail had never managed to satisfy him like that. Victoria was a treasure, a sweet, young and willing bed partner. “I would like you joined me in bed every night, except for Saturdays. I find I am quite enamoured with you,” he said, bringing a blush and sweet smile to her face.
She’d shown remarkable initiative and, despite the blush, a forwardness that was surprising for her thirteen years. He quite liked the idea of her being his bed companion.
“Thank you, your Lordship. That would please me greatly,” she said shyly.
“Victoria, while in my chambers, why not call me Charles?”
Saturday was not the relaxing day Lord Holby had wished for. He received a steady stream of visitors, all Lords, pleading their case for the coming Monday debate in the House. These were visitors he had no desire to parade Lady Abigail in front of. So with appropriate instructions she remained out of sight, despite it being her duty to serve refreshments. He requested Victoria serve in her place.
Somewhat miffed, Abigail turned her attention to more personal interests. Thinking about the ten year old in the servants’ quarters brought a pleasant warmth to her loins.
“Mary,” she enquired of the housekeeper, “where did you room the child?”
“In the east wing, m’Lady. Third floor.”
Abigail passed through the kitchen to give Cook instructions. Her husband would need energy and vigour tonight. Cook was to prepare a lavish meal.
Entering the bedroom in the servants’ quarters she had a quiet chat with the child, Bernadette. She felt her arousal return when Bernadette agreed to join her in her chambers after leaving Lord Holby for an extra Guinea.
The day passed slowly for Lord Holby. His attention to the political positions of various Lords would drift as he contemplated what surprise Abigail had in store. He’d deliberately refrained from asking, preferring the excitement of anticipation.
Lord Holby paused as he entered his chambers. A small child sat on the edge of his bed in a simple virginal white nightgown. She was a tiny waif, small pretty face with blue eyes, button nose and attractive red lips. Her long straight blond tresses fell down her back to her waist and glowed with a sheen from the fire crackling in the hearth.
He studied her. She seemed very young, perhaps nine or ten, and angelically cute. He found himself aroused by her youth. Such a small child and younger than his eldest daughter! He wondered how she would be in bed.
Smiling, he inquired as to her name.
“Bernadette,” she replied in a sweet lilting voice.
“Are you from Wales?” he asked. She had a distinctive Welsh accent.
“Yes sir.”
“Pray tell, how did it come about that you are homeless?”
She dropped her head, speaking softly, “My parents were robbed and murdered, sir.”
“I see. So you’ve lived on the streets for how long Bernadette?” Lord Holby was intrigued. She didn’t have the countenance or personality of the street waifs he’d observed. There was none of the hard edge he’d expected.
“Three months, sir.”
He felt a slight hesitation enter him. Perhaps she was too young, not tainted enough by the rigours of living off her wits. Yet she was undeniably appealing.
“Were you advised as to why you are here?”
“Yes sir,” she answered with a slight blush. “You are to have congress with me and I will get one Guinea.”
A flush of anger passed through Lord Holby. Abigail had been given strict instructions, two Guineas was to be paid. She was holding back and pocketing one Guinea. Unacceptable!
“My child, you are to be paid two Guineas, not one,” he advised Bernadette, somehow feeling it was unfair to cheat the child.
“Oh yes sir, I know,” she responded brightly. “The other Guinea is to be given to me after I lay with Lady Abigail.”
Lord Holby paused, thunderstruck. Abigail? Desirous of this child? A girl? Suddenly all was clear, her lack of arousal, her lack of response, Abigail preferred the attention of females! Well now, wasn’t that a turn of events. He smiled.
Turning his attention back to the child he asked, “Are you sure you understand what I am asking of you, Bernadette?”
“Yes sir,” she said softly. “You will have carnal relations with me.”
Walking over to her Lord Holby lifted her face. “Tell me child, do you understand what that means?”
She blushed. “Yes sir. I’ve seen men and women in the back alleyways.”
“Are you not scared?”
“Yes sir. But I will have money for food and Lady Abigail promised me a roof over my head and a bed for one whole week!” she answered enthusiastically.
Lord Holby considered her answer, observed her carefully. She was undeniably a child with a very attractive countenance, and he found her immaturity extraordinarily appealing. The thought of intercourse with this child, a child younger than Daphne, his own daughter, was most arousing.
“Bernadette,” he said, smiling kindly, “if you please me tonight and if it pleases you, I will add you to our household staff.” Perhaps, he thought, he’d room her with Victoria. A personal harem! How intriguing.
Bernadette graced him with a broad and bright smile. “I will do my utmost to please you, sir,” she said enthusiastically.
Her evident eagerness and willingness brought Lord Holby to full tumescence. Taking her small hand he encouraged her to stand. She was indeed petite, her head no higher than mid chest. She was delightfully slender, waifish from lack of nutrition, yet she did not appear to be starving. Altogether Bernadette was very pleasing to his eye.
Kneeling, he pulled her to him gently, holding her small back with one hand while he guided her head with the other, their lips touching. He enjoyed the feel of her tiny lips against his and tentatively touched them with his tongue. She was sweetly shy, a rosy blush gracing her cheeks as he probed softly between her lips. Pulling back he looked into her eyes. He guided her hands onto to his shoulders.
“Shall we try that again? It would please me if you opened your pretty mouth, Bernadette,” he encouraged. She smiled sweetly, blushing. Lord Holby once again guided her head to him.
He kissed her gently at first then more deeply, delighted to feel her hands hold his shoulders a little tighter when his tongue slipped into her small warm mouth, her soft little tongue touching his hesitantly, innocently. Yes, he thought, Bernadette was very arousing indeed.
Rising from his knees he brought the hem of her floor-length nightgown up with him, his excitement surging at the sight of her nakedness underneath. Pulling her nightgown off over her head, he dropped it to the side and knelt again. He was intensely aroused at her immature body; just a child. Small pink areolae poked out from her chest with the first hint of pubescence, topped by tiny little nipples. She was indeed slight of form with no hint of flare to her hips. Her pudendum was perfectly hairless and surprisingly prominent, her mons rising attractively and curving down seductively to fill the gap between very slender thighs. He found her small pubis remarkably attractive, very arousing.
Seeing how her rounded, plump labia formed a tightly closed, virginal cleft that hid the treasures within had him aching with desire for the child, so sweet and innocent, so excitingly young and tender.
Leaning forward he kissed the silky soft pad of her pudendum before standing and lifting her light body onto the bed. She watched him undress, her eyes widening at the sight of his erection.
“Bernadette, this first time might cause you some pain,” Lord Holby told her. “But I will endeavour to minimise it. If it becomes too much, speak out child. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes sir,” she answered in a small voice, apprehension evident in the tone.
He felt an overwhelming desire to penetrate her, feel her tightness, to experience sexual intercourse with such a young girl. She excited and aroused him more than any other. Yet he felt tenderness at the same time, perhaps due to her unfortunate situation, or perhaps because of the way she accepted him. However, regardless of the reason, he wanted to try and make it special for her, reasoning that if it were, she would be a willing bed partner for him and Victoria; that thought intriguing.
Gently he suckled on her barely protuberant areolae, using his tongue to caress them gently. He used his hand to caress her small pudendum. Bernadette was dry when he traced her short cleft so he applied some of his moisture to her, rewarded when his fingertip slipped between tight little labia, finding silky softness and warmth in-between.
Kissing her sweet lips he encouraged her to use her tongue and as they intertwined gently, his fingers searched for her clitoris. With utmost care he stirred her arousal, gently rubbing the small bead and dipping down to caress her tiny, tiny vaginal entrance. He trembled with excitement and desire.
Gradually Bernadette responded with a hint of moisture and a firmer movement of her tongue. Lord Holby was ready, excited and fully erect. Rising over her he moved between her legs and pulled a pillow beneath her small bottom, raising her groin. Bending, he kissed her sweet pudendum gently and then, leaning over her small body, lightly kissed each areola and her small mouth.
“Be brave, Bernadette. I will try to be gentle,” he said. She smiled hesitantly.
Holding his erection, he nestled it to the very small gap between her labia. She looked too small with his crown completely obscuring her cleft. Using gentle up and down motions he spread his generous lubrication through her cleft, labia parting to hug his crown. Shivers of pleasure coursed through him at the sight of his adult erection pressed to a little, immature pubis. Moving the crown from side to side he eased it deeper, rewarded when he felt the small indentation that lead to her vaginal opening.
He pushed. His crown flattened and spread, Bernadette’s clitoris dipping to rub against him. When he used his thumbs to gently spread her labia apart, the tip of his crown eased in. A fine line of blood gathered and oozed when he pressed forward. Bernadette inhaled sharply. Her fists gripping the sheets. Her small thighs twitched in an automatic need to close together, protect herself, reacting to a stab of pain. A frown of discomfort appeared on her pretty face.
“Almost over, bear up,” he whispered softly, pausing and caressing her clitoris gently with his thumb, waiting for her pain to subside. With his other hand he gently stroked her body, gentle, calming. He smiled at her, a beautiful little girl.
Lord Holby waited for Bernadette. He felt her relax and waited even longer. While waiting for the little girl to calm down he continued to caress her clitoris in slow gentle circles, his penis pulsing as it pressed to her immature vagina. Satisfied that she was calm and relaxed, he pushed again, his crown paling it was squeezed tightly. But bit by bit, slowly, carefully, he made progress, stretching her tiny vagina to accommodate his girth and, with a wave of pure pleasure, he watched his crown disappear into her, her labia stretched around his shaft, exquisite arousal storming him. He’d penetrated her and it felt wonderful.
She was extremely tight, almost painfully tight, a warm velvet vice holding him. He could feel his lubrication leaking into her with every strong pulse. The sight of his adult erection actually penetrating her little pubis was intensely arousing. The urge to thrust was tremendous. But with care, extreme care, he moved his turgid phallus in small strokes, starting with less than a quarter-inch. As lubrication spread he let himself carefully probe deeper, Bernadette’s little vagina almost inverting when he pulled back slightly, her stretched labia pushed in as he stroked in. Gradually the way became more lubricated, strokes longer and soon Bernadette’s tight sheath was accommodating four inches of his erection.
With her virginity taken and erection held in her tight velvety grasp, he pulled the pillow out from under her, leaned over and lay partially off her small, small body. Reaching down he cupped her firm little buttocks and, holding them, each a sensual palm full, he proceeded to slowly have intercourse with the child, withdrawing and thrusting in, gradually pushing her bottom up to meet each forward thrust, relishing the singularly erotic sensation of sex with such a young child. His climax approached just as he felt his erection touch the end of her channel. Groaning at the intense pleasure assaulting his senses, the feeling of penetrating this small immature little girl, this beautiful child, he thrust into her, froze, his erection expanding, and a strong, strong pulse of exquisite pleasure stormed in. He groaned loudly, his seed erupting into her powerfully, his crown firmly pushed to her cervix. He pulled out partially and thrust again, pleasure flooding his body when semen exploded again, a stronger, heavier eruption of seed flooding her undeveloped womb. In the full grip of his orgasm, he thrust and pulsed, spurting heavily into Bernadette, heaving and panting, spurting gloriously until the wave of bliss passed. Breathing heavily he relaxed, body melting. He was completely drained, satiated and blissfully calm. Bernadette felt beautifully small and delicate underneath him. She moved slightly.
He gently moved off her small body to lay at her side. The satisfaction that permeated him was wonderful.
Covering them, he pulled Bernadette’s small warm body to him, wrapped her in his arms and whispered softly, “You were wonderful, Bernadette. It would please me greatly if you were to join our household.”
As sleep crept in he wondered how much spare room the servants’ quarters actually had.
Abigail felt a strong, strong pulse of arousal when her fingers felt her husband’s seed leaking from Bernadette’s tiny, reddened vagina. She’d fetched Bernadette after Lord Holby descended for breakfast.
She could feel moisture seeping from herself as she probed and felt the child’s tightness, her immature little vagina slippery and warm. Bernadette’s tiny clitoris was a hard bead under the pad of Abigail’s probing finger.
Moaning, Abigail rolled her corpulent body between the child’s legs, spreading them and moving in. Reaching between her own legs with one hand, she caressed her inflamed clitoris while her mouth touched Bernadette’s damp, semen-covered little cleft. Bolts of pleasure coursed through her body when she tasted her husband’s seed, picturing his phallus stretching the child’s tiny vagina, throbbing and pulsing as he deposited semen deep within her immature vagina.
She thrust her tongue into Bernadette’s pubis, stroking herself harder, rubbing her clitoris, her hips hunching as arousal intensified. With a deep groan, her mouth firmly locked to the girl’s cleft, Abigail sucked and, when her mouth was flooded with semen, she climaxed hard, hips bouncing on the bed as she swallowed and sucked. Lights flashed behind her eyes with the strength of her orgasm, stronger than she’d ever felt, intense and deeply satisfying.
Lord Holby noticed Abigail had a pleasant smile as they ate Sunday lunch, silverware clinking on fine bone china. “Abigail,” he began after taking a sip of red wine, “your selection of Bernadette was outstanding. Thank you. I have decided she should join the household staff. Perhaps you could arrange it? She could room with Victoria.”
“Of course, Charles,” Lady Abigail responded with a smile. “I’ll arrange it today.”
Lord Holby studied Abigail. She seemed much brighter. “I trust you find the current arrangements to your satisfaction?” he enquired, smiling. He’d noticed her slip into his chambers earlier as he descended the stairs.
Abigail’s smile broadened. “Yes Charles. I am quite satisfied with our understanding. It suits me well.”
THE END