enovel Maid of Delight Florent d'Asherville [Future Story Codes]

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Maid of Delight ....(118k)    by Florent d'Asherville

CHAPTER ONE

He was a handsome devil, he was, all in a scarlet coat and a black moustache. His name was Charley Dartle, which name I'll never forget. He ran me up the back stairs like a mudlark with the police after. Sis was not home, and no one to listen to my screams. That's how Charley Dartle had me in the loft. And me only twelve.

It was a horrifying thing, fair enough, with Charley hissing at me to keep shut. "I'll give ye a ride in a phaeton," he says, as though that would make it all good and proper.

He gave me a great meaty thing 'tween the legs and it hurt something fierce because of him jamming it in and him so excited. I was lying in a wallow of boxes and paper and there was blood all over enough to make you sick, like a battle at the Red Lion. But Charley wasn't fazed and kept a bumping himself on me, and then he got all bloodied, too.

I fainted dead away and when I came to, Charley was gone and I was still lying there. I hurt terrible bad, being so small for him.

The most awful thing about it was my sister, Millie. When I got downstairs somehow I was cleaning myself up when in she came. She looked at me and burst out laughing.

"Who's been at my little sister," she screams, giggling like a music hall girl. "My little choir-singing sister."

I told her right enough that it was Charley Dartle and she got white, thinking I was lying to her.

"Charley ain't been here-"

"He was, and you'll see the blood on 'im-" But I didn't get to finish because she was out of the house like a shot and running to the barracks. She was very sweet on Charley.

That was the day my story started, for before that I was no real woman, only a girl. We lived in Upper Hamstead Road, and my father was a brushmaker. My mother was wasting daily, too weak to work her needle and most often in bed. The day that Charley Dartle brought me down, she was at the doctor's for her monthly visit and Mrs. Brackin next door was with her, they being old friends.

My sister Millie was sixteen, black-haired and hot-eyed as any, and letting Charley do it to her and others too, because I had seen it. Millie and I quarreled over everything. She would lie and steal and was no true daughter of my father.

My name is Nell Widdicomb and I have always been a true and virtuous woman-even though my body has been used by those who would wish me ill. They cannot touch my soul.

Millie come back and she was very glum. I knew that she had seen Charley, or had seen the blood on him, but she would not admit it to me, me being so much younger and therefore not so knowing as she. Millie didn't care about me and only turned her back when I questioned her. To say it true, I was frightened of what he had done and the thought of it was with me always. I dared not tell Mums because she was ill and it would worry her. And I could not tell my father, fearing he would seek out Charley and there would be police after him, for he would beat Charley within an inch of his life, though Charley was a soldier.

The second day it hurt more and was raw. I was split too, a little, and it hurt inside where he had thrust his truncheon. And then when I passed the barber, old Mr. Blunt, I saw him outside the shop, standing with his pipe and watching the crossing sweeper.

"Please sir," I said, though I had known him all my years, "can I ask you-" He took the pipe from his mouth and looked down at me. I am only up to the shoulders of a man like Mr. Blunt, though I look older than twelve. "Yer a pretty gal, Nelly," he said.

"Thank you, sir. I was wondering, what would-"

"Speak out, girl."

I stammered, wondering how to say my quim was throbbing. Even to a barber. "I've a-a-rash," I said at last.

"Ahhhh," he said, drawing the word out and looking at me in a different way. "And where is this rash?"

"Does it-matter?"

"Oh, indeed it does, girl. One kind of medicine for one spot and another-but you see, don't you?" He took my arm and drew me into the shop. "Come, let's talk out of the sun."

I peeked in first. No one there. It was a tiny room with a large chair and the whole smelled of some reeking scent and soap and smoke for the stove leaked and the wall was black with soot with a great spot on the ceiling.

Mr. Blunt took my arm with steel fingers; I hadn't thought him to be so strong. Talk, he did. A constant rush of talk, of medicine and learning, and how he knew a carbuncle from a leeched eye and how a broken arm must be set up just so and bandaged with linen that was costly but do you want a jutting arm? Of course not.

"I'll just shut the door, the wind blows through here like a simoon, must see to it." Into the back room, past the chair and shelves. I protested, but Mr. Blunt would not hear of it, aren't we friends? Haven't I shaved your father these twenty years, and him not always able to pay the ha'penny.

"Now, let's wink at that rash, girl. Just a peep."

I cowered back, naturally reluctant and more so since his black eyes sparkled and his fingers twitched.

"I'd take a bit of salve, Mr. Blunt, sir," I stammered. "'Tis really naught to bother you-" He laughed, a cackle. He had a lean, dark face, blotched with a sharp nose and teeth that crowded together all yellow like the broken pickets of a diseased fence. His busy fingers danced up my arms and I found myself on my back and instantly bolted upright, thinking of Charley Dartle.

"Come now, little Miss Nelly," he said soothingly. "I've cured many a girl, and I've the documents to prove. I want to do the same, you know, and you've only to trust me just a bit. Come, come, you're taking up valuable time girl-" He examined my arms with a great display of science, prodding and twisting.

"It's not-there," I gulped.

"Where then?" He chuckled and made as to unfasten my merino gown. "Your belly, lass?"

I was shamed at mention of so intimate a region and plucked at his fingers. "No sir, not there."

"Ahhhh, then, the legs. Yes, the in-between rash. One gets it, you know, after twelve. You must be fourteen, eh? At least fourteen. I've cured many with the in-between rash."

I had never heard of it, of course. I suppose that when Millie had gotten this rash she had said nothing to me, it would be so like her. I blushed as he felt my ankle and turned it this way and that and examined the mate.

"No sign of a rash, girl." He assumed a stern expression and cocked his dark head. "I'll mind you not to sport with me, little Miss Nell."

"Oh, but I have a rash, sir!"

"Then out with it. Let's see it and cure it. We'll fix you up in no time." His hand slipped up to my knee and I pressed the two of them together. How many times had I heard Old Mrs. Brackin say that all the ills of a young girl could be avoided if she would only keep her knees close together.

"Please, sir-please-" Nothing but a clucking of tongue. He forced my knees wide. I knew my skirts were being swept up. I moaned aloud.

"Now, now, girl, none of that."

"But sir, please, Mr. Blunt-" I fought him with feeble hands, weak with shame and half disposed to let him cure me; he was a barber after all.

His voice was husky. "Oh, you're a round thing, little Nelly. Yes, I've been overlooking ye, I see it now."

"The-rash, sir?"

"I see a bit of redness, girl Here, I'll put the med'cine on it." He leaned on me, forcing my head back down on the mattress of the couch. The cork out of a bottle, pop! I felt the wetness and the coldness of a liquid on my bare thighs. He patted it.

I felt relieved-he was a span from my quim-and relaxed my tense knees. Then I gasped, for he had pulled my underpants aside and his hard fingers were caressing that which, save the good grace of God, no one but Charley Dartle had invaded.

"Oh, sir," I struggled upward. "Oh sir!"

His weight was on me and the finger bathed my intimate region with the oil to cure. "Damnit, girl, how can I service you if all this flurry-come now-" And he pushed me roughly down again. And then in the second's struggle I saw his face above me and felt the now familiar thrust where Charley had split me sooner.

I felt it hard and big like a timber, and Mr. Blunt grinned down in the gloom of the little room and I felt him move.

"Oh my goodness, sir," I gasped. "Whatever are you doing to me?"

"Be quiet, missy. 'Tis necessary to lave the oil where the hurt is."

"Oh, but you're-you're-doing it, oh, I feel it-"

"Do you now?" He pushed my legs wide apart and there was naught I could do to prevent that. The thing that thrust me continued and I could easily see that it was not Mr. Blunt's hands, either one, for they rested beside my head and his body lay on mine.

I sighed deep, knowing that he, like Charley Dartle, could not be dissuaded from the Devil's errand till the deed had been accomplished. So much had I learned in two days! "Oh, you're a sweet one," he said in his husky voice, leering at me as a man might leer at a serving wench at one of the casinos. It caused a shiver to creep up my spine for what he would think of me, lying thus under him with my nakedness exposed to the rubbing of his skin. I bit my lip with shame too, for the horrid article inside me. I could feel it move with wanton strokings for his loins were never still, attacking mine so unseemingly eager.

"It doesn't hurt, eh, Missy?"

I had to admit it did not. But the outrageous way the loathsome act stirred my reeling senses was proof of the sinful quality of what he did. My face was flushed with sinfulness.

Charley Dartle had been quick and rough and nothing of what he had done had relieved my bruised feelings. Mr. Blunt had first soothed me with oil, I knew. I was grateful that he had thus protected me. I was coming, however, to disbelieve his tale of pressing medicine within my tender orifice. Could that not be done another way?

"Surely," I quavered, "the treatment is over?"

He moved the invading organ in a rhythmical manner. "Oh, we've just begun, you can see that. Don't it feel good now? The oil will seep in them crevices, Missy, and it'll give you the wiggles like a spot of Blue Ruin, you mark my words."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"'Course I'm sure. Like I said, you got the in-between rash something awful. This here's the only treatment. I thought you knew that."

I bit my lips again. It did feel better. But in feeling better it felt sinful as well. I knew that was unchurchly for such a thing could not pass the muster of God. It made me sigh, for how is a tiny girl to thread her devious way 'twixt the whispers of grinning gargoyles and the teasings of lechery? And Mums had warned us both, Millie and me, of lechery. And she made it sound so frilly and exciting. I knew that Millie had long since succumbed to its beckonings. I had to hold out against all temptation for the honor of Mums and of what she taught.

And what would she think, seeing me thus? I blushed in the smelly gloom of the barber's back room, feeling his rampant organ up me. God save us! Mums must never know.

Mr. Blunt had begun to pant and squirm about in his heat and passion of lust. I felt the plunging organ, and ground my teeth to keep the lushness in proper place. Oh, that lechery should invade me! It must not be. I thought of the needlework Mums had done and of the potted plant in the corner of the kitchen. And felt my body driving upward to meet his, telling myself that I must keep that driving spike from piercing my entrails.

Oh the fight! The terrible passion of lust! I thrust it from me, pushing him away with my loins. With vigor and eagerness I heaved at him, seeking to force him to uncouple from me. Alas, to no avail.

He became a madman. He pummeled me, held me so tightly I could hardly breathe. His hard panting hissed in my ear. His jabbing organ frothed in me; I screamed as it ravaged me and a fire consumed me to conceal my shame. I bucked and twisted to keep the voracious paroxysms at a distance and succeeded only in wearying myself.

But Mr. Blunt was in a delirium, after his feverish assault. His wracked body spasmed with involuntary and lunging spasms. His breath wheezed and then slowly he subsided. The Devil was going out of him.

I was mortified that that very same devil had entered me, even though momentarily. I flushed that it had darted furtive pangs of pleasure through my wracked body. What had I come to? And me so young. Surely the Devil was an evil personage! I shuddered to remember my closeness with that evil.

Mr. Blunt rolled to his side and looked at me, the dark brows and sparkling eyes wide. I felt him rise from me and I closed my knees properly and pushed my skirts quickly down. He laughed. "Too late, Missy. Too terrible late."

I blushed, to understand his meaning. I knew I had been had. 'Twas no medicine he gave me, but a good drubbing with the tassel. "You've been unkind, sir," I said.

He wiped the drooping organ as I averted mine eyes. "Lor', you'll see plenty of them 'fore you're growed, girl."

"Please, sir. May I go now?"

I sat up and he laughed again and reached down a bottle of dark stuff and a dusty glass which he rubbed on his pantaloons and looked at with a cocked eye.

"Here, have a drink on our meeting, girl. Now we's really friends, you 'n I, huh, Nelly?"

"You deceived me with that med'cine-"

"Ah, 'twill cure you, girl. There's naught wrong with you that will not go away of its own accord, and I merely helped it along. You should thank me for that."

He poured the liquid and smelled it, then offered the glass to me; I refused, naturally. He shrugged and tossed it down. I heard it gurgle in his long throat.

Then he leaned toward me and I smelled the sharp breath of him. "You'll say naught of our med'cine, Nelly. 'Tis a bad thing for a girl so young to get a reputation, wot?"

I bit my lip in frustration. He had me there.

I knew then he was a wicked man. I rose and nearly ran from the room, hearing his laughter follow me. Oh, I was so ashamed.

But in the days that followed, the rash went away, as he had said it would. I examined the secret place with the aid of Millie's mirror, feeling some sly guilt in the doing of it, but 'twas my body and I had the care of it for no other could. The rash was gone and the rawness. I was sound as a cabbage and smooth as liver. And the feel of my investigating finger was as the devil's breath on that nether place. I hurried into my underpants with panting breath. Were those terrible men making me into a wanton?

We lived in Upper Hamstead Road, as I have said, a place of simple houses, though crowded close, and of narrow streets and often smelly. The horse turds piled up like golden hillocks till they were swept away, followed by tiny, black birds. There were public houses close and soldiers' women paraded the streets under flaring gas lamps. The Reverend Mr. Twistle held services in the side room of the church, what had been a stable and was now floored with wooden benches and gas piped in. The choir practised there twice each week-on Mondays and Thursdays.

I was a full-fledged member of the choir, though Millie laughed at me for it. She would go to the practice and slip out the door to meet Charley Dartle in the alley. Charley avoided me since the incident in the loft. I am sure that Millie gave him what-for about it. I caught his eye a time or two and he looked away instant like as though Millie's eyes were on him, as perhaps they were.

I enjoyed the choir. And the practice. We women would gossip, though the others giggled at the men too often, it was still a pleasant diversion and I looked forward to it. Father liked me to go, he said.

"You an' the Lord'll get on well, Nelly," he said to me often. "You do as He says and I'll not worrit."

I knew he worried about Millie, with Mums ill. If he knew what she did, Millie, he gave me no sign. I was tempted to tell him, but the thought had come to me that Millie would not hesitate to get even. So I prayed for her. I was sure that would help.

Unfortunately Millie did not always help herself, and people talked. She was an unheeding, rash girl. When she was with Charley Dartle during choir practice she cared for nothing else. I was most mortified at the recess when I repaired to the alley, on finding them there. Millie with her brown skirts about her waist and Charley working like a larky young bloke 'tween her open thighs, and her back to the wall. I gasped on seeing them, and Millie only motioned me away with face so black and angry that I had discovered them-as though it were my fault.

"You did that a-purpose," she accused later at home. "You come after us trying to catch us, you little peeper." I protested my innocence to no avail. "Well, go on and look," she said. "You know what it's about anyway." And she gave me a stare of brazen, leering eyes that made me shrink inside, for she was right. I had been had and she knew it. She had power over me.

"Just see that you keep your mouth tight shut," she warned, pushing a finger into my face. "I'll do what I please and no nonsense, do you hear that, little Miss Proper?"

I ran out. She was horrid.

We were very poor. Father was only a brushmaker and work was not as steady as he would have liked. He took to ragpicking in off times, and Mums and we were lucky that he did not sulk and indulge in swinish delights at the pubs.

Millie had a job, maid-in-waiting to a house of swells, though she hated it, the work. She liked being in the house, but Millie hated work. The cook and the butler made her work. "They're sneaky and they creep after me," she said.

I did as yet go to school, for Father would have it no other way. I knew the fee came hard and it worried me, for Mums should have the med'cine that the schoolmaster took as drops from her mouth. I was going on thirteen and should go to steady employment, even as Millie did.

Millie, as I say, hated the work, yet I wondered when I went to that swell house occasionally on some errand for Mums. For Millie seemed, when she did not know that I was there, to be gay as a bird. Mark the day when Mums sent me to her to ask that she hurry home; I had the choir doing. I went in the kitchen, as I always did, first knocking lightly. But no one heard and being in a hurry to see Millie, I pressed the door aside and entered. The kitchen was warm, bread was baking, and no one there.

Alas, I found her in the pantry, legs askew and apron about her flushed neck. A man, I knew not his name, labored with her in the game of the wicked two-back beasts. I confess, I stood in the doorway, the door ajar, and stared open-mouthed at the spectacle of my sister being cruelly had by a stranger. I gaped at her immodesty and the passion displayed, their intimate parts flouted. There was a wild look in her eye and a panting that no decorous lady would exhibit. The undulations of her trim body were not lost on me, and I turned with a cry of dismay and ran from the place. I heard Millie shout, but I ran strongly and away, forgetting my errand entire.

She taunted me when we met that evening. "Did you get an eyeful, Little Miss Proper? That was Himself, the Son, you saw."

I didn't answer such wickedness, begging her only to leave me alone, for I was humiliated by her.

"You're too good for your bottom," she said and went to meet Charley.

But I had other interests. For many a week I had observed a lovely lady on the next street to ours, St. Giles Lane, who wore the most fashionable clothes I had seen. She fascinated me, since I was but a growing girl with heady ideas and dreams in my head. I thought of her as a princess who came alone to the lane for some mysterious lark and to allow me to look upon her.

As I passed to and fro to choir practice and on errands for Mums and perhaps just a walk, I would see her standing near the great gas lamp of the corner where the evening light would catch the shiny bits of her costume and fling them off in rainbow sparkles. I thought of diamonds and other precious stuff. She must be very rich.

It happened that I was in the shoe-binder's shop near St. Giles when my heroine entered and I was speechless to be so near.

"Say there laddie, you got m'shoes ready?" she asked in a voice that was less than queenly, but I hardly noticed.

"'Alf a mo," the man said in return and gave her a wink. I was sure then that he had some private connection with the great lady, a man-in-waiting perhaps, or a servant that commoners did not ken, so I looked away, not to expose a secret.

"Hurry it up," she said and drummed pink nails on the scarred counter. She saw me looking at her and smiled and nodded as though we had met. I curtsied and she laughed and came over and patted my head. "Wot's your name, lass?"

"Nell, if it please-"

"Nell, aye? That's a good name. I've been Nellie meself at times."

I had no idea what that meant. She was dressed in shimmery stuff and a crinoline with a light gray mantle that matched her eyes. Her hair was blondish, though dark at the roots, and she had a straw hat perched becomingly on her head with a long feather spouting out of the side. She was beautiful.

The shoemaker came 'round the end of the counter and gave her a bundle, and I could not be sure that he touched her because I blinked when she turned. Base thoughts are not for such as her, but I might have sworn, had it been anyone else, that he gave her a pat on the rump. It could not have been for she made no sign.

I saw her later, on the street under the gas lamp, and she smiled at me to say that we were acquaintances of a way. She was waiting for a gent, I saw. The man spoke to her and she to him, but the man went past with a shake of his head. I knew that he had mistaken her for another. A second man then spoke to her and she smiled and I could easily see that they were friends for she went along the street with him, in the greatest of good humor, taking his arm and chatting.

The shoe man told me later that her name was Chippy. I thought it an odd name, but suited her, for she was not an ordinary woman.

CHAPTER TWO

I have recounted the mortification of my twelfth year and the shameful way I was had. Trust me then to watch each step and keep from the grasp of such as Mr. Blunt and Charley. It is true that Mr. Blunt was not one to shrink from advances, though he had a wife to his bed, and I averted my gaze when I passed his shop knowing that he winked at me. He would call to me when no one was near and invite me for a sip of something.

"I'll do y' no harm, girl, come sit and talk with an old friend. Is the rash gone?"

I told him civilly it was.

"Yer a pretty gal, Nelly. As delights the eye to see an' you shouldn't keep an old friend at a distance, wot would yer father think?"

"'Tis true we're friends, Mr. Blunt, but only in a business way-"

"We're more than that, girl," with a leer and a sly poke if I would let him. "Come an' have a cup o' summat. Just to pass the time."

I looked in the shop and saw no one. "I-er-must-"

"Oh, come along, girl. I'll do ye no harm. What am I, a monster?" A laugh, and a cackle.

"Oh now sir, I didn't say that."

"Well, come in a bit." He took my arm and led me inside, to the now familiar back room. I heard the lock click and turned in alarm, but Mr. Blunt laughed and opened the door quickly to show it was unlocked. I thought it clicked again as he shut it, but it was not seemly to inquire again and again into a thing.

The same familiar couch. He plunked me down on it and took up a bottle of dingy color and shook it near his ear. "There, isn't that a deal better?"

"I shouldn't stay, sir."

He laughed and looked at me under the dark brows. "Only enough for the business, huh? You're a dolly gal, right enough. If I 'adn't had you before I'd say it-"

"Oh, please sir," I said and rose instant. "If you have asked me here to insult me I must go at once."

He pulled me to his lap. "You're a plucky miss all right." He chuckled and his hand slipped up my thigh like a fox into a hole. I was miffed and near speechless at his audacity. Oh, why did I come to this odious place?

I found myself flat on my thin shoulders, and he with his powerful hands had my legs apart. I screamed as I knew the consequences of his act. The degradation! But naught would faze him, for he was hissing in breath and trembling, as I could see quite easily-my eyes were wide with horror. And the thing entered me, oh dishonor, and he pushed it so that I near doubled up with the stroking and pummeling he gave me all at once.

"Spare me, sir," I quavered, helpless in his relentless and voracious agitation. His face was red and perspiry, and his dark eyes held a wild look as he flogged my quim with that meaty prong that inflamed him so.

"Bless my soul," he said, "I'd clean forgot what a tidy poking you give a man. We must come to this oftener pretty Nell. I'll gi' your father a shave free, you tell 'im that, eh?"

"Oh, sir-how can you speak of my father and sully my body in one breath?"

"Yer a dear girl." He rammed me, oh yes, thwacking my bare bottom with the maddening slitherings I deplored. I felt the heinous organ of his sex embedded and jolting me and 'twas necessary for me once again to put down the abashing thoughts that rose as a result of such wicked thrustings.

Dear Jesus, forgive me, for I entertained, in my moment of helpless madness, a thought of pleasure for which I pray my soul be not forfeit. A flaw that I seemingly cannot drive from my being rose to this abandoned occasion to lave my heated brain with sinful ecstasy. I deny it not, for I pray each night that Heaven be allowed me though I clearly am not worthy.

"You 'ad one, girl," Mr. Blunt said to me when my brain cleared. "You 'ad a boot, you did. Lor' love us, you do take on!"

"Oh, please, sir-" I was addled, for nothing had happened to me like that whirl of sinfumess. I knew it must be reproachful for churchly things cannot hold that measure of delirium and fever. My poor head reeled with the sensation and my body jerked in drenching torture which I could not, for the soul of me, prevent. Oh, the evil of it! Mr. Blunt merely leered down and his tantalizing tool never ceased its frolic within me, wanton fellow that he was.

"Have another," Mr. Blunt hissed, belaboring me with energy. "We'll make a lady of you, Missy, a real fancy gal-" I twisted and thrust back, seeking in my innocence to unseat him, but 'twas impossible for a mere slip of a girl to do such a thing. He laughed at my energies and added to them, assaulting me and pumping me lustfully with that spear which caused me such anguish.

Oh, roguish fate! Oh, convulsing, fiery throbbings! What had I come to? Evil pressed down upon me and I could only writhe against its clutching tentacles. The Devil himself lay on me, driving into me indecently, forcing me into spasms of abandonment. Was this Hell itself opening before me? This heat, this luxury, these smothered sighs?

I screamed again, knowing that my body was harassed by multiple sensuous images. How I tingled, how I writhed in paroxysms of lecherous and voluptuous bliss-tainted as well to be true, but powerless. The Devil shouted in my ear and held me down, his hoofs and terrible claws raked my living soul.

My lewd passion spent itself slowly as I cried aloud; great tears of pain and sorrow wet the couch upon which I lay in near nude abandon. And Mr. Blunt, his agitation rising, rammed and plunged in me, hissing and panting so wildly that I feared for my white body, though his truncheon never faltered and drove within the walls of its prison.

He could not speak, so great was his animal lust. He sated himself on me, I know it and my confusion grew with each moment that passed.

"Oh Jezus," he shouted all at once and I winced, hearing the profane tenor of his voice. "Oh Jezus in heaven, Christ a-mighty-" And then he fell to battering me and wheezing and bouncing and pounding at my loins and pumping like the Horned One smacked his rump with forked tail. I had to open my legs wide for the ordeal fired me again, Oh my soul! What a wicked girl I was!

I know that an hour passed ere I was well and able to go from the shop, with Mr. Blunt leering at me and smacking his lips.

"Oh, you're a one, Missy, you're a one! Hot as the hinges, you are, girl. Come back now and give ol' Judd Blunt a taste o' that heaven you got, hear me?"

But I hurried home, disgraced and humiliated by the awful things of his back room. Bearing in my mind's eye the sight of his rampant organ attacking me, oh gracious what a horrid sight! I prayed and prayed and bathed my flaming face to rid the sights and smells of that lewd encounter, though the images remained in spite of all I could do to eradicate them. 'Twas the hand of God reminding me of my derelictions.

The Devil tempts us all, as Reverend Twistle often says. Each of his blessed sermons brought me nearer peace, for I could not dare to tell of my ignominy to Mums or to father. My days were colored by my sin, and I stumbled here and there, thinking of the misery Mr. Blunt's thrustings had brought me. How often I passed his shop, looking at him from a distance, the ordeal fresh in my mind! The devotee of the Devil. Why did such evil thoughts collect where I could least abide them? Mr. Blunt leered at me when I passed, head down. He called to me to come have a drought with him, but never again could I trust his inciting voice. He was a magnet which I skirted.

Oh, what should I do to ease myself of this terrible strain? I bethought myself of Mr. Twistle, the kindly man of God. I went to his study, knocking timidly on the door. He worked in a tiny house behind the church, and opened the door to greet me with surprise in his brown and smiling eyes.

"Ah, Nell, 'tis pleased I am to see you. Come in, girl, come in."

I went inside, looking about the study, though I had been there before. It was a warm place of desk, fireplace and books, with papers strewn about as the Reverend had been working on a sermon. There was a picture of our blessed Sovereign and a vase of flowers with sprigs of some golden stuff with buds upon it, and inkpots and the gas was burning merrily.

"What can I do that brings you here?" he asked me and sat me down on a curved couch that faced his stool. He was a smallish man, smaller than Mr. Blunt, with a nearly bald pate and dancing eyes and I knew I could confide in him, and I had made a good choice.

"You know Mums is sick," I said as a start, and he nodded for he had called on her often to bless and comfort her, good man as he was. And well regarded in the neighborhood. "A girl must tell her thoughts-"

"Of course," he said and leaned forward to pat my folded hands.

I took heart at once, and hurried on with my humble story. I related my misery and my downfall at the hands of Charley and with the helping tool of Mr. Blunt. My eyes were cast down in the telling for I could not bear to meet his cheerful smile or the reproach that I knew he would exhibit.

"Ah there, girl," he said with another kind pat. "You aren't the first, you know."

I looked at him then, thinking that his eyes were bright for a cleric's, in that delicate turn, but naturally I was wrong. He was a kindly man.

"Come here, child," he said and moved his stool very near to caress my head with his soft hands. "You are a sensitive child. With your mother ill and all, why did not you tell your father?"

I mentioned my reasons and he nodded. "Ah yes, you are no doubt right in that. Your father has a terrible temper a'right, I have seen it. And he would undoubtedly end in gaol if he sought out either." He patted my head and ruffled my brown hair fondly. "We don't want that, do we?"

Father in gaol! I could not bear the thought and almost cried. He knew how I thought on this and caressed my head and shoulders with his hands and his voice was soft in my ear.

"Fear not, Nelly, your father is a good man, the best, and I know."

"So he is, sir."

"Very good to you and Mums, is he not?"

"Oh yes, sir, and Millie."

He sighed, I heard him sigh. "Yes, Millie."

I looked at him. "Has she been to see you, sir?"

"Not her, she's a quick one." He patted my head. "Now we must absolve you, my dear. Your fears must be allayed and you must go from here with your mind at ease again. Tell me exactly how he did this terrible thing."

"Mr. Blunt?"

He nodded. He pushed me gently back upon the couch. "He laid you down like this, is that right?"

"Oh yes, sir. And opened my legs." I blushed to the ears to tell this intimate thing. And then I found the Reverend between my legs and I was surprised and stared at him.

"Do not fear, lass," he said soothingly. "It is a well known approbrium of science and philosophy that a hurt is made less fulsome if we know the extent of that hurt. We must visit this profligate thing together and I promise you 'twill fade from your memory and you will smile again." He patted my cheek and smiled winsomely.

"Can that be true, sir?"

"Am I not a man of God?"

I blushed to doubt him. My knees opened and he came very close. I drew in my breath heatedly for his two hands were busy drawing aside my underpants and I could feel his saintly fingers where those familiar thrustings had fevered me.

"Oh my goodness, sir," I gasped.

"Patience, girl. Philosophy is never wrong and we must follow the practices of the holy ancients. Relax your nether muscles, ah, yes, you are a dutiful girl-oh yes!"

I felt a great and warm something enter me in that secret place. I gasped, feeling it and knowing the surge of it, skewering me to the depths till it touched the frantic place where my writhings began. I was pale.

"Oh Father," the Reverend Twistle bowed his head and motioned me to close my eyes, "this girl has sinned in Thy eyes and we ask Thy forgiveness-" I was sighing and panting, for the pleasure his words gave me. The long thruster inside me moved with each word, in and out so smoothly, deep and warm, fusing with me as the Reverend clasped his hands and spoke on: "With Thy wholesome and loving organ, cleansing this maid with the selfsame quest that poisoned her, we beg Thy everlasting and precious boon of love."

I could not help but sigh aloud. Oh what peace his beautiful words brought me. I knew I was being cleansed and the feeling flooded me so that I joined his supple movements, feeling more joyous each moment. I brought my palms together in prayer and he nodded approvingly.

"Though we walk in the valley of sin, we are yet free of taint and reside in the shadow of Thy redeeming love."

"Oh," I moaned, "I feel fluttery-"

"Shhhh," he warned and brushed the hair from my feverish brow. "Do not speak. Let us pray with our bodies." He mumbled, almost inaudibly, and the tool inside me moved smoothly, a ballet of everlasting love, and I could not help but writhe beneath him for the power of the Lord was great.

I can have no very exact idea of our prayer, for I was convulsed again and again by the immense love and sheer passion of the Lord pressing upon my wilting body. The Reverend Twistle quailed not from his duties, but assailed my quiff as a soldier of the Truth, driving the demon from it frothily. And in the process bequeathing me the pleasure of prayer. I prayed as I have never prayed before.

At last, when the convulsing duty had weakened him, the Reverend's energy failed and he fell forward upon my breast, breathing a last prayer and bucking under the deed which he had accomplished.

It took him much time to gain again his composure, so energetically had he worked in my behalf. Withdrawing the piercing tool, he sat me up again and smoothed my dress, kissing me decorously on the forehead.

"The Lord be with you," he said sweetly.

"Am I cured?" I asked.

He shook his head sadly and came to hold my two hands again. "You have suffered grievous sin, my child. We cannot dissuade the Satanic One so quickly."

I bit my lip. "What must I do, sir?"

"We must not aid the Devil in his work." He put his finger to my lips. "Silence is the watchword. Say nothing to a mortal soul of what has passed here this day. The Devil has ways of undermining a saint, you know this, do you not?"

I nodded vigorously.

He smiled and patted my cheek fondly. Lowering his voice, he almost whispered and I leaned forward to catch each precious word. "We will meet again to confound the blackguard. When you come to choir practise I will speak to you then." He pulled me gently to my feet. "How do you feel, my child?"

I took a deep breath, "Oh, so much better, sir. You have done me a world of good already."

"Your soul," he said softly. "We are saving your soul."

I nodded, "Yes, of course, sir. I mean that."

"Cleansing from within. Philosophy, my child." I smiled. Philosophy was wonderful. It did ease the mind so. I went from his study walking on air, so convinced was I that sin was falling from me like leaves from an apple tree in winter.

It bore on me hard withal, to see how Millie carried on with Charley Dartle. I came upon them by the side of the house after the gas was lit. They squirmed in the deep shadow of the brick wall and I caught the sheen of her wicked bare legs and saw the surge of their lustful bodies as they sought release for the wantonness. Perhaps I should have accosted them and begged them to seek the solace of Reverend Twistle, but I remembered his kind and firm words to say nothing of the cure.

I loved my sister and wanted to aid her to find the peace and joy of philosophy, and determined to query Reverend Twistle on that subject when next we met.

I was able to pass Mr. Blunt with fearless eyes in the days that followed. Though he spoke to me in words that singed my cheeks with red and caused me acute embarrassment that another should overhear him, I did not again attend his couch and bear the disgrace of his plunging member.

CHAPTER THREE

My most unhappiest year came now, when Mums died. Twos a time of tears and recriminations and Father could not be consoled for his grief bowed him. I felt so sorry for him that my face was pale from tears for him as much as the cold clay that had been Mums.

We laid her to rest in the hard dirt of the churchyard and came away from there slowly, Millie too being subdued and holding to Charley Dartle's hand, and him looking at me over the top of her head.

Though 'twas a solemn occasion with red wine and all for the soul, I still could not bear to face Charley. I was yet engaged with the Reverend Twistle in cleansing my soul from his last attack on my quim. I was near to fifteen, and rounded out as everyone said. Even the Reverend Twistle remarked on my roundness-in a churchly way, of course.

He had the best chance to see that roundness, for it was pressed close to him several times each week.

My breasts were budding. How I had envied Millie who sported two lovely bumps of flesh to point the way when she walked, and who always made much of them with rounded necks of dresses, too low for the sermon. But mine were blooming and swelling, and though I shamed to touch them or stare at them more than seemly, I could not help but wash my body and to feel them then. I knew they would be Millie's envy one day.

I saw her staring at them now and then, and looking at me with a curious expression on her vixen face, wondering no doubt the girlish things, but she said nothing.

It was different when Mums was gone. The little house was colder and though she had been sick and bedridden, still her presence filled the rooms. Now 'twas like a storm had blown through and left the place a draughty house and not a home at all. I pined for her.

And I discovered soon that my home was not a place of safety for me. There once had been only a day or so a week that Charley Dartle would leer and sidle toward me -when Millie was not home and he came to wait for her -but now each day I feared that he would possess me, force me to the couch and have his way.

"Oh you're a tidy bit," he would say, licking his lips. "Come on, give us a kiss, eh?"

"What a shameful fellow you are," I would tell him, "Come to call on my dear sister and making eyes at me!"

"But 'tis all in the family, ay, Nelly?"

"It is not. Go your way, Charley Dartle. You shall not have me again."

But he did. He looked so fine in his red coat and buttons. When he stood before me I quite forgot that he had something extra beneath those black pantaloons, and that spike panting for me. He fell upon me and though I screamed he had me hard and fast, hissing and writhing and pounding at my tender nest.

He was a slick one, Charley, with much experience naturally-with my own loving sister. Charley could get it in a girl as fast as a pickpocket could get into a purse. I felt the speed of his striking snake, darting into me and stuffing me full. Oh, insolent soldier!

"Wriggle, girl, wriggle," he said and laughed, pronging me harder than the Reverend Twistle. "You give a man a fuck he won't forget-"

"A what?" I said, even though my position would not bear public gaze.

"A fuck," he said in some surprise. "What did you think this is?" And he rammed his wanton rod into me hard and bottomed it.

"I-I did not know," I quavered, and I did not. "Is it a seemly word?"

"The best there is," he grinned at me. "Next time I enter you must say to me, 'Fuck me, Charley,' and I will."

My face grew red to hear such words, for I knew then what he meant. I begged him not to cringe my soul with his blasphemies. I was a sheltered miss.

But fuck me he did, and I could not prevent. Though I cried and teared, he yet had his way, then he helped me to dry the tears.

"Yer a sweet lass," he said and kissed my cheek. "Ye'll find me no crochety fellow if you let, and not scream like a banshee when I come near."

I was mollified somewhat, for he was sweet to me afterward and smoothed my hair and helped to rearrange my skirt lest Millie enter and see.

"What can I do but scream when you jump me so?" I said.

"I jus' can't help it," he made a bright face at which I laughed. "You flame me and make it hard-" I bit my lip, "Please-"

"Jezus, girl, what else to say? If you make a man hard, you make him hard. Yer a pretty, round thing, Nell Widdicomb, with an ass-"

"Oh, Charley!"

He leaned toward me and his face squeezed up in a knowing leer. "You've got an ass that Millie would want, and you only fourteen."

"Fifteen."

"Oh? Izzat so, lass?" He pursed his lips, looking at me. "Give us another fuck then, huh?"

I got up and ran. The impertinence of him.

Alas, I had to confess to Reverend Twistle that I had backslid again. 'Twas not my fault, I told him, for I struggled mightily but he was stronger and had me though I screamed loudly.

"Ah, then we'll have to cleanse you more," he nodded sagely. "'Tis plain the Devil has his eye on you-"

"On me, sir!"

He hastened to reassure me. "Fear not, Nelly, 'tis only a figure of speech and no harm will come to you from him, not while I espouse your cause. But we must meet oftener to cleanse your fount of passion, for 'tis hard to stay even with sin, let alone best it."

He was right, of course. "Perhaps," I suggested, "I should go to the barracks and make them keep Charley Dartle from me-"

"You must not," he told me instant.

"But we must remove sin," I was confused.

"Ah yes, but trust me, girl. I see now that the Black Heart has placed Charley Dartle to act as tempter to you. We must build you strong to resist that temptation, and if we do 'twill cease to tempt others, cannot you see that, Nell?"

"Oh, yes sir." I did not, but I knew that complex things did always puzzle my mind.

"We will do mankind a service and yourself too."

"You are so good."

"It is my mission," he said, "now, come with me here, and lie on yon couch." He kissed my forehead. I went supine and we engaged again in that most pulsating tryst which ended in multiple spasms of redeeming love.

I began to realize now that it might take years to cleanse me of the sin put there by Charley Dartle and Mr. Blunt. But as the Reverend Twistle said, I was a soldier of the Lord and would march into the fray stout and confident, and joyous.

And when we were finished, I said to the brave cleric: "Thank you for the fuck," and he fell back, pale and astonished.

"Oh Nelly! Where did you...?"

My face undoubtedly showed him the error of the word.

He breathed deeply and took my hands which were trembling, as were his. "You must not say such a thing, Nell, my dear."

"Not thank you?"

He shook his head impatiently. "You must not say the terrible word-" He took a deep breath, "Fuck."

I bit my lip.

"It is a bad word," he said softly. "Never say it again. Promise me."

I hung my head and promised. Oh, that Charley Dartle!

There came the day when I had to leave school. For lack of funds. Father told me, as best he could for it was hard upon him, I knew it, that I must seek employment to help out in the house. We were growing girls and needed many things, not only food. With heavy heart, I agreed to go at once, for pennies were hard to come by; even Millie agreed on that.

And then, one other thing occurred. My father looked at me and his face grew red. I wondered at him, but he sat me down when we were alone.

"I must talk to you, now that you're growin' up, gal."

"Yes, Father?"

"There's things a gal should-know. A-well, a man and a woman--" I nodded brightly and looked at him, which seemed to discomfort him.

He took a breath. "Did Mums speak to you of-well, of men and girls together?"

"No, Father."

"I see, yes. Well there's things, see. A girl and a fellow, and you're a girl-well, you should know this."

I could not imagine what he meant.

"Do you have a young feller?"

"No, Father."

"I see. Yes. 'tis a proper fiddling thing," he swatted his knee in annoyance. "A man just can't look at ye-" He took another breath and started anew. "Now, Nelly, there's things a man will do with a girl."

I smiled. "Yes, Father?"

"He pets her, see? Maybe he kisses her."

"Oh, please, Father." I hung my head.

I heard his deep breath. "Well, gal, I see you know about kissin'."

"Mums kissed me, Father."

"Yes, 'course she did." He paused. "You're sure she didn't tell you nothing?"

"About kissing, Father? No, not a word."

"I didn't mean that."

"Oh."

"D'you know how babies come, Nell?"

I frowned. "Not a great deal, Father. They never said that in school-"

"A course they wouldn't. 'tis not a proper thing."

"If it's not proper, then I don't want to know."

He sighed. "All right, gal." He rose and went into the kitchen, leaving me on the stool before his chair. "Remember I tole you, and when you've a young man, come to me. Hear?"

"Yes, Father."

"Yer a sweet child, Nelly, and too pure for this world. Now Millie-" He sighed and I heard him open a bottle. So I knew that Millie worried him.

I got employment quite soon, selling artificial flowers. I answered an ad pinned on a lamppost in Brompton Street, which directed me to a mews not far away. In an office the size of a barley box, I met Mr. Duncan Linke and curtsied to him on entering.

"Bless m'soul!" he said.

I thought he stared quite more than usual, but of course as a prospective hireling I would be looked at and took no offense. I wore my best cotton frock with crinoline and a cloak against the wind. I had a pork pie hat with ribbon, and my brown hair was neat.

"I've come in answer to the ad," I said as simply as I could. He sat behind a box with a stack of pasteboards before him and some coppers and a quill. There was a gas jet over his head and deep shadows under his small eyes.

"Oh yes, the ad." He smiled and he had a tight mouth with ivory teeth like a bulldog. He glanced about as though looking for a place to put something, then grimaced at me. "There ain't no chair, love."

"I don't mind standing, sir."

"Don't you, though." He shuffled the pasteboards absently, looking at me in a curious way, I thought. He continued to lick his lips; they were thin and pink.

"Won't I do, sir?"

"Oh, you'll do grand, love. Grand." He grimaced again. "It's just that I was 'pectin' a older gal, like. How old're you, love?"

"Sixteen," I said, hoping the white lie would not rest too heavy on my soul. 'Twas for a good cause.

"Ah, sixteen-" He cocked his head to stare at my ankle. Then at my budding bosom. I noticed that his small eyes were never still; they rolled or shifted from side to side quickly and moved about as though seeing everything to be seen. Fleeting expressions crossed his round face, as though thoughts chased one another there. If they were indeed thoughts, I feared that he and Charley Dartle shared opinions, but of course he did not know Charley.

"Did yer ever sell flowers afore?"

I said I had not.

"Well never mind. 'tis not a game hard to learn. We'll learn ye, you look an apt lass. Do ye live at home?"

"Yes, with my father."

"Umm. Is 'e a big man?"

"Yes, very large." I wondered about why he asked.

"Hum hum. Well, ye'll learn through Cora Pearl, me own wife. Can ye work at night, girl? Wot's yer name?"

"Nell." I paused at that-work at night? "Work where, sir?"

"On a street corner, 'course. Where else? Wot does yer pa do?"

"He's a brushmaker. What street corner?"

"'Ow do I know? You pick yer corner, lass. Where you does best. The theatre crowd is a chummy one up in Haymarket."

"Ohhhh." I had heard of Haymarket. They said it was wicked. "I don't know, sir. Father may not allow-"

"You kin work in the hafternoons then." He gave me one of his grimace-smiles. "You're a comely lass, Nell. You'll do well. Come, we'll go to Cora Pearl; she'll tell you the lay."

Cora Pearl lived in a shanty behind the office and we entered through a tunnel-like hall that was dim lighted by only a jet at either end and smelly, as cabbage and horse dung from the street filtered in through the cracks. I held my nose and followed after, wondering if I was diving into a nest of smugglers.

Mr. Linke took my hand and pulled me along, him breathing hard and slipping one hand about my waist. I moved sideways to keep the hand off my tits. Oh you, Mr. Linke! He chuckled and patted my rump which made me jump.

Cora Pearl was fortyish and blonde with a rinse for her roots were black as sin. She wiped her nose with a finger and smiled at me in astonishment.

"See wot I've brought, love," Mr. Linke said in a jovial voice. "Nell's 'er name and she's pretty as a florin, lives with 'er father."

"Well, b'Gawd," Cora Pearl said, looking me up and down. She reached over and pinched my cheek, "Oh yes, Gawd, a comely lass, yes, yes, yes."

"Please to meet you, ma'am," I said.

"Eddication too," Mr. Linke said. "Been to school an' all. College like. Can you count, lass?"

"Oh, indeed."

"Jezus, me beads," Cora Pearl said in surprise. "Maybe our luck's changed, Dunk. This'n is a silver-mounted-"

"Watch them words," Mr. Linke said, lifting a flat finger. "We got us a special gal, here."

"Hum, yeh. You ever sell flowers, Nelly?"

"No mum."

"You show 'er the ropes, love." Mr. Linke ducked back to his box-office. He scurried along the hall-tunnel then suddenly popped out again, his round face like a bulldog's in the yellow light. He grimaced at Cora Pearl. "Treat 'er right, love."

I saw Cora Pearl wink at him.

She was a jolly girl, woman I mean. She wore an old wool dress that was a Scottish tartan once, and her frizzly hair was uncombed, but she patted it down with her hands.

"We lives in a different place, Nelly, this'n is only temporary. Convenience, you know."

I never saw their other place, but I know it was better for they had little but hand-me-downs and things found in this one. It smelled and it was icy at night-from the feel of it now. Draughts hissed across the room and Cora Pearl only hitched the tartan close across her narrow shoulders and punched at the fire in the black grate.

She showed me the artificial flowers which she bought from a woman in Blackfriars Street, and told me the prices and showed me how to peddle.

"You sidles up to the men, lass, not the gals. You says, "Ave a posy, mister?' like that. 'Ha' penny the throw.' Can you do that?"

It was very easy.

"You puts the posy in their lapels, if they lets you," she said. "Be sure you tries to put the posy in their lapels. You hear me?"

"Oh yes, mum."

"They gives you a extra ha'penny sometimes, lass."

"Just for putting it in-?"

"Men is ver' generous," she said with a knowing wink. "Pretty gal like you, she can make a ha'penny a hour if she wants. Mebbe more." She looked at me in a critical way. "But then, you're a nice girl, anyone can see that."

"I don't understand."

"I means," Cora Pearl said in a conspiratorial voice, "That some gals, they lets the gennelmen have theirselves a tiny feel."

"But it's their flower."

She shook her head quickly. "Not the f-er-the flower, girl. They feels you. You."

I drew in my breath. "Oh. Goodness mum! I couldn't do that!"

She sighed. "Yuh, I knew it." She brightened in a bit though and finally gave me a flower to take home to my father. I was to meet Cora Pearl the next day and we would take up station on a corner and she would cue me. I was looking forward to it with excitement. My first job!

My father stared at me when I told him. "Selling artificial flowers, Nell! Wot've you been up to?"

"Nothing, Father."

He sat and looked at the tiny bit of cloth. "I wants you should be very careful, Nell. Them flower girls is notorious. Notorious."

"For what, Father?"

"For bein'-well, for bein'-" He licked his lips. "They do things a simple, sweet gal like you don't know about."

"Selling flowers?"

"Bein' whores," he almost yelled. "God amighty, don't you know nothink?"

I burst out crying and he rushed to comfort me. I knew that whores were terrible, painted women, for I had heard men discuss the ilk in terms that were hardly seemly and had made me blush. Surely Cora Pearl was not a whore, because she was not rich at all and surely painted women haunted the music halls and divans and expensive saloons. At least the men said they did. I was sure that they would know.

I promised Father that I would go at once if any man accosted me with an indecent proposal and hurry home to lock myself in. Then I went after supper to choir practise and after that to the couch with Reverend Twistle to battle the Devil. We had a very exciting battle.

I found that selling artificial flowers was a very pleasant task. Cora Pearl took me in hand, fluttery as a mother hen and very careful of my decorum. She found me a street corner where people flowed past and hansoms clattered along the cobbles all busy and bustling. Even street musicians strolled along and men winked at me, though I gave them no encouragement.

And Mr. Linke was there, walking past but never glancing at me as though he knew who I was.

"Don't gi' him a look, Nell. Pretend you're strangers and 'e'll guard you from ill. Should a swain attempt a familiar thing, Dunk'll be there with 'is fists, mind that."

I thought it was very considerate of him. I did wonder a bit why he dressed in different coats and hats but he knew his business I was sure.

I had a tray of flowers, and sidled as Cora Pearl had taught me, to gent after gent. "Have a posy, sir? Pretty posies, sir?"

A few bought, and many did not. Then Cora Pearl took me aside, she had been watching.

"The swells, see dearie? The swells is the ones wi' the money. Don't waste yer time with them nothings."

She pointed out the cut of their clothes and the newness, and I began to get the idea. Cora Pearl also told me to smile. 'Twas a good thing, for I sold out my tray in an hour. She was very happy.

We worked thus till day began to fade, and went back to the office in the mews. Mr. Linke was there before us, smiling like a bulldog.

"Yer a good lass, Nelly. Ye learn like a vet'ran. I've a mind t'gi' you ha'penny more."

"Careful, Dunk," Cora Pearl said.

"Ah, she's a good gal."

"She is that." Cora Pearl patted my rump, forgetting and begging my pardon. But I saw her wink at her husband and he took out a packet and laid it on the box.

"A fine haul-" He looked at me. "I runs a second 'and trade on the side, like." He nodded and jerked his head and Cora Pearl slipped a shilling into my fist.

"Off with ye, gal," she said with a friendly smile. "T'morra we'll show 'em."

I went out, clutching the shilling, hearing them exclaim over the secondhand goods on the box. Mr. Linke also dealt in wallets, I noticed. Perhaps I could purchase one for Father's Christmas present, at a reasonable figure, to be sure. But at least, I was a working girl.

Father was pleased with the shilling, and I explained how Mr. Linke protected me by being close at all times. He nodded and I was reassured, for I would not displease him.

The second day I was more experienced. I sold my flowers briskly. "Have a posy sir? A posy for a fine gentleman? Posies, sir, for the lady?"

Cora Pearl beamed from her position in an alcove where she kept a ready supply of artificial flowers.

"Oh yer doin' mighty, my dear. I never seen a lass do them flow'rs like that. You got a knack fer it, Nell."

"I like flowers, mum."

"Sure, it shows." She patted my rump. "Oh, I beg your parding."

And Mr. Linke was there, close by. As the day went on, I noticed that whenever I sold to a special fine gentleman, Mr. Linke came quite close and often brushed up against him. Sometimes as by accident. Once or twice I looked close at Mr. Linke to see if he had partaken of spirits. But he had not. He winked at me, forgetting that he must not know me in our game.

There was a rumpus down the street and a policeman ran to the spot. A fine gentleman was shouting that he had lost his wallet. "I had it a moment ago, sir!"

I would have gone close to see the excitement but Cora Pearl called to me to stay. And soon after that we went away and returned to the mews. I was shocked to think that a pickpocket had worked his sinful trade so close to me and hoped that he had not singled out my wares for his next foray.

When I hurried home with my shilling clutched in my hand, I was frightened lest some footpad accost me to grab it away. We needed it so at home.

Let me say a word now about Millie, my sweet sister. She was nearly nineteen and a woman grown. She worked yet at the house of the swells, leaving each morning for there and carrying a small handbag with her uniform in it I asked her once why she did not leave the uniform at the house, but she merely looked at me strangely and did not answer. Once further, I looked into the bag when she was out walking with a friend, only to see if I could iron or darn a thing for her, and found no uniform-but a frilly dress and beads. I was astonished, but assumed that she did but hold them overnight for someone. Millie had many friends.

She had given up Charley Dartle, thank the Lord. "He 'as no money," she said one evening, when I asked her through idle curiosity. "None of them sodjers has."

Millie and I had grown apart, for I was working each afternoon and sometimes in the forenoon if the day was right. I went to choir practise dutifully, and frequently my evenings were taken with the Reverend Twistle, for we still kept the Satanic monster at a distance through our ministrations. And prayers.

I was astonished to see Millie one afternoon as I called my simple wares on a street corner. She walked past on the opposite side of the street wearing a reddish merino gown and a cloak, with a feather in her hat like the mysterious lady of St. Giles Lane whom I had admired so.

Millie did not see me at first; then I thought she noticed me and I would have crossed the street to greet her when all at once she recognized a friend and flew away along the street. I was disappointed to miss her, for I was all of a curiosity to know of her fine clothes and why she was not at work.

At home that night she avoided me, and when at last I asked the question that had plagued me, she said only that I should not be nosey. She was hateful and I desisted, fearing a storm and Father not in a mood to cope with us.

Dear Father had taken to his moods. Of late he had come to the hearth smelling of brew and walking less than straight, though I dared not mention the fact. Him and Millie did not get on. She rubbed him the wrong way and he her. It had always been so, for Millie was a headstrong girl as I have spoke.

I was not surprised then, when Millie moved to some other place and did not return home. Father brooded, but disclaimed to me, in his cups, that Millie was full growed and could do as she pleased and to hell with us. He did say those awful words, and I fear he was distraught.

"She's no good girl as you are, Nelly-"

"Oh, Father, do not say that." I defended her for was she not my own dear sister?

He grumbled and swore under his breath and I turned away lest I hear the things he said.

After that, I saw Millie now and again, and she seemed to care not that I saw her. She was wearing frill clothes with her hair powdered and with paint upon her face. Cora Pearl came upon me as I stared at her.

"Ah, don't be starin' at them fancy women, Nell," she said, pulling my arm.

"Fancy women?"

"Sportin' gals," Cora Pearl said in my ear. "They makes their mush with their-come along, Nelly."

I went, and now I knew about Millie. I knew what a sporting girl was, had I not heard the talk? Oh, it depressed me so. My sister Millie a rouged whore of the streets. Degradation had come to our family. When I saw the Reverend Twistle that same evening I told him what I knew.

"Ah me, Nell," he said, "that selfsame thing happens and be a brave lass. Millie could not help the way she was-"

"Do not speak of her as dead, sir."

"I meant no ill thing. But she is dead to you and I and the church and your father. She is a fallen woman, bless her soul, and I will pray for her. Alas, I warned her-"

"Did you, sir?"

"Ah, many a time. She came to me even as you came, Sweet Nell, asking the questions of life."

"Oh," I said. "I did not know."

"She was a fine lay-er-fine to pray with her, and e'en though it did no good I still have memories of her."

I had not thought that Millie had questions of life to ask, and I was surprised, but the Reverend was a man of good, so I did not press him further. But I was glad to hear that Millie had qualms, even as I; it made her more human and not so spiteful.

And so the Reverend and I prayed for her, kneeling by our couch. Then removing my shift and shoes, we had at it for an hour. It was a gallant fight we made and I went away satisfied that the Devil was set back in his evil tracks by our ardour at the fray.

So went by my sixteenth year. It had its ups and downs, but an even tenor in the main. I was getting on with the artificial flowers and had graduated to selling trinkets and baubles too, of which Mr. Linke seemed to have a plenty. My stipend rose to two shillings each day, and Father drank more. Poor Father. He had so many problems.

He lost his job, through worry, and though Millie sent him a penny now and then, he depended on me for his beer. 'Twas sad to see him stagger along the dusky street to our darkened domicile. My heart went out to him in his grief for the death of Mums.

Alas, Father, come home with me now.

CHAPTER FOUR

By the start of my seventeenth year I was very knowing and sophisticated. Had I not walked the wicked Haymarket district with my flowers? With Cora Pearl close behind, and Mr. Linke hard by? Yes, I had.

I knew the look of the fancy men, the sporting women and the divans, the music halls and the Piccadilly flagstones. Ah, those women, with the pallor of death upon them! The rouge and the curse upon their lips, the shameless invitations and the song. Whitewashed creatures that they were, I still pitied them, for my own sweet sister Millie was of their ilk. And I had not realized the sin that the world contains. Cora Pearl had taught me the ways of the cops, and how to smile in all innocence. I did it well, she said, for I was innocence.

"I never seen a ducky like you," she would say. "Pure as the driven-Bless m'soul, Nell, yer worth a million."

It was true that Cora Pearl and Mr. Linke were not the down-at-heels couple that they had been, and Mr. Linke was quick to cite his investments.

"A gent c'n make a copper now'n then with the right connections." He would slap my bottom if I let him, which I did not if I could avoid. His beady eyes rolled from side to side, never missing nothing for he was very quick and smart. He would point out the swells with a nod of his head and a jerk of his thumb.

And it was while we were thus engaged that I met Harry Winfield. Oh, dear Harry!

Mr. Linke had jerked his thumb at a swell who approached me on the sidewalk. He was a man all in pearl gray and ascot tie and topper, with a cane and looking so magnificent that I scarce dared to curtsy, but I knew that if I did not Cora Pearl would hiss at me. So I did. "A posy sir, a gay little posy for your-"

"Nothing child."

He had a deep voice and a ruddy look about him as though he spent time in the sun or the tennis courts or in other admirable pursuits. From the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Linke close by to see that no unbecoming word was said.

"Oh sir, a pretty posy?"

I was brave and stepped in his way, hussy that I had become in trade. He paused and stared at me, blinking his eyes. "Hello-wot have we here?"

"Flowers, sir," I said. "Ha' penny a bunch, sir." He stopped and actually smiled. "Well, you're a lovely wench-flowers, eh?"

I smiled my best and stepped closer that he might see my selection. "Oh, do buy a posy, sir."

"Of course," he said and smiled broadly. And at that moment Mr. Linke lost his footing again, as he did so often, and stumbled against the gentleman. I had noted that he seemed sure-footed as a goat other times, but so great was his concentration on me and my virtue that he often fell against the customers whom I was serving.

The fine gentleman made no sign, and merely shrugged him away. He dropped the coppers in my hand and let me pin the posies to his lapel. I knew his bright blue eyes were near and on me but I grit my teeth and carried on.

And when I was finished and stepped back, he came up to me: "Faith, you're a lovely lass. Do you live nearby?"

"Oh no, sir, I live in-"

"Nelly," said Cora Pearl loudly.

I turned, biting my lip. She had told me evermore to button my tongue to strangers. I had forgot, so blue were his eyes and so limpid his expression.

He looked toward her. "Do you know that scow?"

I flushed. "Do not berate those lower than your station, sir. She is an honest woman and my friend."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I meant no harm. So your name is Nell?"

"How did you know that?"

He smiled and touched my cheek with a long finger. "Ah, you are a minx."

"Nelly, come here," Cora Pearl said quickly. I bowed my head and ran to her dutifully, looking back, a quick peek over my shoulder, to see the gentleman smiling and striding away.

"None o'that," she said, wagging her finger. "Them swells'll 'ave you and toss you out on yer bum."

"Please!"

"Well, 'tis true. Yer a pore gal, Nelly and don't forget it. Us an' the-"

"Police!" a man shouted nearby. "I've been robbed!"

"Gor blimey!" Cora Pearl hissed. "Git along, gal, git along-" I stared round, astonished. The fine gentleman I had served but a moment ago was patting his pockets and shouting. "Police, a policeman-where's a policeman?!"

Cora Pearl pushed me on the rump, but I did not budge. I wanted to see the excitement like everyone else.

"Damme, gal," she swore. "Don't gi' us away-" And she was gone. I had no idea of her odd words, but turned to watch the scene. I looked for Mr. Linke, but he was not about, which thought curious, for he was nosey as a jay.

A policeman appeared, running along the street, and the fine gentleman waved his arms. The two of them conferred as the gentleman patted his pockets and pointed in my direction.

Then he stopped and looked at me. I saw his unwavering gaze fasten upon me; then he smiled. He and the policeman came toward me, and I backed away slowly, frightened. Goodness, were they about to arrest me?

"Stay there, girl," the policeman ordered, waving his club.

The gentleman said something to him and he scowled, twirling the club in a very determined manner.

The gentleman tipped the hat to me. "So 'twas you," he said with a twisted smile. "I might have known."

"'Twas me-what?" I asked, mystified. Did he accuse me of something?

"So you stole my wallet, eh?"

I stepped back in an instant. Aghast. "Stole your wallet, sir?" My hand went to my cheek and my eyes were round as sovereigns.

"These 'ere flower gals, they's got a cheek," the constable said, scowling. "Come on, girlie, up with it."

"With what, sir?"

"The money you stole, you liddle witch!"

I sucked in my breath. "I did no such thing!"

"Half a mo," the gentleman said, raising his hand. He smiled at me. "Who're those you work with, Nell?"

The constable squinted. "You know 'er name, sir?"

"With Cora Pearl, sir," I said. I turned about to find her but she had gone, abashed by all the excitement. She had always been retiring. "I do not see her, sir."

"No, I expect you don't."

"But she had no wallet of yours, sir."

"Hmmm," the gentleman looked at my tray and his finger moved among the flowers, lifting one and pushing another.

I opened my hand and showed him the coppers he had given me, and as the policeman suggested, I opened my tiny purse for their inspection. I had no wallet.

"I 'ave to take you 'long to the station, miss. Come easy now-" The constable took my arm and hustled me. The gentleman followed, looking about. The crowd which had gathered, dispersed at the constable's suggestion, many of them muttering and calling out to me to be of good cheer.

I was very frightened, but I had done nothing wrong and knew they would discover it.

At the station house the fine gentleman patted my hand and reassured me, even as the magistrate glowered and slapped his hand on a railing and demanded I tell him of my perfidy. Then the gentleman said: "I beg you, leave off shouting at this girl for she is innocent. I am convinced she knows nothing of this crime."

And so they let me go. One of the policemen stole a flower from my tray. I cried on finding this out, for Cora Pearl would deduct it from my shillings.

"Do not cry, lass," said the gentleman, "you are free to go."

I told him I knew I was innocent but that now I was the victim, for I had been robbed.

He smiled and dropped a copper into my moist hand. "It is my pleasure to make the tears stop," he said and called a hansom cab and put me in.

"My name is Harry Winfield," he told me as we drove. "It is worth many wallets to find you, Nell, for I have been searching for such a girl as you, lo these many years."

"Searching, sir?" I had never been in a hansom before, and the thrill of it made my heart beat fast so that I could hardly keep track of his words.

"Yes, searching. I wish one day to make such a girl my wife."

"Oh, sir," I said in some confusion. "This is talk that I should not hear from a stranger, I know. I have no mother to hear my prayers, but talk of husbands and wives is not meet so soon."

"You are an orphan?"

"No sir, my father lives, but he is infirm and I must support him."

"Ah," he said. "He needs an operation?"

"I do not know that, sir."

I thought he stared at me strangely, but I have learned that men often look puzzled when we speak, so I did not make a sign of it.

"Your father is sick?" he asked. "But you do not need money for med'cine, or to take him to the country?"

I now stared at him in some puzzlement. He seemed to be testing me, but I could not fathom why. He sighed then, and requested my address, which I gave him. I knew 'twould cause talk if I arrived home in a cab, but I was tired from my ordeal at the police station and prayed that no one would think ill of me.

"I must see you again," Harry said.

"Yes, sir, I sell my flowers every day-"

"No, I mean-er-socially. I wish to see you on a- different basis. May I call upon you?"

That flustered me. "Oh sir, I must ask my father."

"Ask him then."

I curtsied. "Thank you sir, for all you have done. I pray that your wallet will turn up."

He smiled and nodded at me, and I went into the poor house, conscious of its drabness. Inside, I watched through the window as the cab and horses clattered off bearing Harry Winfield. Oh, what bright blue eyes!

Cora Pearl and Mr. Linke were flustered. How surprised I was to see them, fluttering hands and striding up and down. They crowded about me, asking questions so hard and fast that I became confused and begged them to leave off and let me tell the tale as best I could.

"Ye didn't tell them o'us, gal?" Mr. Linke asked.

"No sir, they didn't ask."

"Oh, yer a good gal, Nelly," Mr. Linke said, patting my rump, and jerking his hand away.

"But why should they ask?" I could not imagine.

Cora Pearl harrumphed loudly and motioned her husband out, though he would not go. "This's a gal in a million," she said. "She won't gi' us away-"

"Shush, love," Mr. Linke said.

I looked perhaps curious at them, for Mr. Linke smiled like an eager bulldog and patted his wiry black hair. "The coppers have it in fer us, lassie."

"They thinks they owns the streets," Cora Pearl said.

"They knows we frequents tally shops, love," Mr. Linke said, as though it meant something. "They wants t'do us in. You know how coppers is."

I didn't know at all, but it seemed a complicated thing for my poor head. I went out again the next day with my flowers and baubles, and was sure I saw Harry Winfield pass, but he made me no sign.

And then he called upon me at home-and Father drunk. I was so mortified. Harry was dressed in a black suit and looked like a magistrate and I was in terrible awe of him, which he tried to absolve by his smile.

"Come, let me take you for a trot, Nelly."

He had a carriage outside and I weakened. Were we not acquaintances? We had been to the police together. So I pulled on a bonnet and cloak and we were off down the street like dragoons and I laughed so excited that I had no time to scold him for the kiss he gave my cheek.

We had gone scarce a mile when his arms were about me in the gloom of the carriage and his hands on my tits. Oh, Harry, you are a rogue and a sly fellow!

"You must not take advantage of me, sir, for I am but a simple maid-"

"You're the most beautiful creature I've seen in all my life, Nelly." He said it with passion and I ceased to struggle in his arms for the sheer warmth of it and his sincerity.

"Oh, Mr.-"

"Call me Harry."

"Oh, Harry, you mustn't. What would the parson think?"

"Is he here?"

"Of course not."

"Then when he is, you may tell him." He slipped his wicked hand inside my dress and caught up one tit square on the bare flesh erf it and the nipple tingled like fire. He kissed me then and I nearly swooned.

"My goodness-"

"I'm mad about you, Nelly, mad."

"Goodness, Harry, you take my breath away."

"I think about nothing and no one but you. You've thrust an arrow into my heart. The bloom of you, the precious feel of you-" His hand closed tightly over my naked tit and I squirmed, but it was so warm I had not the heart to snatch the hand from me. It caused me forebodings to feel the pleasure of it, however. Was the Horned One creeping up on me again? Oh, how I attracted sin!

He folded me, cuddled me in his arms, and I had misgivings, thinking of Reverend Twistle and our constant struggle to cleanse me. Surely it was not as sinful to allow Harry this simple joy-not at all like Charley Dartle with his slippery tool always ready. I thought of philosophy and the tiny little grain of consciousness that said to me that cleansing was not only proper and strict, but delightful work as well. The work of the Lord was good to accomplish.

It crossed my mind that if I became too pure, then there would be no reason to cleanse me. On Reverend Twistle's couch.

But thinking of the Reverend and his wonderful, erect and precious organ of absolvement somehow made my cheeks flush. Oh, how pleased I was to note my eagerness to seek out pleasure in prayer. And mutual striving, joined together in service.

"What're you thinking about?" Harry asked me suddenly.

"Fucking," I said without thinking. Then I bit my tongue. How had that awful word come tumbling out?

"Oh my God!" Harry said, almost choking and swallowing and gasping as though I had hit him with a fish. He stared at me. "I can't believe-Jesus love us-are you real or not, minx?"

"I am real enough," I said, burying my head in his chest. Oh, what would he think of me? I was humiliated and flustered. He gathered me up in his strong arms, laughing and chuckling the while.

I thought he would push me from the carriage, but he turned me about and laid me on the leather seats, back to the cold hard corner. Still in confusion, I was as a rag doll in his grasp; my petticoat frothed up and then he was over me and between my legs. I gasped, feeling the familiar position. Oh, Harry, you blue-eyed cad!

"Please, sir!" I cried out, aware all at once that I was being had.

"Shush, girl. 'Twill be over in a moment. You're not a virgin are you?"

I cried. The carriage bounced and rolled. I could see the top of the driver's hat with its black feather nodding. Harry's hands pulled at my underdrawers and I shrilled but it did me no good. The plump meat came at me, I felt it bump and say 'hello'. And then it slid inside.

"Ohhhhh, Harry," I cried, grasping him as he pronged it and rammed it.

"You sweet thing, you lovely piece, you velvet glove." He thrust into me wildly.

He was larger than the Reverend and his churchly wand, and wilder than Charley Dartle's slippery snake. Oh how he did lunge and thump me! How the lovely truncheon fevered my misty brow! Oh, deepness. Oh delight. Harry, you entrancing glutton. Oh, I could say 'fuck'!

It was not over in a moment. Not in the least. The more Harry poked and frolicked, the more he thrust and plunged and battered my tender bottom. I could but hold to him and pant, for I was helpless to say him nay. The marvelous bucking and wrenching of the carriage did titillate me and the exquisite, satiny paroxysms were so like those I had at the hands of Reverend Twistle. But deeper and harder.

And, it proved, longer lasting.

Oh Harry, you long-pronged devil! You drove me frantic, screaming and jerking like a bummer in his cups beset with visions and witches belabouring. Oh convulsions and tempestuous miseries! Maddened by seduction and drove beserk, I reared and throbbed, gushed and shuddered with every nerve-twitching thrust.

"You've misled me, you minx," Harry muttered, jabbing and piercing. "No sweet innocence." I cried again, begging through tears not for abuse. "Do not be cruel, sir."

"You've been fucked before," he said with a certain vicious intent.

"Please, Harry, is it not enough that you belabour me thus? How can I help what I cannot prevent?"

He grunted and continued to attack my well of secret sweets. It seemed a fortnight had passed, so great was the overwhelming ferment of my stupefied brain. The spasms washed over me, noticed and proffered by his driving phallus. The carriage helped us both in friction and in lulling, for the driver sought the most rutted roads, knowing what we were about. Harry confessed afterwards that he had so instructed the fellow. Oh, Harry, you lustful card!

We settled into a dreamy state. The horse's hoofs were a suitable accompaniment to our exhausted idyll. I felt the satiated tool restless within me and held him tight with arms and legs, squeezing wantonly, for I was past thinking and could only sigh in ecstasy.

Harry kissed me dear, and opened my dress to kiss my naked breasts as I cooed. How could kisses so sweet and honied be sinful? Oh, blessed love. Blessed Harry.

I was in love, and knew it even as the carriage bounced along the country road, bearing us still locked as one and writhing with the gossamer images that love evoked. His love prong fused with me in a pulsating ballet, though its honey had been spilt and though its mighty strength was mostly spent.

Oh, fuck me, Harry.

But every day must come to sunset, and ere that time we had aroused ourselves and kissed again and loved again and laughed together in the fields. Then into the carriage and away to the town.

"I love you, darling," he whispered hot in my ear. "I cannot live without you."

"And I you, Harry," I said, embracing him and squirming my breasts to his hands.

Oh, mournful time of parting. The stilled voices as the carriage drove into the cobbled street. Pale blurs as neighbors stared from windows to see me alight, to see him kiss my hand. Kiss my hand! Oh, Harry, you darling! "Who the hell's that?" my father asked, blearing at the dusky carriage rattling to the corner. "Where you been girl?"

"Oh, Father, I'm in love."

He snorted. "Love is it? You'll find wh' love is, Nell. In bed an' hump afore breakfas'."

"Father, please!" I turned and ran to my room. I could still feel the love between my legs that had assailed me all afternoon. The fantasy of him floated before me. The feel of him, the sight of his blue eyes, the feel of his hands. Love, love, love. I was in love.

I fell across my bed, still entranced by the delights of the day. I scarce heard my father slam the door as he clumped away to the pubs. I rolled to my back, staring at the silence and the gloom of the room, seeing the fields and Harry's smile, hearing his voice.

The door rattled, and someone knocked. I roused myself slowly, patting my hair and slipping to the floor. Now I could feel the drubbing that Harry had given me! I throbbed in that secret nest, a good throbbing. Standing by the bedroom door, I forgot for a moment, back again in the carriage. I rubbed myself against the door, dreaming of Harry's gorging, surging weapon. Someone knocked harder.

Sighing, I went down to the door. It was the Reverend Twistle.

"Nelly," he said, "I thought you ill. 'tis the night of the choir practise."

I made a round mouth. I had forgot, clean forgot. "I am so sorry, sir."

He came in and shut the door. "Are you ill?"

"Oh, no sir."

"Is your father home?"

I shook my head. "He is just gone out."

"Ah, to the pub?" He came close and took my shoulders lightly. I nodded and he smiled and kissed my forehead very softly. "Are you tired, Nelly?"

"Ah-no, sir." I looked at him in the gloom of the room; we had not lit a candle. He put an arm about my waist and led me to the couch.

"I felt somehow that tonight you are in need of me, Nelly. I'm in a stew to aid you. That's why I carne right here, to see you."

"Oh, sir, you're so kind." I let him lay me on the couch, as we had done a hundred times. This was different from Harry-was it not? Yes, with Harry I felt the same, yet different. Should I tell the Reverend that I loved a man. I decided to reserve my opinion.

The Reverend's eager phallus was rising, and he led my hand to it to clasp. "Oh, Nelly, I am so anxious for you."

"It is your unselfish drive," I said, feeling the throb of it. There were times when the Reverend Twistle was like a flaming crusader, eager to do his utmost for me. I did wonder as he slipped between my thighs how the feel of it would strike me. I guided it as I usually did, and it slid deep, for I was well lubricated.

"Ah, you were melting for me," he whispered, writhing it and pumping it.

"Oh, my goodness!" I gasped. The feel of the thing brought back every sigh and every kiss in gushing, mad abandon. I gave a little cry and slid my legs about his and bucked against him, squeezing and undulating. Extreme agitation, smothered sighs in his shoulder as he worked frantically, thrusting into me ardently.

I knew that this was churchly, and to my benefit for Paradise, but I sinned. With the Reverend inside me, seeking with all his goodness to cleanse me of sin, I yet sinned. For I thought of Harry and a paroxysm convulsed me so that I screamed in sheer passion and luxury. I fused with the Reverend and my wicked loins sucked at the bounty of his phallus, harassing it and enveloping it till he cried out in his turn.

Oh, I drained the struggling cleric of his manhood, never allowing him a respite from my passion. As I bucked and writhed with dear Reverend Twistle, I thought only of Harry, and fucking Harry. Yes, I sinned, oh, how I sinned! With every wild, impelling thrust I thought of Harry. I was fucking Harry! Horrid word, but I didn't care. Thus far had I sunk.

"Oh, dear God," the Reverend whispered hollowly. "What have I spawned?"

I could not let him rest, poor fellow. He spoke other words to me but mostly I heard him not, nor understood, because often I wallowed in the depths of my enslavement. But the time came when he could no longer make me feel it. He rolled from the couch and lay for a time on the cold floor, eyes closed, breathing hard and deeply. He did not bother to close his trousers, and the wrinkled gnome lay there, one-eyed and limpid. I lay above him, staring at it, still feeling the sensation that it left me. Oh, precious thing.

When he sat up at last, he looked at me; then he went and lit a candle and looked at me again. He put the flickering tongue of flame between us and leaned on his hand. I cast down my eyes, for I feared that he guessed the sin I had felt when he was on me.

"Dear Nelly," he whispered. "What a woman you have become."

I glanced at him.

"You have secrets from me, Nell."

"How can you say that, sir?"

He took my chin and pulled it around to look into my eyes. "You know you have."

I shuddered slightly. He was a man of God and so perceptive. "I-er-I have sinned, yes, sir."

"When?"

I broke down and cried. "Today, sir."

"I thought as much, Nell. Oh, yes, I thought so. A man has fu-er-had you, hasn't he?"

I cried much louder. He pulled me up and led me to my bedroom and sat me on the bed.

"Cry, girl, and tomorrow we'll talk about it if you wish." I nodded, and he went out, staggering, I thought, just a trifle. He seemed very tired.

I went to see him next day, first thing, but he put me off. I wanted so much to lay with him to start the cleansing, but he had much to do that was important, and could not wait.

"Does it burn?" he asked, pressing me on the secret nest and rubbing slightly, and I nodded. It did not exactly burn, but it itched. The mere thought of a tool in that region soothed me.

"You must be strong," he said, taking his hand away. "You must learn strength. It is the Lord's way of testing us, one and all."

I tried to be strong. Cora Pearl was off to Blackfriars Street for more flowers when I arrived to begin the day's selling. Mr. Linke seemed more eager than usual to pat my rump: "Oh, I beg your parding."

But I hardly noticed, for he had done it a thousand times. And that was my undoing. Without the bright and knowing eye of Cora Pearl on his every move, he clasped me round the waist and kissed my neck.

"Oh, sir!" I gasped, as though a snake had availed itself of my satin skin.

"Don't pull away, love," he said. "There's no one as could be so light an' pure as you. You're not foolin' Dunk Linke, Nelly. You got a boy, eh? You gi' 'im the puss, sure you do. Well, we been friends a mite of a time, ain't we? Gi' us a fuck, gal."

I nearly swooned. "Oh, Mr. Linke," I gasped, "Do not presume on our relationship in this cruel manner."

He blinked at me. "Wot's 'at mean?" He had a tit in his hand, massaging it.

"Let me go," and I pushed at him. I fell onto the box he used as a desk and he crowded close, his breath hissing, so excited was he. Oh, fatal stimulation! I knew he desired me then. I thought to scream but stifled it, for the police would only come and I had already had a day with them.

His hand explored me and found that heated nest, so recently petted by the good Reverend; a finger delved inside and I was lost. For then I could not prevent him having his way with me. I hated him for it. Oh, how I hated him! But he gave me a thorough fuck, for all that. It distressed me that he made me writhe so, and shudder at the carnal spasms.

"You're a tidy piece," he snickered at me, lunging and driving, with a tool like that of Reverend Twistle. "We'll do this little game more."

"Oh sir-you'll ruin me!"

"I think you been ruined, already, love."

I cried then, and he only chuckled and thrust to his heart's content. I was so ashamed that he had had me thus. But it did rid me of the terrible itch that had assailed me from the morning.

I went out then with the baubles, with Mr. Linke close about, and sold out by the time that Cora Pearl arrived with the flowers. It was a good morning, all in all.

Harry Winfield came by in the afternoon in a carriage and despite the entreaties of Cora Pearl, I went with him, giving over my tray to her. I knew Mr. Linke would be furious, but I loved Harry. Indeed, I loved him.

Jumping into the carriage, I was away 'fore they could prevent. Harry was sweet, tanned hands about me, kisses on my brow and my lips. Blue eyes looking into mine.

"You must give over this menial task, this flower selling, my darling."

"Oh, Harry, but I must live and support my father, and they are good to me."

"They are not," Harry said, and I stared at him.

He shook his head. "I have looked into the matter, and they are sneak thieves and pickpockets, my dear."

"Harry! What are you saying?

He kissed me sweet and soft. "You think them your friends, my love, because you are innocent and loving and believing and think not ill of anyone."

I was aghast. "I will hear no more, Harry."

"But's true!"

I burst out crying. I loved Cora Pearl; she was not scholarly, and often dirty, and sometimes sly and often foul with language, but no person is perfect in the eyes of the Lord. She had been good to me and taught me salesmanship and never scolded me, hardly. And Mr. Linke, though he had had me-an ungenteel act and odious; still he had kept me from harm and permitted no fancy men to take sport of me, and I was grateful.

"There, there," Harry said, petting me. "We will say no more." And he did not.

My tears cleared and the carriage rolled again into the country with us, as two lovebirds, nestled on the soft leather seats lost in reverie and heedless of time. Oh, Harry, you were so gentle.

And so loving. No one had loved me like Harry. I became a torch, a flame, a shooting star. Losing all sense of thought, I only felt and drenched myself in the wonder of his exquisite embraces. Again, the day passed in his arms. Oh, what a wanton I became, desiring kisses and feverish fantasies. Giving him all he asked for, freely and excitedly, telling him of my love, and listening to his whispered promises.

Oh, Harry, you turned my pretty head complete. I was yours as no one has ever been. It rejoiced my heart to give him love and my body, and he took each morsel and exclaimed over it.

He took me then to Fleet Street and around the corner to a shop where strange-eyed women stared at me and I saw them whisper and giggle behind hands and look me up and down. It was a hushed place of silks and lofty ceiling, and a smell of perfume.

"Ignore them," Harry said, and I looked straight ahead. "They envy you your beauty," he said and made me smile.

A woman came, looking at me in obvious surprise and talking aside with Harry, then nodding and smiling as she watched me. I sat very still, wondering if I could keep my wretched heart from jumping out of my breast, I was so ashamed of my poor rags. My shoes were torn and run-over, and they seemed like clumps of offal on my feet and I hid them as best I could from view.

"Ah, my dear," the woman said, and took my hand and rose me up. She made me turn and walk for her, and turn about again. Then she sighed. "We will try," she said to Harry and he smiled reassuringly at me.

They took me away as he waited, and bathed me. How surprised I was! They wished me to wash all over. Every secret place and nook. A grinning girl came to help and her indecent hands made me squirm and wriggle. "Lor' love us," she said in her throaty way, "'aven't you 'ad a washin' this month, love?"

How could I tell her, that with no warm water and the weather that chill-? And they burned my clothes!

"Take these out and burn them," I heard the woman say, "Jesus kick my bustle, 'ave you ever seen such a baggage?"

No one asked me anything. They wiped me dry and powdered me, turning me this way and that with imperious hands and husky commands. And a silken shift went on over my head and stockings. And someone was at my hair; I was like a rag doll. I began to smell elegant.

The woman came and looked at me now and then, stepping around, finger to her chin, cocking her white head and squinting her eyes. I cast down my eyes fearing to anger her. She gave sharp commands, and swore at the girls: "You clumsy wenches, can't you see she needs green?"

They gave me a green paletot, a wide skirt with a white satin bonnet trimmed with fur. Oh, my goodness! Did they mean me?

"Yes, that's better," the woman said and actually smiled. "He'll like you now, dearie."

I thought to tell her how much he had already liked me in the carriage-but did not dare. "Yes, mum."

"My name is Hovis," she said with the trace of a smile. "Madam Hovis. We shall become friends, Nell."

I smiled that she knew my name. "Yes, mum-er- Madam."

She took me to a room with mirrors and it took my breath away. I did not recognize the beautiful woman who looked back at me from the long mirror. I stepped close, with round mouth, staring, hearing little giggles behind me. I stood stock still, staring at the gorgeous figure. That was not me!

I moved a hand, quickly. The figure in the mirror did the same, and my heart skipped a beat. I moved another, and the figure did the same. It was me!

I looked at Madam Hovis, "It is me!"

She laughed. "Turn about, Nelly."

I whirled, and whirled again. Oh, I was so beautiful! And then Harry came and laughed with them. He held me in his arms and kissed me. How happy is love? How happy is Paradise? I thought that never again would I be sad, would I cry, would my heart be heavy. How foolish is love.

Into the carriage again. Kisses. Oh, Harry you swept me to the heavens! But into my happiness crept the specter of reality.

"Who will pay for this, Harry," I asked in awe.

He kissed me with a laugh. "Don't fret your lovely head, not for an instant. I am a rich man, darling. And you are mine. You are mine."

I sighed. Truer words have never been uttered.

He took me to a fine apartment, and I was his. Again and again. We were delirious on a silken four-poster in a room with a Turkey rug, gilded and dark sideboards and lacquer objects that glittered as I fluttered my heavy lashes at them over his shoulder. Oh, how he attacked the tingling place, embedding himself and flinging us both about! What stupefied dreams misted down upon me. What bliss and flawless surrender.

To wake in the middle of the night! What would Father say? Where was I? In a huge bed of crackling stuff and rich gossamer hangings! Oh, Nelly, what have you done?

And I was alone. It frightened me to discover that Harry had dressed and gone with never a kissing word or a promise of return. A stab sheered through my being and I fell, almost in a faint. To rouse myself and look about again. Where was I? In a magnificent apartment. In nothing but the filmiest cloak to cover my nakedness, I took candle and went through the suite. Five rooms and pantry, and a girl sleeping on a cot, snoring too, her feet bare and black with dirt on the bottoms. I was astonished to see her. A maid?

She waked as I stood above her, eyes glued with sleep and yawning. She nodded, seeing me. She knew I was there.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Florine, ma'am," she said and sat up slowly. "Is aught amiss?"

I shook my head. Should I discuss my fears with a serving girl? But she must have sensed my agitation.

"Wot is it?"

"The-er-master is-gone," I faltered.

"Oh 'im." She giggled.

I frowned at her. She was comely, and round, with a tangle of reddish hair and roses in her cheeks. She had tits too, as I could see easily enough, pink nippled too for she made little attempt to hide them in her disarray.

"Don't fret, ma'am," she said soothingly. "Go back t'bed, he'll come in the mawnin'."

"He will?" I said stupidly.

"'E allus does," she said and pulled a sheet over her round shoulder, patting her pillow. It chased a cold wind across my spine to hear her talk thus. Did she know my Harry so well?" 'E 'as to go 'ome," she smiled, and put her head on the pillow.

"Home?" I said, equally stupidly. "Where is home?" She shrugged, her eyes becoming heavy again. "With 'is wife, ma'am."

I screamed-a piercing shout.

Florine yelped. Her shapely legs kicked out and she erupted from the cot. "Yiiii!" She landed half on the cot and half on the floor. I was still screaming.

"What d'you mean, his wife?"

"'Is wife, ma'am-'e 'as a wife. I thought you-" Oh, dismay and betrayal! I sank down on the cot, staring at the unhappy girl. She opened and closed her mouth like a live fish.

"I'm sorry, ma'am-" I nodded, seeing nothing then, but feeling Harry's arms. His kisses, his hands and his love. Florine picked herself up. "Can I getcha a gin, ma'am?"

"Yes," I said, hollowly.

She left and I sighed. I cried. Copious tears, as a waterfall. Oh my God! Was it true? Harry married and I a whore. Alas!

"Drink this, ma'am."

I tipped up the glass, burning my throat, choking. Florine thumped my back. "Not so fast, ma'am. Jezis, it ain't water."

She gave me another, and had one herself. It burned, a good burn. Oh, Harry you didn't did you?

More tears and gin. Tears and gin, what a miserable combination. But it eased the pain. The gin did. Florine smacked her lips and grinned like a beautiful gargoyle.

"'E done you wrong, huh, ma'am? Oh, men! I say screw 'em. But you got to 'ave 'em." She tipped up the bottle, neat. "Yup, screw 'em."

"Please," I said, realizing the word was slurred.

She passed me the bottle. "Jezis, ma'am, you're the prettiest of th' lot."

"The lot?" I stared at her, sloshing the bottle.

She giggled and licked her red lips. "Sure, ma'am. Didja think you was first?"

"Huh?"

"The first in this 'ere apartment? 'E's 'ad a skittle o' gals, ma'am Dressy gals and some o' them uppity as if they wasn't walkin' Regent Circus yestiddy."

The apartment blurred and circled about and I clutched the cot. When I blinked the room exploded into lights and streamers. Woozy. Is this what Father felt?

"Yer drunk, ma'am," Florine said. She took the bottle and tipped it up. It gurgled and she grinned in a lopsided way. She pushed the reddish hair to one side and laughed out loud. "Oh, 'e had a pecker on 'im, 'Arry did."

I agreed. He had.

"An' a way with the fancy gals, did 'Arry. A party t'night and buckets o'the needful. Gennelmen o'fashion and flat on their asses." She giggled. "Oh I 'ad me peckers by the bushel." She waved the bottle. "This 'ere's been split, ma'am."

"Get another," I said, reaching for it. She was right, it was empty. How careless. What a blurry room! Where was Harry. I got up and went to look. Florine was sitting on the floor, wrestling with a bottle, cursing and biting her lip.

"The fuggin' thing's stuck," she grumbled.

I sat down beside her, and waited till the room came to a decorus halt, then reached for the offending article. The cork was halfway out and she was biting at it. I yanked and it popped out, splashing us with gin.

Florine giggled and sucked her sopping dress, flimsy and transparent. Her pointed titties were red but not as large as mine. I opened my dress while she tipped up the bottle. Mine were larger and rounded, not so pointed. But rosy on the nipples. Harry loved my tits.

"Jezis, I wish I 'ad a man," she said, peering at me with one eye closed, for her focus was no better than mine.

I gulped at the bottle and laid it down, hearing the gurgle of it and feeling the puddle it made. A puddle of gin. I splashed my hands in it delightedly, and Florine helped, shrieking.

She paused and held the bottle by the neck. "Oh, 'Arry 'ad a pecker on 'im, 'Arry did." she simpered, "'E'd stick it in me an' we'd gallop. Twould rejoice the 'eart 'ow we'd bounce about."

"You was fucking Harry?"

"Oh, yas, ma'am." She ogled me and could not find her mouth with the neck of the bottle; she took both hands to do it. She gulped and her eyes did not focus at all, but seemed to smear. "Jezis, he usta tell me, Floorie, you's the bestest fuck of 'em all yes ma'am." She fell over sideways.

When I came to again, it was afternoon and I was in a bed. I opened my eyes and shut them instantly, for it was a painful thing and my head was a balloon, throbbing and aching. I moaned. I heard Harry's soothing voice and felt his hand on my shoulder.

"You poor child, you poor foolish child-"

"Harry!" I tried to see and sit up but he held me down. "Damme, Harry, you're married! Let me out of here, let me out of here!"

I heard him gasp, and as I peered through bloated lids, I could see the pinkness of his sweet face. The blue of his eyes sparked at me.

"Married!" he said. "Who told you that?"

I stammered. I couldn't remember. Where had I heard it? Someone had told me. But I had been in the apartment with Harry of course. Florine. It had been Florine.

"Florine," I said.

He snorted. "That girl. Such a liar. She lies, darling."

"She 'as cute tits, Harry."

"Shhh," he said, putting his fingers over my eyes. Oh, how my head burst and pulsated. I was so glad Harry was not married. My mouth was furry and my teeth seemed stuck together. The room swam a bit and settled back as I unglued my eyes and peered out to see my sweet Harry. He was standing at the shuttered window, looking out to the glare of day.

I sank back. I couldn't remember for the life of me what Florine looked like. I remembered her pink titties and that was all. And she drank a lot.

Throb. Oh, what a painful misery!

When I peeked again through the smeary hurt, I saw that Harry had gone. I lay still for a time. Then I thought of Father. Father! Oh, my God!

I struggled and fought, clambering out of bed, stopping to ease the terrible pain, to hold my splitting head. I must go home. Father would worry and cry thinking me dead. I grit my teeth and stumbled. Where were my clothes? My familiar rags? She had burned them. That woman, Hovis.

"Harry," I called, and my head shattered. I had to hold it together.

Harry was nowhere about. Nor was Florine. But I found my clothes and struggled into them and 'twas not easy for it took a long time. I had to stop and let my throbbing head rest. I would never drink gin again.

The apartment door slammed behind me and I went down the stairs, slowly and carefully, holding my aching head. A grinning man met me at the bottom.

"You'd be Miss Nell?"

I said I was.

He slipped a hand about my waist as I struggled toward the door where I could see the outside sunlight. "Are you bound out, Miss?"

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth.

"Does Mr. Winfield know?"

I was in no mood to quibble, and said something under my breath. Then I stepped on his foot, for his hand had captured one breast as he held me tight. He howled and I pushed him and got through the door. I was on a high stoop and below me a busy street with hansoms and horses and people stirring and a policeman on the corner with white gloves. I went down the stairs to the street, holding to a polished railing. Each step was misery.

Without purse or money, I took a cab for home and the man paused and stared at me as I gave him the address. But he took me there. My poor heart was pounding with anxiety and foreboding. Father would be so angry.

I bade the cabby wait, and went inside the found Father in his bed. Drunk. Goodness me. I sat on the edge of the bed and clucked my tongue at him. What should I do? There was a bottle on the sideboard and I smelled it. Gin. I took a sip and another. It made my head behave somehow.

Hair of the dog, my father had called it. I giggled. And had another sip or two.

Father snored. I knew he snored, but he snored more deeply and with ripples and snorts and he smelled something awful. The entire house smelled awful. But the more I drank the less I noticed it. And the better my head felt.

Poor Father, whatever would become of him? I felt so sorry for him. I quite forgot the cabby outside. He came knocking at the door in a bit and I found myself very woozy as I went to the front and looked out. My head was fuzzy but not so sharp in pain-blurred and softer as though wrapped in a quilt.

"Hi, you goin' back mum?"

I stared at the man; he had a broken top hat and a whip. "Yus," I said. "I'll go back."

He nodded and continued to stand there. "You got money, mum?"

The made me laugh, or giggle rather. "No I ain't."

"Oh?" He frowned at me and looked past me into the house. Then he licked his lips and leaned the whip by the door. He pushed in though I held the door, and shut it quietly behind him. '"O" 'ere, mum?"

"Here now. You can't come in. Father's asleep."

"Is 'e, now." The man sniffed. "Drunk, more like." He looked at me and licked his lips again. He was a fearsome creature, unshaved and coarse, with black hair and a red nose and piercing shifty eyes and lips stretched tight over yellow teeth.

I backed away, aware that his glittering pig eyes were fastened on my bosom, heaving now with fear, for the looks he gave me were not soft and melting.

Backing, I came to the sofa and fell, losing my balance from fear and gin. He was on me in a flash. I screamed, and a great rough hand squeezed my face and muffled my voice.

"No money eh, missy?" he growled. "Well Corliss ain't the one fer them tricks."

"Please, sir," I yelled. "What are you about?"

He laughed in my ear. I felt his hands on me, on my legs, pushing them apart. Oh, I knew then what he was about! Evil fellow, rooting like a pig, his beery breath in my face. Pushing and shoving, and then dumping me so that my legs shot into the air.

I screamed when he entered me. Oh, what a shaft! It delved into me like a galloping spear, burning and roiling and touching bottom in a trice. He had plunged it to the depths, so great was his monstrous passion. Hissing and snickering all the while and panting as he thrust and bucked and hammered and went into vicious convulsions that assaulted me and drubbed me into the sofa. Alas, I was had again!

The pounding he gave me brought back my pains and I bit my lips in agony. I felt the surging invader, but the intense hurt prevented the gushing spasms that so often attended such games. I groaned and held my head as he skewered me, wishing with all my might that the encounter were at an end. And Father snored on through it all.

I wanted to cry but the additional hurt that it might entail kept me from it, so I merely opened my mouth and lay back, receiving him and bearing him. Oh, do it and get off!

I sighed as he pulled it from me. I could see his great pink organ, like a lewd snake dripping. His mouth laughed at me, teeth askew. "Thankee, missy. That'll do nicely." Laughing and chuckling, he was gone, clumping down the stairs and hollering to his horse. What an oaf.

The itch set in.

CHAPTER FIVE

Dear Harry was beside himself that I had left the apartment. He feared, he said, that I had run back to the thieves and pickpockets where he had found me.

"You promised not to speak thus," I said, miffed at his obtuseness.

"But they have records," he said, "they have been in gaol-" I nearly burst out crying, thinking of gaol and of Millie. Only yesterday had he heard of her apprehension. It mystified him but I dared not speak of Millie, for he would not have liked me with a sister in the clutches of the law.

"There, there, darling." he said. "Don't cry. Only promise me that you will not go back to Linke and that woman, Cora Pearl."

I was astonished that he knew their names.

"I told you," he said, "I looked them up. They are a matter of public record. They have been in-oh, I promised to drop the matter."

I was ensconced again in the luxury of the apartment, but Florine was not there.

"I sent the baggage packing," he said. "She had a lying tongue, the witch."

"How could she have said you were married, Harry?"

"She was a meddler. Do not bother your pretty head about it, Nelly. I'll get you another maid."

I had never had a maid, but Harry insisted. "She will save you work, darling. I cannot bear to think of your soiling your lovely hands. They must be soft for me;-" He kissed them and my heart melted.

Oh, Harry, you precious thing.

The maid was Emily, a lanky girl from Whitechapel, with curly hair and staring eyes.

"She isn't the brightest, darling," Harry said, "but she's a willing lass."

She was. She dusted and cooked and swept out and never a word of complaint. In the afternoons we had a sip of gin together, she and I. 'Twas good for the liver.

"I like it here, mum."

"I'm glad, Emily."

"'Tis a rest I'm getting. Oh, I tell you, mum, a girl 'as to cut it now 'n' then, though I do miss the arcades."

"A rest from what, Emily?"

"Screwin', mum," she said. "'Tis a good living, as you know, but them as beats you up-well, a girl can't-"

"Good Lord! You were a whore?"

She looked surprised. "A course, mum. Didn't 'e tell you? 'Any knows."

"Harry?" I felt faint.

"Mister Winfield, mum. 'E's 'ad me many a time. In both ends."

I gulped down a gin, neat. "Both ends?"

"'E loves a suck, does 'Arry." She grinned at me, her honest, stupid face open as any sewer. She saw my look of dismay and stopped, putting both hands to her mouth. "Ooo, I ain't sposed to say," she said, staring at me. "'Arty said to keep my trap shut."

"I guess he did," I agreed. "Here, Emily, have more gin."

I got her clotted drunk. Poor Emily, she told me all. How Harry had taken her from the streets and had her in a cab, and in a hotel and on a train, and now as maid to me. And she begged me not to tell him.

"But 'e loves you, mum," she blubbered. "'e fucks me, but 'e loves you, bless 'im."

I put her to bed. I was ashamed for Harry, but he was a man, after all, and men must do these things, for the Reverend Twistle had told me of life and warned me.

He had such blue eyes.

He gave me money, and so I took a cab to see dear Father and to give him money now and then. He was sullen, for he knew I was kept, but the money placated him and he did no more than growl and moan that he was ailing.

"An' I thought you were the good 'tin," he would say. "Better'n me and Millie-"

"Please, Father. I am working for my keep."

"On yer back," he mumbled, but I pretended not to hear.

It did fret me though, for I have no desire to be thought a wanton. Dear Harry paid my bills and rates, but I did my part with pleasing him and setting a good table under his eye, served by Emily, and moving with him to the theatre and the races. Gracing his arm. Everyone thought me lovely, or so they said.

And if I had to fuck him, so be it. 'Twas part of the bargain. Each week I went straightaway to Reverend Twistle and told him all, and confessed and prayed with him and he forgave me.

I had been a wanton. Heedless of all and propriety, and forgetting the teachings of my youth, I had been sinning. Oh my goodness, I had been sinning! With gin and with Harry, lecherous thoughts roiled through my mind. Gambling with money not mine at the tracks and on tables where scions of nobility sported. I had flirted with men through my fan.

Was it enough to run to Reverend Twistle each week for salvation? He was a patient and long-suffering man and so good to me. And indulgent. I fear me, too indulgent.

"You are beautiful, Nell," he would say. "I cannot find it in my heart to excoriate you. You must continue to struggle against the baser avenues opened to you. And above all, you must continue to pray and to nest under my wing."

"I will, sir, I will."

I knew it was my only path to eternal salvation.

But it was my father who brought me to my senses, and made me see my sinning ways. For I had closed mine eyes to them and did not wish to see.

In his house, to bring him money and cheer, I was brought face to face with reality. He was sober, for once.

"You cannot continue this way," he said, sounding much like a voice from the pulpit. "You ain't a fancy woman, Nelly, you ain't got the Devil's bent."

I stepped back, startled to hear him speak so. Then I knew he had been brooding. I knew people had been talking. He was ashamed of me-even more than dear Millie in gaol.

"Come home, Nell," he said. "Give up this life-whatever it is-"

"Oh Father-I cannot!"

What would Harry say? He would be furious.

"I need you," he said. "I need you."

And so I determined. Standing there, in fine clothes, before him in his tatters, I came to my senses. I would come home to him and keep house for him and save him from the terrors of drink. I would be a good girl again.

It made me feel saintly all over, and I went to call on Reverend Twistle and bare my soul to him. He had never demanded that I tell him of Harry and my new life. But I told him and he listened patiently, nodding and sighing, and patting my white hands. And when my recital was over, he prayed with me and couched me, and I went home content. My itch too was salved.

Harry was furious. I had been right, oh my yes.

He came storming to my humble house, knocking at the door and shouting. "Nell, where are you, Nelly?"

"Please, Harry, you'll wake-"

"Nell-Nell-" He pushed inside the house, taking me in his arms. "My God, girl, I must have you!"

"Harry," I said firmly, "that is all finished. I have my duty to perform. I must care for my father-"

"Nell, he's a boozer!"

"Please, Harry."

"I'll care for him then. I'll send him money enough to drown in beer-" I turned away and hung my head. I was mortified that my father drank to excess. I was struggling too, with the Devil, for on seeing Harry, my provoking itch had returned and was flushing my cheeks. Oh, Harry, I wanted you so!

"Remember what we've been, Nelly-" I looked at him. "You spoke of marriage, Harry."

"Marriage?" He blinked at me. "M-m-m-marriage?"

"Harry, you promised to marry me!"

I watched him gulp. "I did?"

I turned away again and he came and grasped me by the shoulders, whispering in my ear. "Oh, Nelly, I love you so. I must have you."

"All that is changed," I said, gritting my teeth, for his hands went around me and swept up capturing my tits. Oh, Harry, you knew my weaknesses!

"Come with me, darling. Come home with me."

I was breathing hard. I pushed back against him with my butt. I knew I should not. My resolve turned to water. The Temptor had come to lure me from my placid existence. Harry and my itch were in league.

I looked into his blue eyes.

Oh God, Harry, it's in me! Flat on my back, I squirmed in sweet misery, hardly knowing how came I thus. The rickety couch squeaked as our weight bore down and as Harry heaved and bucked between my widespread thighs. Get it on deep, Harry! Ram me, batter me-my God how I need it!

"I love you Nelly," he hissed as he pumped me. I squeezed him and held him, pulling him and sighing. I loved him so. Fuck me, Harry.

What is love but caring and wanting, a terrible overwhelming desire? I could not deny Harry anything, and he knew it, I think. Oh joy and despair, oh carefree hours and duty, oh Father. But Father stood at the bar, groggy and willowy and soggy as a wet ribbon. Nelly would not pilot him home. Poor Father.

For Nelly was sinning again.

He had me on the shifty couch, and again in my bed as I gathered my clothes into a valise. I cried out as he threw my skirts over my head, pushed me down face first on the bed and thrust up my bottom with his pickle. Oh, Harry, you impulsive swain!

Then into the carriage and away again to the bright apartment. Emily was waiting, staring eyes wide and red lips smiling to see me, her gawky figure all in demure blacks with frilly white apron like a French maid. I kissed her cheek and Harry whirled me inside, laughing and gay with my homecoming.

"A drink, Emily," he called. "Set us out drinks and see what's in the pantry, for I am about to starve."

Gin and tonic with clinking glasses, and I looked into the kitchen to see Emily sipping from a tumbler. When she served the food she swayed and would have tripped, giggling the while, but Harry caught her. Harry's hands were everywhere that evening. He served the meat, patting my half-hid tits, kissing my cheek and filling my glass.

"Have a care, Harry, for gin is stronger than tea."

"We must toast our love," he said with a sweet kiss upon my bosom. He called to Emily, and the three of us drank deeply. I thought it strange that Emily should sit upon his lap, but she did not. Other odd things were happening too, such as the angle to the room. The candles sparkled and I had the impulse to sing, but the words kept mixing themselves up, confusedly.

"Harry, why are you kissing Emily?"

"It's a play, dear, we're acting."

Charming. I could not stand for tripping. The room swayed dangerously-you must attend to it, Harry. Harry, where are you?

I sat on my rump in the middle of the floor; someone was giggling-me. Oh, what a bleary room! The chandelier and the draperies merged in gorgeous, whirling colors.

Harry, come and get me out of this bog!

I crawled about from chair to chair, scuffing my nose on the carpet. Oh, my whirling head! The bedroom door was open and I pulled myself erect by the doorjamb. I was surprised to see Harry on the bed, and tottered toward it. He turned his blur of a face to me; and as I touched the bed I felt it rock. The world was rocking.

"W'o's 'at?" I heard Emily say.

Harry whispered something and I fell onto the bed, clutching the covers. Oh, it was bouncing. Harry, you're naked! How many legs have you?

He pulled me up and lay me down, puffing the while and swearing which made me snicker. The bed still bounced, and I watched Harry's round bottom, pink and bare as a halibut, writhing in a froth of petticoats. When I turned my head I saw Emily's round face, grinning at me close under his chin.

"Oooo, Lor' love us, ma'am," she said, "you come for a screw?"

"Of course she 'as," Harry said.

I wanted to sing, but it was difficult, flat on my back. I lay still, thinking of a song, lulled by the gentle rocking of the bed. Then Emily began to moan, louder and louder.

"Jezis, I'm comin'," she yelled suddenly, and her legs kicked out. In an instant the bed was in a turmoil and I was dumped over the side to the hard floor, smelling dust and sneezing. Emily continued to yell, and Harry was wheezing like a cab horse on a hill.

"Oh Jezis, hump it," Emily said hoarsely, "gimme a fair 'umpin', 'Arry-" I picked myself up, clambering to the side of the bed and peering over. Harry was holding her down and she flailed her legs and bounced, God she was yelling!

Everything went blurry black with spots of hard light and shooting stars. I came to with Harry saying, "You kicked 'er in the head. Get some water."

I moaned, and Harry soothed me. I felt his cool hands. He undressed me, and Emily came and helped, and they splashed water on me, Lord! A bath in bed? It made me laugh, but the hurt stung like fire. Something to drink- "Here, this'll help," Harry said, and I gulped it down. The room was creamy and the bed swirled and spun in the ripples. Fun, oh, what fun!

Harry was grunting, pushing at me. Oh, that cosy thing was in me again-I felt his weight. Lovely, how lovely. Oh, get it in, Harry!

"She's a wild 'un," Harry said. "Jesus, hold 'er legs, she'll kick my ass to bits.

Emily giggled. I felt her hands, her body-surprisingly she was naked. Oh, Emily, you shameless wench! Spasms on top of spasms. Someone was screaming.

"Shut up, Nelly," Harry yelled in my ear. Was it me?

More spasms, and Harry was gone. Writhing and bucking, and the bobbing face between my thighs, the red mouth, was it eating me alive? Harry protect me-God, Harry, what is she doing? Ohhhhh, salvation!

"She loves it," Emily said from a great distance. Her rasping voice was overlaid with layers of moaning and shrieks that sounded like muffled wails, and a man's heavy laughing.

"Make 'er come again-" Then nothing.

My God, what a head! The daylight stabbed my eyes, and the room pulsed. The gin again. Why did I drink it? I dare not move, my head was brittle, the merest breath would crack it sure.

I heard Emily enter: "Awake yet, ma'am?"

I tried to open my eyes and winced. She plopped down a wet cloth on my forehead. It felt icy and I cried out.

"Don't stir, ma'am, you got a head on you, eh?"

I moaned. Emily was caressing my tits. I could not stop her if I had wanted. I was weak as worms. She moulded them and squeezed them and pinched the nipples.

"Take yer mind offen the head, ma'am."

Lecherous girl. But she was right, it did soothe me. How soothing was sin. How crafty the Devil. Emily sucked my nipples, one after the other. I felt her tongue on my naked breasts. Harry, she's exciting me.

Oh! My good God!

CHAPTER SIX

Two things happened in the weeks that followed. The first was a fateful thing, the death of my poor father. Run down by a coal wagon and crushed beneath the wheels, he died instant, the doctor said. 'Twas the only blessing I could imagine for him. I cried so, for I had disappointed him and knew it. Millie did not attend the funeral; she was not in gaol, but I had no way of finding her.

Harry stood by me, all in black, patient as a rock. Mr. Blunt was there, peering at me with lustful eyes, I was sure, and the Reverend Twistle, looking curious at Harry when I introduced them. There were others, a small knot of people who muttered. Some crossed themselves as the box was lowered slowly. Harry had sent flowers, the only ones, and it was a cold day.

Reverend Twistle said appropriate words and comforted me afterwards. He gave me a flower from the bouquet that I later put in the pages of a book.

"The Lord taketh away," he said to me in a low voice. "You must come and pray with me."

I wanted to go then, but could not and said so. I saw his eyes as Harry led me to the carriage. He was sad for me. He was such a kind man. I paused, then ran back to him and cried a bit on his shoulder, as Harry waited.

"There, there, Nell," the Reverend said to me. "Come to me as soon as you can-"

"I will, sir," I promised and as I moved against him I felt the dear prong arise and somehow found the strength to keep my hands from it. I heard him sigh.

In the carriage Harry comforted me on two accounts. I cried for the memory of my father, and I slipped my feverish hands into the depths of his trousers to clutch his maleness for I was inflamed with the nearness of the Reverend's absolving wand. Goodness, I needed a man.

Harry brought the thing out naked for me to hold, caressing me and kissing me fondly. "You're a minx," he whispered, "d'you want me to cream over the coach?"

Where the passion came from, I do not know, but I wanted him. Oh, I wanted him. The carriage was closed, with only two small windows at the doors, but it was a tiny one and hardly room for him to mount me. I squirmed my leg up over his thigh and he slipped a questing hand up my leg. It felt so good!

"You're hot for it," he said, and I nodded, my head nestled against his chest.

I stroked the phallus and cupped the furry, hard balls, using both hands. I looked down at the dusky organ in the gloom of the cab, the one-eyed worm. It was hot to the touch and satiny, pulsating and eager.

Bending low, I kissed the glowing knob of it. Harry moaned. I looked at him, surprised; was that so enjoyable?

"Oh, my darling, don't stint," he smiled.

I kissed the dear thing again. "Jesus!" he said.

I took the head of it in my mouth. Somewhere I had heard that people made love this way. Suddenly I wanted to suck Harry-and I had never thought of it before. I licked it and squeezed it with my lips. It was delicious.

But I was terrible awkward at the task. It was my first voyage in that sea. And sea it proved, for Harry could not hold his rapture and spouted like a geyser. It astonished me, though I should have known it would occur.

The sticky stuff sprayed over my bodice and splattered my face. Harry laughed, horrid man, seeing my discomfiture.

"Never mind, my darling, we'll do better next time."

The next day I went back to my home, gathering up Father's things, the poor, pitiful objects of the household, and boxing them. I gave them all away, not wishing to have his memory haunting me. He had gone to his death believing me to be a sinner. It made me crying sad.

Then I went at once to see Reverend Twistle, taking solace in his short, stocky figure, so strong and so sure.

"He is in a better place now, Nellie. Do not fret nor worrit. For the Lord is master and will oversee His flock. Is Harry your lover?"

It confused me, his interest in Harry, but I confessed again.

"I see." The good man laid me on the couch and stroked my thighs in a friendly manner. "Is he good to you, Nell?"

"Oh, yes sir."

"Then I will give him my blessing," Reverend Twistle said, and that pleased me so that I sat up and kissed him dear. He laughed and fondled my hair.

"You are a dear child, Nellie, but it is not meet in the eyes of God. We must continue to ward off sin and dishonor, e'en though your Harry is blest."

"Oh, I know that, sir."

He put out the light and crawled onto the couch with me, and I pulled my skirts high, for he came directly between my legs. Oh, what transports of exulting! The churchly rod deep in my innermost recesses! Sinuous prayer.

How entrancing to be cleansed by the same ardent machinery of licentiousness. How lucky and provident was I to have the Reverend for confessor. How the hours did fly!

Oh, fuck-er-cleanse me, Reverend!

The second occurrence was the reappearance of Mr. Linke and Cora Pearl.

Naturally I was delighted to see them. They came to the door of my apartment when Emily was out at the market. I was alone.

"Gorblimey, gal," Cora Pearl said, looking round at the fine room with silks and rosewood upright piano, gilded clock and gold framed looking glass in the entry hall.

"Coo," said Mr. Linke, his bulldog face screwed into a tight smile, his quick eyes dancing here and there. "Our lil Nell has did herself proud. Oh, yus, love." He came in, resplendent in a checked waistcoat and striped suit with a bowler hat and cigar. I had never seen him so fine. And Cora Pearl wore a taffeta dress that rustled, with button boots. Even her hair was combed.

She smelled of perfume, it filled the rooms, and I knew she had used the entire bottle. I hugged her and shook his hand as she patted my rump.

"Oh, I beg your parding."

I gave them tea and found some crumpets in the pantry, and Mr. Linke went through the rooms, admiring and oohing, winking at me over the bed with its satin spread.

"You've come up in the worl', Nellie. Oh, I'm that proud of you I am. T' think that our little girl come t'us to sell flo'ers. Hartificial flo'ers on the streets, and now look at 'er!"

"A beauty," Cora Pearl agreed. "She's a real beauty- like I was once," she sighed.

"'Course you was," Mr. Linke said graciously. "An' you ain't no cow now, darlin'." He chucked her under the chin and she simpered.

"How is the flower business?" I asked.

Mr. Linke cocked his round head at me. "Ah, how's tricks, she wants t'know. Well, love, it ain't the same with you not there, that it ain't. No one could sell them posies like our Nellie. Well, that's wot we come t'see, but now we 'ave-"

"You won't be wantin' to come back selling hartificial posies-" Cora Pearl shook her head. I shook my head. She nodded and sighed a great sigh.

"Business hain't gonna be the same without you, Nellie, love. But you're safe and snug with 'Arry Winfield-" I was surprised that they knew his name.

"Safe an' salubrious," Mr. Linke said. "An' I'm glad, ain't you, darlin'?"

"Oh, glad," Cora Pearl said smiling and nodding. She finished her tea and rose, extending her hand with a bunch of artificial flowers. "'Ere, take these, honey, as a token of our esteem, from me an' Dunk, 'ere. We wants you should remember us always."

"Of course I will," I said.

"A course she will," Mr. Linke echoed. "She's our little girl, Nellie is. She'll alms have a fine place in our 'earts. Allus. Good-bye, love."

I showed them to the door and Cora Pearl embraced me and cried a little, I thought. At least she sniffled. Mr. Linke shook my hand very formal and bowed over it and did not put on the bowler until he was in the hallway.

It had been so good to see them. I put the flowers in a vase. Harry saw them instantly when he entered. He went directly to the vase, picked the flowers out and brought them to me, holding them out as though the bunch might be an offending snake.

"What's this?"

I bit my lips. "Only flowers, Harry."

"Ah, and from who? From them two, Cora what's-her-name and that Linke fellow."

I nodded dumbly. How he knew that I could not tell. Why he was annoyed, I did not know.

"They were here, then?"

"Yes, Harry."

"I don't want them here-not ever!"

"But Harry, they're my friends."

He tossed the flowers out and came to sit by me. He patted my hands, holding them. "You're a dear sweet child, Nellie, darling. But you can't see what's under your nose. They are not your friends. They're thieves and pickpockets."

I began to cry. "Harry-you promised- "Yes, yes, yes, I know I promised. But I have to protect you. If I have to break a promise to protect you, then I must."

"But 'Arry-"

"Now, now, darling. Just do as I say. They must not come here again."

"But 'Arry-wot could they want of me?"

He continued to pat my hands and did not answer. I looked at him through my tears, to see him staring out the window, a furrowed brow and worried lip. His blue eyes were so troubled, it melted my heart. I crawled into his encircling arms.

He took me then into the bedroom. Oh, Harry, you know my itch!

He was in a white heat suddenly, and nearly ripped my shoulder straps from me, pushing down my chemise in a froth of white lace. I screamed with pleasure, helping him with flying fingers, and found myself flat on my back. Jesus! It was in me in a trice! My God, Harry! You're in a riot of desire! The bed shook and bounced, and I shrilled with the sinewy ballet.

I heard his voice at my ear, hissing and panting, "I love you, Nellie, I love you-" His body working, thrusting, jogging me. I held on for dear life, grinning at the ceiling like a feline. Oh God, Harry, how big it is! Ohhhhh, you darling!

Harry knew my sighs and my every twitch. He made me thrill and scream in heedless rapture, goading me with that wonderful love wand, deep in my satiny being. I spasmed and erupted, kicking out in silk-stockinged legs; cooing and melting with wanton fulfillment. Jesus, Harry, no one screws like you!

And the more he gave me, the more voluptuous I became, desiring him and urging him, helping him and scurrying about to suck it madly when he faltered. That dear, delicious tusk, that pillar of delectable bliss. How it throbbed and squirted and made me shout in our frolic! Oh, Harry, you laughed, and your blue eyes sparkled. I loved you, Harry. So very much. You and the long, lissom prong you gave me to nurse. And Emily! She came from nowhere, to serve us biscuits and gin. I was astonished to see her, clad in nothing but frilly apron and a comb in her hair. Her eyes crinkling and flashing at sight of us, and the pulsating pink organ in my lips.

Cold sober, and only fired by Harry's impelling desires, and my own, I was astonished and perhaps a little abashed. Emily, shameless wench, sat on the edge of the bed and fed him biscuits. I saw him toy with her tits.

He winked at me, naked and clad in a smile. "Emily has come to titillate us, my darling," he said. "Have a bit of gin, t'will put roses in your cheeks."

"Yes, Harry," I said dutifully, and took the glass from her. Reluctantly, I gave up the satiny prod, and saw it suddenly jump away as he rolled and embraced Emily.

Before my startled eyes, my Harry wrestled the giggling servant girl to the bed and mounted her in splendid fashion. The gorged prick drove straight and true to the furry nest that opened to it, and plunged inside! I sipped the spicy gin and stared as he thrust into her, writhing and squirming. She looked at me with saucer-like eyes, a smile on her hussy's face. Harry made the bed rock as he fucked her.

Oh, Harry, how can I hate you?

"Jezis, me beads!" Emily hissed, ramming herself up to meet him. "Gor-spike me, 'Arry-!"

I prayed silently to Reverend Twistle, for what the itch was urging on me; I knew he would understand and forgive me. It was so comforting.

And I felt so merry. I poured more gin and moved closer, and Emily's finger found my anguished well. She smiled at me and the finger entered and tickled. I rubbed myself over it, t'was better than nothing, but I longed for Harry's rampaging whang.

Emily's eyes fluttered, and Harry looked round at me. "She's going-" he said, "in a second."

And up she went, in an explosion. She shrieked and raked him with her nails. Harry winked at me and I giggled seeing the prick foaming in her sticky box. How she did writhe! She moaned, and the words were run together, almost slobbering. "Fuck me-" Harry had a drink with me when she was but squirming gently. He leaned on his elbows, the prong still in her like a mop handle, and we drank, first touching glasses like swells.

"She's a terrible good lay," he said seriously, and tossed off the gin. Then he began on her again, thrusting and jabbing and winking at me.

Perhaps, had I not had all the cheerful-making gin, I might have felt pangs of jealousy. I am sure I should have. But suddenly it was all like a party, and we were playing games. My itch was not getting better. I scurried about and rubbed myself on Harry and her, then remembered how she had laved me. Pushing between them, I sat on her face and Harry laughed, holding me about the waist and Emily's tongue thrust into me. Oh, goodness! What convulsions!

The gin got me again, I shudder to say, for I do not remember a great deal that followed. I danced with Emily, a gay, mad fandango with Harry clapping us on, and we sang like nightingales. The lights did recede a good deal, and come on again as though the gas was of poor quality, but perhaps it was in my poor head.

During the night I had the distinct impression of another fellow attending our revel. I have a memory glimpse of Emily on her back, legs in the air, shouting her familiar refrain: "I'm coming, Lor', I'm coming-" And the man atop her was not Harry; for Harry was atop me, and I am sure.

In the morning the fuzziness and throbbing were back to plague me and I soaked my poor brow with compresses. The wages of gin is a head like throbbing fire and the hammers of hell. I must not drink again.

Harry was nowhere about, but Emily brought me cold water and a strained smile and sat on the edge of the bed, her hair towsled.

"Oh Jesiz, ma'am, I feel like the worms been at my soul."

"It is being sinful, Emily, that causes this." She nodded, "My maw often said the same thing, dearie. It didn't take."

"What didn't take?"

"The sermon," she said. "Maw was full of sermons, an look at 'er, in a pauper's grave. Oh, I tell you, ma'am, it don't pay to listen to-" I waved her to stop. Every word throbbed my head and my eyes felt grubby, as though small boys had used them for games in the dirt. Emily got up with a sigh and brought me tea. Then I slept finally, getting used to the feel of the pillow's edges and bumps.

When I woke it was dim in the room with the curtains pulled, and no light on. My head did not quake so, and I could now feel the persistent pout of my quim. I rubbed it and it fairly snapped at my fingers. 'Twas an ache that would not be appeased by less than a man's goad and contact. Which was a sinful thing.

I scratched my hair and stretched my neck, sitting in the middle of the great bed, all rumpled and tossed. The boiling cup that Emily had brought me was dregs and cold. Where was Harry?

Getting up, I pushed my feet into mules and slipped on a feathery gown, nearly naked under but no one about save Emily. Why did my cunt itch so? I thought of Reverend Twistle and how I must go to him, for I knew I had sinned: Oh yes, I had sinned. My goodness! I had sinned.

Padding into the pantry, I heard voices. A man's voice, but not Harry's. Curious. A tradesman perhaps? I looked into the kitchen and gasped, for Emily was on the drain, the butt of her, and a big man standing before, plugging her with enthusiasm. Emily was giggling like the wanton she was, and the man talking in her ear.

Emily, you bitch, you love a good fuck!

I bit my lip nearly in half, watching the frolic though 'twas not a meet thing for my eyes. Her bare legs about him, and her white rump squirming, she oohed and ahhhed, and then her eyes met mine.

I saw her mouth form an O. Her eyes went wide but not for an instant did she cease her squigglings. You whore, Emily!

Turning, I went back to my bed, my itch rampant and thoughts of Reverend Twistle filling my mind. I would dress and go to him, for he would cleanse me of my lecherous bent. And I had been so lecherous of late. I was falling into a trap, a well of easy course. My life was becoming one of least resistance and not of service to the Highest.

I leaned on the bed, my head not entirely clear of the smoky effects of gin. I had much to confess.

And then I felt his hands. He had come into the room with Emily, quiet as burglars, and when be touched me I heard her giggle.

"It's Brownie, ma'am," Emily said.

I sucked in my breath for he had more than touched me. His hands swept my flimsy gown aside, and I felt the swollen lance of midnight trysts. I gasped as the silky spear slid up under my naked rump and rubbed its bold and lustful head along the quivering lips of my quiff. I turned about and looked this Brownie in the face, seeing a broad pair of cheeks and a wide nose and a grinning mouth with strong teeth-and felt the cock poke me with a lewd jab.

"'Ello, Nellie," Brownie said.

I gaped like a fish.

"'Ump 'er, Brownie," Emily giggled. "She needs it, she does."

He pushed me onto the bed and I felt the thing like a column of granite, an axe handle, slide into my itching well. I groaned and clutched the sheets as it buried itself where I could know it best. Oh, Reverend, forgive me for I cannot prevent the wickedness that assails me. My feeble struggles only drive the wedge deeper-it was always so. Forgive me-he is fucking me! Laugh, Emily, you giggling wench!

Oh, my God! What a spike!

Who the hell was Brownie?

I looked at Emily through my qualms. Her wanton's eyes were large as grapes and her dress awry, tits showing where she and the man had tussled. She came and sat on the bed beside me, patting my white hand and snickering.

"'O now, ain't that a way to wake up, ma'am?"

"Who's Brownie?" I managed to ask. He was battering my round backside and driving the pole deep and squishy and rooting like a hog in mud. The very bed bounced under the surging attack. Ah, what it does to a girl's itch!

"'E's a larky young bloke, ma'am, ain't 'e?"

I tried to look at Brownie over my shoulder, and could see only white teeth and straining jaws. Brownie did not stint me. A yard of it up my coozie! Hammering me. Thrusting and shoving, hot-blooded youth! The urgent stroking and steady undulation; the bounce and thwack of it, and the thrilling feel at the portals, inside, and the excitement of it! Jesus, don't stop, Brownie!

He couldn't. I knew that in a moment, how wicked he was over my bare posteriors. He held me by the hips, pulling me back onto it. Dear man. And Emily's laugh and her lips on my cheek, her tongue slipping into my mouth for I could not help myself. I was gone and she knew it, wicked girl.

It is not I who falls, it is Emily and her ilk who drag me down to sin. With their succulent cries and velvet touch and kisses so close to the Devil's den. With cock and hand and silky smile and a tremulous tongue along white thigh in the dark; a sucking mouth where none should be-to drive me out of my wits. Oh, it is the Black Heart who creeps in the dark places and seduces me, I know it! But he is so dastardly clever-oh, Jesis, Brownie-whoever you are!

Emily whispered, her lips on mine, her hands on my white and quivering tits, "Don't bite when you come, ma'am-" And I was off, screaming and flopping, for the madness enveloped me in its misty, stupefying arms, squeezing the juices from me and harassing me with anguish. The plunging prick wrenching me and thumping its crazy rhythm. From afar I could hear Brownie's voice, but not what he said, and Emily shout: "You're biting me, damme!"

And I was. Oh madness. I had bit her titty; the red nipple looked at me and blushed still redder, and a vicious circle of teethmarks ringed it.

"Oh shit," Emily said, "ye'll ruin me, ma'am. Lor', can't you boot it 'thout raisin' a storm?"

Push back hard, onto the jabbing, stroking pole. Get it all, grim battle. Fuck me, Brownie, hurry. I'm thinking beautiful thoughts to ease the sin. Fuck me and keep it coming. Kiss the titty, suck it and soothe it.

"Yeh," she said, hot breath on my face as she leaned close. Her hands all over my breasts, squeezing and kneading. Suck her hard-but titty has no taste. Lovely to feel, to lick, soft as silk and pouting nipple, it makes her squirm. But it has no taste.

"Lor', don't dig your fingers into me like that," Emily hissed, struggling.

I had her by the quiff. The curly hair. Stop protesting. I want to taste her. Lick her belly and she moans. The cock is ramming me, making juicy sounds, and Brownie's hands vie with Emily's to feel me, for she is writhing now, my tongue in her bellybutton. Hands on her, spreading her, tearing her dress away, chemise torn. I have to taste you, Emily!

"Oh, Jezis, ma'am-" Her shapely legs sprawl, bare, and the dark hair sprouts, a forest of fascination. It squirms and bucks and hunches close. For an instant the cunt gapes, red and slithering, coral lips and proffered clit. My mouth closes over it and Brownie plunges deep, grabbing me and ramming harder than ever. I want to scream, but the cunt has a life of its own. We roll and twist and it is voracious as a shark. Oh, what a taste!

I can hear her scream. Brownie's panting breath, his lunges are spasmodic, jerky. All of us coming, rearing, bucking and heaving. Tempestuous. Paradise is a cock in the coozie.

Ah, the lovely taste of you, Emily! The feel of you. Shuddering, groaning, sighing as the madness creeps away. The long delectable siesta of pleasure, titties tender and smouldering, delicate to the touch. Pouting quims with the dying sensation relaxing them. Sleep.

I did not learn till the next day that Brownie was Harry's driver. I had seen him often, but always in his black uniform with the topper and feather, and never close up in the daylight.

I knew that he had seen me with Harry in the carriage. Me with legs in the air, being pounded in a corner of the seat. Embarrassment.

"Don't you fret, ma'am," Emily said to me, seeing my frown. "Brownie, he won't tell a livin' soul; he don't talk much any'ow. Ain't 'e got a larky cock?"

He lived in the basement with the other servants, for our apartments were more like a dozen in the building; and I found that Brownie was not Harry's own driver, but had his rig and hired out to all. He was not married, so Emily said, and I knew she had his history.

"'E does the 'andy work about, ma'am. 'E goes out at night mostly with the rig." She giggled at me, and moved her wanton's hips suggestively. "'Avin' a 'andy man in the place is dandy for when a girl gets lonely. Don't you think, ma'am?"

I did indeed, though I would not say so to her.

I hired Brownie to take me to the Reverend Twistle. Oh, I needed him so. Sin was clambering about the walls and shouting to me. I felt so guilty and a trifle depressed about it. For, as I have said, I am a virtuous girl and will always do the right thing as Mother taught me.

'Twas late afternoon when I reached the Reverend's study. I asked Brownie to fetch me in an hour and he went off with a nod.

The Reverend was delighted to see me. He hugged me and kissed me like a lover, till his exuberance was shed and he begged my pardon for showing his extreme feeling thus.

"I have thought about you so often, Nell, this past week."

His hands seemed to caress me, dear man. I doffed my cloak and the shawl about my head and sat with him on a comfy sofa, his hands about mine. I told him, haltingly, of my sins and the terrible thoughts I had nursed of wicked things.

He shook his head sadly. "Yes, my dear, it is like a great tidal wave which we must sop with a blotter. The Hoofed One gallops about at night when decent folk are asleep and does his nefarious deeds. He is always a jump ahead of us. It is a sad thing, but truth must be faced."

My wish to be cleansed was almost overpowering. I edged closer, pulling his hands to my tits, forgetting.

I begged his pardon and he forgave me, precious man. "You are distraught, dear Nell. We must seek to combat the transgressions that stalk you."

He turned down the lights and removed my clothes. 'Twas all I could do to wait for him to come to me. To lay me down. Bless you, Reverend sir. Bless you and bless that wonderful churchly wand.

You pant so, Reverend Twistle, for the labor is tempestuous. Oh, drive it in! Oh pray with me, iniquity begone! Itch begone! Lust and desire attack me not in future.

Oh God! Fuck me, Reverend!

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was shortly after, a day or so, that Cora Pearl and Mr. Linke returned-while Harry was sitting in the parlour with me on his lap. Harry loved to nurse a red nipple peeping from my bodice and listen to my giggles.

The bell jangled and he looked up, annoyed.

Emily came in, shrugging. "It's the Linkes, sir. Wot'll I tell 'em?"

"Cora Pearl and Mr. Linke?" I said in astonishment.

She nodded. Harry growled. "What do they want?"

"I don't know, sir."

She called him 'sir' when her uniform was on straight, and 'Arry' in bed.

Harry looked at me, considering, his blue eyes frosty. He dumped me off his lap and stood up, pacing back and forth while I put my tits to rights.

"All right," he said finally to Emily. "Send 'em in here, I'll have to see them sooner or-" He looked at me. "You go to your room, darling."

I went dutifully, for Harry is the master in his house, though I would have liked to see Cora Pearl and even Mr. Linke-though he had had me when I was weakened.

Emily brought me tea a little later, and shook her head. "They're quarreling some'ing fierce, ma'am."

I sent her back to the kitchen, and then sinful curiosity took hold of me. I went to the sitting room door and listened, and could hear everything that was said.

Mr. Linke was not angry, but was chuckling, I thought, in a sort of nasty way. "You ain't got any choice, Mr. Winfield," he said. "It don't do t'carry on that way."

Harry was angry. "You're a pack of thieves-"

"Ah now, words an' slander, Mr. Winfield."

"You ought t'be in gaol, the lot of you!"

"Gaol's for them as deserves it, sir. All we is askin' is a trifle. A trifle, Mr. Winfield."

"You know she doesn't give me that much," Harry said, terrible angry. "I'm lucky to be able to afford this place!"

"Ah now-"

"Do you want to turn me out? Why kill the goose that lays the golden eggs? You'll get nothing and gain nothing."

Mr. Linke cleared his throat, and I could almost see his bulldog face wincing up. "'Tis a wanton thing you say, there. We've no desire to turn you out, sir. But I think me you plays loose wi' the truth, sir. Oh my, yes'.' "Without her I'm a pauper," Harry almost yelled. "All right, you know that. How you found out-' He sighed deeply and my heart went out to him, though I could not understand what he was meaning. "She gives me twenty-five pounds a week for expenses, not a shilling more. It's a thing we've agreed on long past."

"Oh, I think it's more," Mr. Linke said.

"It is not!" Harry shouted.

"Gennelmen!" Cora Pearl said.

"If you demand fifteen pounds a week I cannot pay," Harry said. "It's outrageous. I'll give you five."

"Tut, tut," said Mr. Linke. "You force us to go to Miz Winfield. Now we don't want t'do that."

"You're thieves!" Harry screamed.

"Stand back there," Mr. Linke said sternly. "I ain't come here unarmed, Mr. Winfield."

I slid to the floor. Miz Winfield? Was it true-Harry was married? After all his denials? My heart jumped in my breast. It pounded and I bit my lips in anguish. Oh, Harry -you have lied to me!

"We's poor, gentle folk," Cora Pearl said.

I heard a sofa squeak. Harry's voice came low, so low I almost missed hearing it, mingled with a sigh. "I'll give you ten-"

"Ten pounds a week, sir?"

"Yes."

"Ever' week, sir?"

"Yes, though God knows it'll stretch me fearfully."

"'Tis a shame, havin' to keep up two 'ouse'olds, sir." Mr. Linke said with a trace of the nasty in his voice.

"There's no need to rub my nose in it," Harry said. "I'll send you the money tomorrow. What's your address?"

"Oh no, sir. We need it today, now, sir."

"Thieves!" Harry yelled. "You'll milk me dry and you'll get nothing!"

I was about crying. All that I had held dear was tumbling about my ears. Cora Pearl and Mr. Linke were not honest tradespeople! Harry had told me but I had not believed him. And Harry-Oh, Harry! You led me on. You made me love you and you twisted my love and dirtied it. You are not what you seemed to be. Grief settled down about me like a mantle. I cried silently, listening to them berate each other.

What will become of me? For I cannot go on loving Harry and living under his false roof-paid for by his true wife. Harry was a gigolo. Oh, Harry! Your eyes are so blue!

I went back to the bedroom and laid across the bed. Where could I go? I had no home. I had nothing. I was lost.

Emily brought me tea, and sat on the edge of the bed. "'Ere, drink this, ma'am, it'll ease the twitchin'."

"Harry's got a wife," I said to her, teary and down-mouthed.

She nodded sadly. "Yes, ma'am. 'E 'as."

"He lied to me."

"Men allus do that," she said. "They got a way with 'em, men does."

"She's paying for all this."

"Yes, ma'am. Sit up an' drink the tea. You got a hanky?"

I sat up and dabbed at my poor eyes.

"I put a little gin in it," she said.

"I can't stay here, Emily."

"Sure you can, ma'am. Wot the 'ell? You stayed this long, ain't you? Wot's the diff'rence now?"

The tea was hot. I sighed. "I just can't."

"Where'll you go then?"

"I don't know." I looked at the tea, swirling depths, brown like a muddy river. "I don't much care."

"That ain't no thing t'say. You needs a hot bath an' some soup-"

"Where's Harry?"

"'E went out with them Linkes, but 'e'll be back to comfort you, dearie."

I sighed deep and drank the tea. He'd be back to tell me more lies. You lie, Harry, you know.

Drying my eyes bravely, I sat up and looked at Emily. "Get my clothes and things together, Emily, for I will shed this house."

"Oh, ma'am!"

"Then pack them and call Brownie. I will go away and Harry will never find me."

"That ain't best, ma'am."

"Do what I say, Emily!"

She rose and sighed in her turn. "Yes ma'am." She slouched from the room, and I heard her rooting about in the closets, and tossing Madam Hovis' finest gowns on the bed. At least I had pretty clothes. Paid for by Harry's wife. That pleased me some, till I thought of the Reverend Twistle; he would not approve erring thought. I went to help her.

We had two large boxes and a valise when we finished, and Emily went downstairs and yelled for Brownie. I dressed sedately in a Parisian corset, chemise and a black gown that set off my sadness. And a veil.

When Brownie came in, he stared. His mouth went round but he said nothing, merely swallowed and I knew what he was thinking, the male. How he had had me over the bed. And now I looked so queenly and powdered.

"Carry 'em down to the carriage," Emily told him, importantly. "Poor Nell is leavin' us."

"Aw," Brownie said, with his beagle's eyes on me. I nodded. He shrugged and picked up the boxes. Emily followed with the valise and a bottle of gin which she pressed into my hand.

"'E owes you it, ma'am. 'Ave a drink on 'Arry."

I put it in my purse and kissed her on the cheek. Brownie combed his lank hair and helped me into the carriage, the one I had known so well when Harry had did me in the woods. Right there, in the corner. I patted the place.

I heard Brownie cluck up the horse and we were away. I looked out to waggle my fingers at Emily; she was tearful, doubtless wondering what she would tell Harry. He would be sore. Yes, he would indeed. The street was noisy and soothed me some, for I had not run away like this before. Would Harry be very angry?

I sat with my thoughts for a long bit, not looking at the scene, staring out but seeing nothing. The clop-clop of the horse and the sounds of the city were comforting, the yells and thunder of wagons. Oh Harry, your eyes were so blue.

The carriage stopped and I looked up to see we were at the edge of a park. Brownie climbed down and stuck his head in the door. "Where we going, ma'am?"

I blinked at him. Where indeed? I had thought only of getting away.

"'Ow about Percy's?"

"Who's Percy?"

"'E runs a 'otel, ma'am. A fine fella is Percy. You got any money, Nell?"

I bit my lip. Money. I looked in my purse, putting aside the gin. Yes, I had money-a few pounds and some shillings. I tinkled them and Brownie nodded gravely. He climbed back to the seat and we went on. Percy's Hotel was a less than grand establishment, tucked between a music hall and a Hot Baths. The neighborhood had an air and an odor to it. It was run-down and gray by daylight, with garish signs and a sprinkling of sporting types dressed in loud clothes. There were women too; I blushed to see their brazen stares. Was I another to compete with them? I longed to say nay.

But no one molested me with Brownie. He was a big fellow, stout, with an appearance of a rock and fists like cabbages in size. He ignored the stares and the shrugs and lifted me down to the walk as though I weighed only a shadow of my scaling. Taking up my boxes and the valise, he nodded his head and I walked before him into the hotel. I walked across a Turkey carpet in a foyer close with smelly tobacco and dust. There was an aspidistra and gold-framed looking glass behind the letter boxes, an elegance that one would not suspect from the street. And Mr. Percy was the most elegant of all. I knew it was him instantly.

He was large and fat, with drooping jowls and a cupid's smile. He had a fluff of hair with spitcurls on the forehead, I swear! His green pea eyes saw me instant, as soon as I brushed across the door, and he fussed with a brass tinker on the desk yet watched me cross the rug. I thought I saw a flicker of something cross between him and Brownie.

I should have been more observant, but I was flustered with the running from Harry. All I wanted was a room to brood and drink my gin-sip my gin.

"Ah yes, madam," Percy said, dripping unctuousness and glancing at Brownie. "Put them down, my man."

"Put 'er in fifteen, Percy," Brownie said and Percy sniffed, sighed, then grunted, pushing across a register for me to sign.

Brownie took the quill out of my hand. Without a word he scratched a name on the blue line where Percy's thumb still rested. I looked at it curious, Mary Smithe.

"In the back, ma'am," Brownie remarked to me, and I turned. I heard him say something to Percy, but he followed me to the stairs immediate. We went up two flights and to the back, stuffy, smelly, and small, narrow halls. A lingering odor of gas jets and dust. A sign that said 'Fire stairway' at the back. A painted-on number fifteen and Brownie opened the door for me, clanking the lock and snapping it back.

It was a square room with a once-yellow carpet and a sofa and two chairs, all wilted. But clean, and a small bed in the next room; three jets and a washstand. Home?

I could cry. Oh Harry, why did you lie to me?

Brownie put the valise and the boxes in the middle of the floor. He shut the door and smiled at me. "You going to be comfy here, Nellie. Percy is a good sort. He don't like wimmin-"

"Don't like?" That surprised me.

"'E likes boys, Nellie." Brownie put out his red tongue like a striking snake and waggled it an instant. I stared and blushed.

"If you gets hungry, Miz Percy does cooking and she is a hand at mutton."

I was surprised again. "Miz Percy?"

Brownie smiled broadly, his large face split to show rows of shining teeth like a whale. "They're married, ma'am, but they don't fuck. It's to bamboozle the law. Name of Lily Percy, hers is." He looked at me, I thought, very blandly. "She'll like you, Nell."

I nodded and went in and sat on the bed. It was not lumpy, and rather firm. I patted the pillow, thinking of the times I had-Oh Harry!

"You ain't in the mood now," Brownie said, coming to the door, stroking his huge chin. "I be back later-"

"Don't tell anybody where I am!" I almost yelled at him.

He went to the door and smiled at me. Then he was gone. I stared at the closed door in some little consternation. I was alone! In a strange hotel, in a doubtful area of town. I could hear piano music from the outside, muffled and remote. A woman's cry, not in pain, but in laughter- or something else. For a long time I stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door. Emily had said I was doing wrong to leave. Was she right?

I shuddered and went back to the bed, staring out of a grimy window pane through yellow curtains. There was nothing to see. Oh, how lonely I felt!

Harry should be back to the apartment by now, and have found I was gone. It gave me a twinge of pleasure to feel that he would miss me. He would, would he not? Or would he merely replace me?

Men have ways, as Emily said. Why are men so difficult? They are never what you want, and they lie. Yes, they lie. Smilingly.

By evening I was hungry and I ventured down to the foyer, clad in a taffeta rustle with button shoes. Mr. Percy rolled his pea eyes and said something to a curtain behind him, and out popped a lovely girl. She smiled at me.

"Come here, Miss Nell," Percy said and smiled his cupid's smile-like wasp-stung lips with a trace of rouge on them, I was sure. "I want you to meet my wife."

"I'm Lily," the girl said, and she was ten years his junior, smiling and looking me over till I almost blushed. She took my hand and came around the teak counter, pressing it warmly. She was a dear girl, so friendly.

"You two will get on fabulously," Mr. Percy said. "'Ow about a sip of wine, Miss Nellie?"

I said I would like it and Lily led me through the curtain to the back-their apartment I saw at once. It had the look of home, with carpets well-worn and pictures of the hunt on the walls, and the Queen. It smelled of meat and sauce and fish and beer.

Lily was dark, like a madonna, with pale skin and lustrous brown eyes and a full mouth like a Spaniard. She looked at me while she poured out red wine, and looked at me so that I almost picked up my skirts and ran out. Oh, what a look! She frightened me, and her only a handful. She had a direct gaze like a man, and she looked at my tits and I thought she smiled like a cat over nip.

"Let's drink to us, Nellie," she said, and we clinked glasses like a couple of swells at a ball. She winked at me. "We'll be great friends, I know."

I sipped the wine; it had a bite to it but tasted fine and Lily came and sat by my side on the couch. I glanced into her brown eyes tinged with violet and flecked with slivers of gold. Lustrous eyes that seemed to be drawing to a boil. For Lily was breathing hard, or deeply, I knew not which.

"Such a skin," she said, and touched my wrist, which I drew away at once. Her touch was hot, and I was becoming flustered. What did she want of me?

"I came-er-to see about food," I said as quickly as I could, to change the subject. "Brownie said-"

"Food!" she exclaimed, as though I had said something clever. "Of course, you're hungry!"

She got up at once and went into the kitchen, singing to herself and putting her dark head around the curtain that divided the room to gaze at me now and again. I heard pans rattle and glasses clink. It was a homey sound and I began to relax. Lily was a lovely girl, after all.

I finished the wine and as I did so, she came and poured more. I knew she had been watching. When she poured it she leaned close for an instant and kissed me lightly on the cheek. The sparkle in her eyes was something to see.

"Oh, you darling," she cried, "I'm so glad you've come to stay with us."

The cooking smells relaxed me even more. I drank the wine, and poured a wee drop to further savor the delicious flavor, so unlike gin it was. Lily brought me a bit of meat to taste, and as I did so she ran her hand through my hair, sitting close. I smelled her perfume, dainty as a fluff of mist.

"Are you running from a man?" she whispered to me, and I nodded without thinking.

"Men!" she sighed deeply and her lips brushed my cheek, and as I turned she giggled lightly and kissed me a dewdrop on the lips.

The kiss burned me and I was startled, though I should not have been. Her lecherous hand trailed its way across my tits and up to bring my chin around. She kissed me again, lightly then more ardently. Oh, wicked girl! But such a compelling kiss!

All at once I felt my itch returning. It made me squirm and Lily misunderstood, thinking I wriggled from her caress. But I broke away, breathing hard, and she jumped to her feet laughing and ran to the kitchen.

I gazed at her lissom back, biting my lip. Pity me! for I struggle against the sins of the flesh-I do indeed. My bosom heaved, and I calmed myself thinking of Reverend Twistie. Dear man. Sweet man, and my savior. It gave me strength to think of him.

I patted my hair and sipped the wine, confident now. My thoughts of Reverend Twistie would protect me come what may. Such good wine. I poured another dollop.

Lily came back, kittenish, I thought. She gave me yet another morsel of meat and a kiss, then a sip of wine and a kiss-and another kiss, and another. Goodness, I spilled the wine. Mop it up, Lily-oh, your hands are so warm! So warm. Unhook the bodice-yes, dear me, what am I saying?

God! Lily, the wine is heating my brain. You are squirming with me-my tits in your hands. Bare. Oh, my God! Lily, your kisses inflame me! What hunger, what rapture! Can I have a little more wine?

The pangs of agitation, the hands of indulgence, of doting, subtle titillation. Lily, you are everywhere, your clinging contact, your mouth-where are my good intentions? What is good anyhow? My brain whirls with thought, mustn't think. Jesus! What are you doing now?

My chemise, Lily! Oh, you make me squirm and wriggle! Fuck me-Oh, you can't, can you? Then kiss me, yes, kiss me! Your fingers are searching my satiny thighs, I feel them, hot and licentious, stroking me, feeling me, loving me. Can fingers love? Love me, Lily, for I am revelling in the warmth of you. Oh, my God! Lily-three fingers in me!

The room swims, molten and glaring. Velvet lips, a riot of compelling sensuous energy; my nerve-endings scream a message of devotion, oh, ravish me!

The wine again. It had caught me in a feverish net. My passions erupted, 'Twas torture to keep them in check. A froth of lace, and Lily's mouth on me, lapping and loving, and kissing and tonguing. I screamed out in drenching abandonment, body twisting and shuddering. The excruciating torment of love, of climax!

Lily, I love you!

Do with me what you will, I cannot refuse you. I want you so. Your whispers, warm in my ear, your tongue in my ear, convulsing me. Your kisses on my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. Oh, suck them, darling... bite them!

Lily, you are naked! Lecherous minx!

The clink of glasses and wine is poured. I hear myself giggling as I sip the blood-red liquid. It spills and Lily's mouth is after it-licking and laughing, and I spill more. I am naked to the waist. Oh, warmth! Oh wine and coral nipples, sweet and pouting. Firm titties, luxurious to kiss. I wish you had a cock, Lily!

Kisses, lips squiggling, flaming, a frigging tongue between mine-fingers on my cunt. "You're mine," Lily whispers and bites my ear.

I want her to fuck me, the itch will not be appeased. I writhed in convulsive ferment, a paroxysm of bliss and pulsing anguish. Jerking in passion, of climax again!

Screams filled the room-was it me? Hands carried me, strong hands, and I felt the down of a bed. I rolled and found myself near naked, clothes gone. Giggles. Warmth flooded over me, Lily's warm and tender body, her mouth on me-where it could excite me and tantalize me.

"Lord, she's a beauty, she is," a man said.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark, only a single candle flickered on the sideboard and was reflected in a murky mirror with cupids twined about the edges. A man's form moved and I fastened my gaze upon it, Percy.

"Go away, she's mine," Lily said with a hiss of breath. I felt her strip the rest of the clothes from me, and I giggled, tasting her kisses and the wine. Love, love, beautiful love!

"A delectable thing," Percy said, and I heard the admiration in his husky voice.

I smirked at him, the wine made my hand reach out toward him-and suddenly it contained a man's penis. I cried out in delight and pulled on it.

"Damn," Lily said, "can't you keep off her?"

"Just a taste," Percy said wheedlingly.

I blinked, seeing him duck his head, and I opened my thighs. His hot tongue licked up my slit and I screamed at the feel of it-white hot!

He chuckled, deep in his throat as Lily cried with me and clasped me to her. I felt her lips and her hands-and then I felt him. He came up close between my thighs and put his dong where men do. I gasped under Lily's kiss, feeling the cock in me. She kissed me more passionately thinking that I squirmed from her love.

And Mr. Percy fucked me hard and fast.

Lily growled like a tigress when she discovered him prodding me. She pushed him away and I moaned, feeling it part from my quiff. Don't tease me so!

"She's mine!" Lily hissed at him, baring her white teeth.

"'Ere, you've left me wi' this great stickin' thing," he protested, waggling his prong, dripping wet. "'Tis yours, find a hole for it."

"Lily, my love! Lily-!"

She gathered me up, caressing me, like an animal at feed. Looking at him with baleful eyes, licking me, kissing me. Oh, I wanted that cock! Mr. Percy edged near, the thing stuck out so. I tried to push out my butt, but Lily pulled me back, slapping me sharply so that I cried out.

She writhed over my body, supine on the bed, she cooed to me, licking my lips, kissing me and cuddling my head to stroke my hair. And Mr. Percy's wanton hand slipped up my thigh and dabbled in my cunt. Ohhhh, rapture! She gave me budding tits to suck, 'Twas only a pinch of mine, with red nipples like tin, but she squealed as I bit them, there was sensation there for all their smallness.

And Mr. Percy frigged me. Licentious man.

She whispered and licked me. "You beautiful thing, you luscious apricot, you delectable darling-" It would have been impossible for me to contain myself under that swooning ballet. I felt the welling dream, the cosy, yet cosmic bursting that streaked out to every fingertip-and erupted in my coozie and shot streaks of flame to the ceiling, or so it seemed.

"God's teeth!" Mr. Percy exclaimed, "she's a very storm!"

I burst from Lily's embrace and scrambled to him-oh, I wanted that cock! She screamed and clawed me, but I had him about the waist as he chuckled. He fell back on the bed and I got my flailing legs about him and heard myself shrieking. "Put it in me, put it in me!"

Ah, 'tis a wonder I have not sunk to be a slattern. For 'tis true the Mercies have sheltered me and guided me and the Good Lord has given me my Savior and rubbed salve in the wounds of life. The Wicked Tempter has goaded me and dogged my path, but I am underneath a virtuous girl.

I got it in me, all of it! Oh yes, despite Lily, in my madness, I got it in me, blessed lance. Giver of release and velvet dreams. We humped like two barnyard furries, me atop him and Lily screaming that Percy was a spiteful, farting blackleg to thus steal my cunt-oh, she was angry!

'Twas a terrible tussle on the bed, linens all of a bundle and torn, pillows on the floor and Lily shouting and pummeling, Mr. Percy puffing and jerking. Poor Mr. Percy, come for his taste of a girl and staying for a wrestle on the bed-which I found he did not particularly enjoy.

Mr. Percy was a queer sort of fellow, as I found, a dabbler and a curious mind. He wanted but a taste of me, that was true, and when I fucked him he humped for his prick betrayed him, but his heart was not in it if he could not tease Lily.

He squirmed away from me as I shuddered and went limp through the failings of the flesh-Oh, deadly, slithering snake embedded in me, spitting and throbbing. Lily's mouth embraced me to roll with me in tempestuous oscillation, licking out in fury and agitation. She was a total wanton, that one! Red lips to cunt lips, sucking and panting, twitching in fiery rhythm. Lily, you can have me!

What a wild and boiling tribute! The bed was a molten playground. Voracious assaults and berserk mouths-and me in the middle of it all. Twisting and sighing in beautiful release; moaning and caressing her for she was love and anguish all at the same time. And Mr. Percy sitting by the bed, smoking a cigar, watching us and patting my rump. "Oh, she's a dear-" Lily's glowing eyes, blinking at him through the tangle of my curls, her tongue slashing my clit to heighten my tremors. Oh, Lily, I love you dear, and revolve my Venus mound against your lips, coral lips and darting tongue. Jezis! Suck me, Lily!

I drifted off, laved and satisfied, stupefied more like. And Lily soothed me sweetly, nestling between my satin thighs, kissing the clit and nursing it, cooing to it and licking it in subtle reverie. How pleasant is the idyll of love. Sighs and wine to soothe the most voracious itch.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"You poor darling," said Reverend Twistle. "You're all pale and tired looking. Have you eaten?"

I sat down on his couch and sighed, for he was right. Pale. Yes, I was pale; I had seen it myself in the mirror, and no rouge would conceal it. 'Twas Lily's loving did it.

Insatiable.

Oh, dear Lord, how insatiable! Morning, day and afternoon, eveningtide and night. Sucking me crazy!

"Sin," said Reverend Twistle sadly, nodding his sweet head and patting my hands. "You have sinned, Nellie, haven't you?"

I took a breath. Dare I tell him of the depths of my transgressions?

"You skin is transparent, Nellie. You need a rest, girl. You're delicate-"

"Oh no, sir."

He cocked his head at me. "Beautiful and delicate, in an especially entrancing way. No one has your petite loveliness, Nell. It grips my heart to see you tired and overwrought thus. Can you come to stay with me for a time?"

I bit my lip. How I would love it! My desire to be with him showed in my face for he squeezed my hands and kissed them impulsively.

Then I thought of Lily. She would be furious! "Come back at once, darling," she had said to me, holding my hand to the door and rubbing her other on my backside.

"A man has possessed you again?" the good man asked.

I took a breath. "Yes-and no, Father."

His eyebrows went up.

"I am loved by-by-er-"

"Goodness, a woman?"

"Yes sir, but not with goodness, sir."

He blinked at me, then sighed. "Yes, of course. A lesbian would go wild over your beauty, Nell. I can understand it." He sighed deeply. "And you-how do you respond to this-love?"

I swallowed, avoiding his eyes.

I heard him sigh. "Ah, the world is overburdened with wickedness." He rose, clasping his hands, his short figure paced the floor and he looked at me with compassion-and something else-in his kind eyes. He loved me, I knew he did, as he loved all God's creatures. Did he love me a trifle more, perhaps?

"We must resist, Nellie. God does not smile on such unnatural love. I am sure she possesses you, is it not so?"

"Oh yes, sir."

"Tell me about it."

With a sigh, I told him all. How I had run from Harry Winfield in Brownie's carriage, and how I came to Percy's Hotel, and how Lily had undressed me and fed me wine and had me-and Mr. Percy too.

Reverend Twistle nodded his dear head during my recital, asking no questions, but nodding and shaking his head, pacing, hands behind him.

Then he led me to the couch and sat beside me.

"Now we must pray, Nellie."

I bent my head dutifully and his arms went about me, holding me close in the warmth of God, and he prayed softly in my ear. "God protect and guide this erring child, for she is weak and sensitive and cannot abide the awful rigors of life and is susceptible to sin. Forgive her, Father."

His nimble fingers untied my bows and opened my bodice, baring my tits.

"Forgive her every transgression and thought of misdeed, however slight, for she is virtuous and good deep down-" I leaned against him, smiling and safe, feeling his warm questioning hands on my naked breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he spoke: "Cleanse her, Lord, on these secret places, and give her Your protection and Your smile should she falter again. Do not turn Your face from her, Lord, for she is good, and she is faithful-" I squirmed in his arms, tits pouting, and felt his unchecked hands roving down, down, down over my thighs, outspread now, up under my skirts on my silky skin-to my twitching quiff! Oh bless me, Reverend!

"You dear child," he whispered.

I writhed, panting and sighing under his busy fingers. Do not tease me, Reverend-I grabbed at his organ, finding it pushing out his churchments.

"-let us just slip out of this skirt-"

"Hurry, sir!"

"It is your outgoing nature, Nellie," he said, "That makes you so attractive and lovely. Oh, we have a road to travel, you and I!"

"Dear Jesus!" I said, "Fuck me, Reverend!" I was panting furiously, and bucking a bit, I confess. I had quite forgot that we did not fuck, him and I, we merely fought the Devil with his own weapons.

"Close your eyes, Nellie, and pray," said Reverend Twistle softly, climbing on me. I felt his hands sweep my underthings aside and I could hardly contain myself, knowing what was to come.

I closed my eyes as he instructed, but my brain was on fire. I could not pray, no words came to me-just get it in me! Hurry!

It came, lunging and driving in deep-for I heaved myself to meet it, to force it to plunge. I gasped, feeling the strength of it in me, the spearing, velvet force of it. Oh, my God! Reverend, Fuck me, ram me! Whatever you call it.

He was panting too, immersed in his duties. His stroking tool avid, his loins undulating, butting me, thumping me, and I held him tightly, smilingly, swallowing his lance up my quim and squeezing it warmly-as warmly as I could.

Oh, nothing beats prayer!

"Are you praying?" he asked softly.

"Huh?" I opened my eyes, looking at his dear face just above me. Feeling his dong moving so sweetly.

"Never mind," he said. "I will pray for both."

I twined my legs about his body, squeezing and writhing sinuously, for I could not help that. Sin or no.

"Oh, dear Lord-!" he said.

"I'm gonna come, Reverend," I gulped.

"Jesus!" he gasped, beginning, I am sure, a prayer.

I could not help anything-bucking up against him, screaming in his ear as the tempestuous sensation flooded me, driving all else from my being but the white heat of gratification.

We rolled from the couch, thumping the floor, and I scarcely noticed at the time, only holding him and scissoring him. My paroxysms lasted and lasted, for his cock pumped in me to sustain them: Darling Reverend.

"Oh, Nellie," he breathed, "you are in dire need of prayer and cleansing thought."

I tried to speak, to tell him I knew he was right, but I was trembling and shuddering in the surrender of ravishment. He jiggled my quiff and punched it with his dragon and I could hardly keep from giggling over the delicious fantasy. My head bumped the floor and his knees slid along the polished wood.

"Let us get up, Nell dear-" I held him, arms and legs, for I could not bear to part with that lovely rod. Burying my face in his chest, I let him struggle and wheeze, getting to his knees with me about him, writhing and squeezing him to prevent the precious lance from squishing out the scabbard.

He mumbled words, and he strained, but he got me up and put my back on the couch again. I cooed and snuggled closer and for a moment he was berserk fury, driving the brawny cock into me so that I cried out in pleasure at the thrusting. You are a good man, Reverend Twistle!

He was doubled over, pumping me, panting, gasping, and belabouring me with rapturous energy-and I felt the sudden surge of his juices spitting and spewing into me.

Twas a violent fusing for the space of several moments. The demons cried out as the Reverend's phallus battered them and inundated them, and his prayers singed their slimy ears.

Oh fuck me in a churchly way!

CHAPTER NINE

I missed Harry-oh, how I missed him! The terrible things men do, and yet we love them. The old, old story. Such a fine gent, he was. With his tan and his deep voice and his blue, so blue, eyes.

And his long, pacifying organ; that played such tunes on my soul, wicked though it might be.

Brownie drove me back to Mr. Percy's hotel, and in the carriage I thought over again all the delightful times that Harry had had me in the corner of the seat. I was cleansed and the guilt slid off me easily, so I told myself.

Brownie turned and looked at me as though he could read my thoughts. It made me blush to know what he was thinking. And when he halted the carriage at the hotel, he insisted on coming in with me.

"I'll just see you to your room, Nell," he said, whip in hand. He squinted round the lobby, ignoring the elegant form of Mr. Percy. He took my arm and up the stairs we went. "I've come for me fare," he said in a whisper.

I put the key in the lock of number fifteen and fumbled in my purse, but Brownie led me into the room and closed the door firmly.

"I'm not a sow, Nellie."

I looked at him blankly, not comprehending his meaning.

"I ain't a pig," he said, and pulled me to the couch. "Jus' a wee fuck, Nell-" I gasped as he pulled me to his lap and made me spraddle out, skirts up. He had them up with both hands in a silky flourish that bared my thighs and I yelped.

"Now, now, we've 'ad it afore, girl."

I was helpless in his huge hands, a rag doll. There was aught I could do but obey. With round eyes I saw his immense erect truncheon jutting from his stained pantaloons.

"Jus' come sit on it, Nell-" I swallowed hard, feeling his hands on my hips, pulling me down. He leaned back, a smile on his broad face; a finger guided it and I felt it suddenly. The head of the thing poked me on the clit, then it slid in.

"Oh, Brownie!"

It was in a yard-deep and powerful, a column of marble, a weapon, a pump! He pumped it. He stretched me, the tool was larger than its sheath, but it hurt little.

"Ow, you feel it, girl?"

"Jesus, Brownie!"

He bounced me on it, tits jiggling.

He laughed, ramming upward, plunging the great rod into the very center of my itch. I giggled with him.

"Ain't it fine?"

I lowered my eyes chastely, and squeezed the cock with my muscles; I knew he could feel it. Harry could. Brownie patted my tits and licked his lips.

"Yer a fine gal, Nellie. Make me 'member to gi' you a message."

"What message?"

"I tole ye, girl, wait."

"But, Brownie-!"

"Damn, I got to fuck ye first!" He rubbed my tits while I pouted at him and bit my lip. I let him undo the ties and open my bodice-I could not prevent it anyhow. The huge stalk soothed me up the middle and I wriggled on it with almost contentment-a message?

He took almost one entire tit in his mouth and sucked. I squirmed; he tickled me on the quim at the same time with his finger, oh, you cocksman, Brownie!

When he let it go, the tit waggled wet and rubbery, nipple hard as a walnut. I giggled and fed him the other. He fed me the cock, up and down, up and down. The couch squeaked under his weight.

Someone knocked on the door.

I jumped, but Brownie continued to suck the tit. He looked up at me and shook his head. And fucked me.

Lily's voice asked, "Nellie, are you there, darling?"

"She knows I am," I whispered.

He sighed and took his mouth from the mammary. "Tell 'er to wait."

"I'm dressing," I called.

"Oh, then let me in," she sounded eager.

Brownie shook his head, and went back to the tit.

"I-er-can't," I said. "Come back later."

There was a pause. "You've got Brownie in there," she accused. "What're you doing?"

Brownie's face clouded. "That's Lily," he said to me. He roared out: "Fucking!"

I heard Lily's gasp. Then there was silence.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," I said. But Brownie merely shrugged.

"She knows whot we's a-doing."

I bit my lip, looking at the door. But I could not long concentrate on Lily. The avid tool pumped me, stirring me, so recently stirred by the good cleric. It was longer and stouter than Reverend Twistle's sweet wand.

And when it spouted, I thought 'twould flood me, so thick and smoky did it flow! Brownie held me with both arms, about the middle, pumping it up as hard as he could go. I could only moan and receive it, for the shaft had evoked the mystical God of Screw and I was on the fucking verge-and then over.

Brownie had a handful, with me squirming and bouncing. I heard his chuckle, and the cock thrust and poked. I pirouetted over it, squealing with pleasure, clutching him to stay skewered on the thing. Oh, you gorgeous spike!

He held me down on it, his passion fading, but the pecker standing strong and upright. He let me agitate on it, till I foundered stupefied with the bounty of it. Brownie, you fuck like a stud horse! I screamed out when he took me off it and sat me down beside him and mopped my quiff. "I ain't a pig, girl," he said.

"Put me to bed," I breathed, fondling the majesty of the prick.

He took it from me and it disappeared as I sighed. "I've a job t'do, girl. You think me a rich man?" He laughed and patted his pants-front. "Thankee, Nell, 'tis the best booting all week."

"Brownie, I hate you!"

He laughed and went to the door. "Ye'll not hate me w'en I come back an' gi' ye more o' that thing." He opened the door then paused and shut it again. "Oh, I was forgettin'-the message."

I sat up and put my skirts down, holding my two naked titties.

"'Arry wants ye t'come back to 'im." I sighed.

He smiled at my face. "'Arry ain't a bad sort, Nell. 'E plays fair as any. Will ye meet 'im an' talk?" I shook my head. "My mind is made up."

"-ah-'E knows where you are, Nellie." I stared at him, frowning. "Who told him?"

"I did. 'E paid me." I almost burst out crying. "Brownie!" He was silent for a time, standing at the door, looking at me as I sniffled. He shrugged and opened the door again and blew out his breath. '"E won't come for ye, girl. Not till I talks t'im."

"You're horrid!"

He nodded. "I know. But money talks. I ain't a rich bloke, an' Harry's wife, she's got plenty."

I buried my head on the bed, hearing the door close. Footsteps went along the hall and the room was silent.

Men. Even Brownie betrayed me. Me, a poor girl from the slums who would never climb out-because of men. Harry, I love you and you betrayed me too. I felt the sticky spend between my legs, Brownie's gift to me-his fare.

I was mopping it up when the door opened again and Lily came in. She saw instantly what I was doing, though I sought to hide the cloth.

"Oh, Nellie-you've been used, haven't you?" She came and sat on the edge of the bed, her great gray eyes luminous. She wore a simple white gown that reached to her ankles, and her chest heaved. Her fingers kept twining, one hand in the other.

I looked at her an instant, hung my head and nodded. Surely she could smell the odor of sex.

"Lecherous creatures, men," she said in a harsh voice. "Was it awful, Nell dear?"

I shook my head. "I've been had before." It was a cruel thing to say, perhaps. She began to cry.

I was surprised. I had thought Lily a tough one, leather and sinew, and she was suddenly acting like a woman-she certainly looked like one. Reaching out my hand, I stroked her arm from the shoulder.

Instantly she was in my arms, kissing me, sniffing, cuddling me. She had my blouse open, tits exposed and covered with hot kisses. I gasped, unable to push her away. "I love you," she was saying, softly, lips on my flesh, "I love you so-" Oh, Lily, you fire me! But I must be strong; for did not the good Reverend say that the Lord does not smile on-please Lily, you make me squirm! Oh no, you must not finger-Oh Lilly-Jesus! Get it in!

I have been pulled down again, curse sin! 'Twas not of my doing, for I warned her. Her kisses send shivers up my spine, they fog my brain, and her fingers at my quim confuse me.

"I love you, Nellie-!"

Her velvet mouth, darting tongue, the satiny feel of her. I can hear myself whimpering as she kisses me-I want her so, and yet I must be-I must be something, what can it be? Fuck me, Lily!

"Shush, darling," she whispered, slithering over me, tits hard against mine.

I felt her pulling up my skirts, cool air on my thighs; they part, I fling them apart, trembling as she seeks with her bold hands, her lips. The coolness fades, replaced by the heat of her mouth.

I screamed as she closed her lips over my slit. Oh, God! the passion of her! I squirmed in frantic lust; in a rapture of excruciating agony. Oh, suck me, Lily-my head is whirling! What am I? Dear Lord! I'm coming!

Such a spasm-my poor body has responded so splendidly today. Does it learn, improve, desire more? Surely it must. Your tongue explores me; in the midst of my anguish I can feel its caress-Oh Lily, yes, I love you.

I am floating in midair, held up by gossamer tongues and lissom titties, rubbing thighs, twisting and churning in murky rhythm. Sensation devours me, radiating from the mystical torture in my loins, still exquisite, still pulsating. I can hear myself crying, feel myself trembling. Lily's voice comes from a great distance- "Are you all right, darling?" I want to smile, to reassure her, but I cannot move or speak, only feel. Her kisses continue as I float-in water now, I feel it lapping against me, warm and soothing. "Please, Nellie, speak to me-say something!" There is an urgency in her voice, and finally I could turn my head and smile at her, weakly.

Her arms went round me and she kissed me tenderly. "Thank God! I was so worried, darling-you went crazy!"

I knew that-somehow I did.

"Are you all right?"

Oh, it was so warm in her arms. I was sleepy. Her voice faded, and was gone.

I slept.

I awoke to voices. It was dark in the room, gloomy. Light a candle, someone. I opened my eyes and peered around.

"Who's that?"

"-beautiful and shapely, m'lord. Got a bounce to 'er, too."

I felt the covers swept oft me, and for a moment I was too fuzzy with sleep to protest. I did not know I lay there naked to their gaze-whoever they were.

I smelled perfume, and the breath of a man as he came down close. I felt my thighs parted. That startled me, for I am not a wanton.

"A silky lass," a deep voice said. I felt a knee between my thighs-then his body laid along mine.

I yelped.

"Come now, Nellie," said Mr. Percy. "This here's M'Lord Falke, be nice t'im. Don't yell, girl."

My mouth opened-a Lord? A real Lord? While I hesitated, mouth open, wits askew, he put it in me. Yes, just shoved it in and buried it. Oh, my heavens! His cock in me, and no introduction, not proper.

"I-er-I'm Nell," I said.

The Lord smiled at me, his toothy smile inches away. "Johnny Falke," he said. "Pleased to meet you, my dear." The prick snaked in and out powerfully. Ohhh, it was a nipper! I looked up at Mr. Percy. He smiled benignly down upon us, hands folded across his ample paunch, cupid's bow mouth red as jam.

"Ain't she all I said, m'lord?"

Johnny Falke nodded, kissing my cheek. "She's a beauty, yes, a beauty-and tight."

I was fully awake now, feeling the fuck, the couch moving under me, squeaking its familiar tune, the heated breath-but not Mr. Percy's smile above me.

"Wot is this?" I asked.

"M'lord is screwin' you, dear."

"I know that!" I almost screamed. My legs were spread wide. His hands were exploring my tits.

"Gad, better than them whores of Billy's."

"I knew you'd like 'er, sir."

Turning my head from his kisses, I asked: "Excuse me, sir, but I don't understand. Wot is this?"

Falke giggled, his mouth on my neck, prick digging into me like fury. Delicious, but I forced myself to stare at Mr. Percy. He shrugged and produced a cigar, scratching a match and putting the flame to it. In the light I saw that Lord Falke's hair was black.

"Now, girl, don't carry on," Percy said waggling a fat finger at me. "'Tis an honor gettin' done by m'lord. See he likes you; wiggle, girl."

I writhed, and squeezed the cock with my muscles.

"Gad, that's good," Falke said, "Ye'll toss me off like that."

"Whatever it was," Mr. Percy said to me, "do it again."

I sighed and kept squeezing the pecker. I would have enjoyed the fuck but for Mr. Percy hovering over us, examining every motion with the eye of a buyer.

Lord Falke seemed not to mind in the least. He pronged me, hard and fast, panting in my ear, giggling a little, whispering now and then that I had a tight cunt-and then he shot all he had.

I felt it spurt, heard him gasp and drum me, batter me, then sigh long drawn out-and relax. He did it all too fast, leaving me hungry for more, just interested in fact.

"Oh yes, she's a screwer," Falk said admiringly.

"Didn't I tell ye?"

He relaxed on me for several moments more, kissed me lightly, then got up, the peter sopping, hanging loose.

Mr. Percy handed him a cloth and the Lord mopped the dong, smiling down at me. "Nellie, aye? That's a comely name, lass." He looked the cock over critically and put it away, patting the place where it went. I sat up, arranging my snatched-up gown over my white shoulders.

"She'll do," he said to Mr. Percy. "Send 'er to the house." He turned away as I sat open-mouth. Mr. Percy gave me a satisfied smile and opened the door for his lordship. I heard doors slamming.

Mr. Percy was back in a moment, eyes aglow, hands clasped, smiling. "Ye've done it, girl! 'E likes you!"

"You let 'im have me," I pouted. "And me asleep."

"Oh that-never mind a little fuck, Nellie, you've been chosen, and that's a fact!"

"Wot for?"

"'Is mistress, that's wot! Jezis, girl, don't you know nothink? Johnny Falke is the richest fucker in London- maybe the whole country. You're in now-"

"You mean he's in-me," I said.

Mr. Percy sat on the edge of the bed and puffed on the cigar. "You got a lot t'learn, Nellie; faith, I dunno if you'll do. You got this streak of obstinate."

"I'm not a whore," I almost shouted.

"'Course not! Jezis, did I say so? I said you're his mistress, there's a big diffr'nce! Hell of a diffr'nce. You'll have class, girl!" He looked at me, sighed, and patted my leg. "There, there, I do go on, don't I? Am I scarin' you, Nellie? Well, there's naught to fear, naught. Johnny Falke is a good fella, quick screw like you just seen, but a good fella. He'll buy you more'n you ever had, and keep you good. Clothes an' food, wine, even men if you want 'em." He winked at me. "On the sly, of course, you got to arrange that."

I frowned at him. Johnny Falke's mistress? What had I come to? Was that virtue?

He reached out and pinched a tit. "An' I can arrange f'you t'see Lily too, if you want." He chuckled as I jumped. "She's crazy for you, Nell."

I hung my head. I was being immersed in sin again- and not of my doing. Was I not had this very morning, and against my will? Why did iniquity seek me out?

As though he had read my mind, Mr. Percy said: "It's your beauty, girl, gets 'em. You're a tancy piece, and that's a fact. Fuck you m'self if I-" He sighed. "Wash your cunny an' comb your hair; I'll get Brownie t'drive you."

I took a breath and looked at him. "You sold me, Mr. Percy, didn't you?"

He paused in the act of rising. Sitting back again, he stared, then smiled. "You're a smart one, Nellie. Well, I don't deny it. Maybe I sold you, yes. It ain't every day I gets a fancy cunt in here-an' I know Johnny Falke is always on the look for a cute one."

I bit my lips. "I could go to the police?" He smiled. "Now, Nell, wot you gettin' all riled for? A little business deal?"

"But you sold me!" I shouted.

"Quiet, girl." He patted my thigh with a heavy hand. "No cause to get uppity about that. You're getting the best o'the deal, you know. Fine house, clothes, not much fuckin', parties-no muckin' about in carriages with hot-handed gents or lyin' in bed with gals lickin' you. Look on the bright side, Nellie."

I began to cry. He patted me and I pushed his hands away.

"Don't take on, Nell. He'll get tired o'you in-"

"I won't go!"

"Oh, you'll go, girl."

I looked at him through my tears. His fat face had a certain look to it, even in the gloom of the bedroom.

"Now, Nell, wot's the use of us quarrelin'? Ain't we friends?" He patted me paternally. "You wit no money, and me takin' you in just on Lily's say-so. Ain't you got any gratitude, girl?"

"But-but I had money-"

"Oh, you used that up long time past, girl." I flounced out of bed, half-naked, and grabbed up my purse. It was innocent of money. Mr. Percy had taken it. I faced him with the empty purse and he shrugged.

"You see? It costs money t'live, girl."

I could only stare at him. He had given me a room; then he and Lily had used my body-and now he was charging me for it! I had no words for such as Mr. Percy!

Wickedness takes many forms. Was I so terrible? Did I steal from others? Did I lie? Reverend Twistle was right; I was no sinner, not at heart. I pitied Mr. Percy. He was the real sinner. His guilt was greater than any I had ever seen, even Harry's. He was a great fat frog, preying off girls like me-selling bodies to those who could pay.

He smiled at me, reading the thoughts that chased each other across my face. A fat frog, vicious and ugly.

"I ain't so bad, Nellie," he said softly. "Didn't I feed ye, girl? I never turned you out. I gave ye the best o' the house. Even Lily. You liked Lily, huh?"

I sat on a chair, downcast, sorry for myself. Oh, why did I leave you, Harry?

"Now wash it," Mr. Percy said. "Johnny Falke, 'e likes a nice clean cunny."

"I won't go," I said.

His laugh was nasty, and I looked up at him. He rose, fat and elegant in his velvet coat with the gold watch chain. He pointed a fat finger and squinted his frog eyes. "Do wot I say, girl. We'll cut your tits off 'less you do."

He went to the door. "I'll 'ave Brownie up 'ere in a hour." He went out and slammed it.

I cried. Helpless rage. What could I do against Mr. Percy and his paid ruffians? Me, a mere girl-and I daren't go to the police. I knew his threat was not empty. I took my tits in my hands and looked at them. Then I shuddered; he would cut them off, if I disobeyed him. I hurried to wash. Brownie was prompt. He knocked, then he came in and closed the door, eyeing me carefully. I was dressed, with my boxes and valise before the door all proper. He smiled.

"Yer a good gal, Nellie. Smart too."

I sighed and shrugged helplessly. Fate was nudging me about again.

Brownie opened the door, looked out and nodded to someone-Mr. Percy, I supposed. Then he came across the room to me. "You horn me, gal, seein' you like that."

"Oh, Brownie, not now!"

"Didn't I tell ye, I ain't a pig?"

I tried to jolly him out of the notion. "Later, Brownie, please-?"

He pressed me up against the wall, and I could feel his hands up my skirt, under petticoats, against my naked legs. I gasped, feeling him lift me, part my thighs.

"Chris', I confess, I got the hots, Nell!"

"Oh, Brownie, don't muss me!"

"Shush, girl, stop fussin'-" I felt the long truncheon poking at me. He was a huge man, holding me off the floor with one hand, feeling for the opening with the other, shoving the meat in-I felt the strength of it and gasped.

He smiled and thrust.

"Oh, God, Brownie!"

The staff was in-a mile! As big around as a newel post, driving like a fury! I felt as though I was sitting on a great spike and I put my legs up around his body and wound my arms about him. Damn, I had just washed it.

The wall was hard; he pushed me against it, heaving and pumping the cock, grinning like a satyr. "We's old friends, Nell-don't take on so."

I was had, and nothing I could do. I relaxed and let him gorge himself-except that it roused me. Lord Falke had done it so fast and so hot that he had only got me interested, and then out of me. Now the same sensations were coursing my nerve-endings. I began to wriggle with Brownie.

"Oh, yer a good gal, Nell. The best fuck a man ever 'ad. Tight as a 'and grabbin' it."

I giggled.

"You got yer tits all bundled up-"

"Well, I was going out."

"It's all right, girl. I ain't got time t'suck 'em anyways. Jus' a quick screw an' we'll go, eh, Nell?"

He rammed me and I giggled again. Not so quick, Brownie-do me slower. Let me savor it, long strokes, pulsing along my tender nest!

But he had the hots, as he had said. He began to hump and jolt me, ramming the tool in to hit bottom and out, squishing, and in again, all the way! Pound, batter and thump! I giggled hysterically-Oh, Brownie, no one fucks like you!

Then spurt! Oh no-Brownie! You're not finished already? He pumped it crazily, panting and jerking, bouncing me on the thing and I could feel it squirt. Oh Brownie, be a pig for once!

Shit. It came out of me, all dripping and still hard. I grabbed at it, but he turned me, letting me down to the floor. He wiped it, sighing.

"Lor', you make a man boot, you do."

"Damme, Brownie, now you've left me itching... "

"We got to git, girl."

I nestled close to him, rubbing myself on him. "Please, Brownie-do me again-"

"Now, Nell, dammit, we got to get along." He put the cock away and I pouted. He took my boxes and valise and pushed me out the door. I had no time to wash again.

God! What an itch!

I followed him down the stairs, dying to finger it. Mr. Percy was cleaning his nails, behind the desk, like a great velvet frog. He smiled at me distantly, and nodded his head. I looked around for Lily but she was not to be seen.

"Come on, girl-" Brownie pulled me out the door and around to the carriage.

When the carriage halted, Brownie opened the door. "Come, Miss Nell."

I looked at him through the haze, heavy-lidded. I giggled. My long finger was drawing up and down between the folds of sweet curling flesh, frigging the throbbing, fiery clit-soothing it, mollifying it- "Come on, Nellie. JesChrist, you still got the hots, girl?"

"Go 'way-" He came in pulling my hand out from under the skirt. I screamed and clawed at him, hissing and biting; the itch consumed me.

"Gawd damn you, Nell!" He fought me off, capturing arms, smothering kicking feet, holding me down tightly, frowning into my angry eyes.

"You got to go in; we's expected, girl."

His face was close to me, the breath moved my hair. I looked into his muddy eyes. "Fuck me, Brownie."

"Damn!" He drew in his breath and yanked me out of the carriage. I pushed my crotch at him, rubbing it-I could not help it. He slapped me away. "Stand up, dammit!"

He fumbled the boxes and valise out of the carriage as I rubbed my quim over his backside; he could not stop me. We were in a bricked courtyard, plants, trees and vines on a brick wall, a curved stone lintel over an oaken door.

"Mind yer manners," he hissed at me. "Yer in a house o'yer betters."

"Johnny Falke's house?"

"Lord Falke, dammit. Don't you fergit it."

I shrugged, gritting my teeth against the itch. "He's a man-he got a cock-I had it a'ready."

Brownie looked at me in a strange way. "Christ, Nell-" He picked up my luggage and moved off, motioning to me with his head. I followed, rubbing my thighs together as I walked. It felt a little better that way. Oh yes, I had the hots.

We went through the courtyard almost at a trot. Brownie kept looking over his shoulder at me, beckoning me to hurry. He knocked briefly at a door with an iron grating and a lantern over the tiny window. We went into a warm room smelling of vegetables and pastry. A cook came in, looked at me, motioned to Brownie, and we went past into a hall.

"Servant's quarters," Brownie said in a hushed tone.

"I'm his mistress-"

"Shut up," he growled. He gave me such a look!

But I was-Mr. Percy had said so! Johnny Falke's mistress-why was I being put into the servant's quarters? I bit my lip, thinking of Johnny Falkes' cock. Thinking of straddling it.

"In here," Brownie said, shoving me into a room. Not a bad room at all, with a highboy, a bed, frills and two windows-one facing a grassy plot. I smiled at Brownie and made for the bed at once.

"Jesiz, girl, you want to get me kilt?"

I pulled up my skirts, exposing my thighs, spread them. Brownie slammed the door and stood in front of it.

"Get them petticoats down!"

"Come 'ere, Brownie-"

"Lissen, girl. You're in Lord Falke's 'ouse now. Get some sense into your empty 'ead. Stop that this damn instant! 'E'll 'ave you lashed!"

I turned over on my belly. Damn him.

He came to the bed and patted my rump, but kept me from flopping over. "Yer a good gal, Nellie, when you're not eat up with the hots. Get a bath and sit 'ere till they comes for you. Be a lady, dammit."

I lay very still. The itch was less frightful now. Brownie bent and kissed my nape.

"G'bye, girl, I'll be back."

I looked at him, sighing. When he closed the door and was gone, I burst into tears. I was alone again.

I had a good cry; how long I do not know, but a good cry. There were strange noises in the house, strange to me. Distant, muffled voices, music, and bells. The view from the window was peaceful, however. There was a grassy sward, trees and a brick wall and a shed beyond the wall near a greenhouse. A man came into view with a clumsy wheelbarrow and a shovel struck in earth which he wheeled with difficulty.

I sat on the edge, sniffling, teary, dangling my feet. Did anyone know I was here? Where was Lord Falke? Would I never see him again-or was this all a mysterious conspiracy of some sort? I pinched myself; I was real, and the bed was real.

I lay back, opening my legs to air the still distressed quiff -and the door opened.

The man who came in was not Johnny Falke. He looked a bit like him, tall and black-haired, with a rather too-handsome face. He was well dressed and I knew at once that he must be a noble like Lord Falke. I jumped off the bed, biting my lip in consternation that he should see my legs.

He smiled and shut the door firmly. "Hello, Nell."

"How do you do, sir?"

"I'm Hickey," he said, "Falke's man."

"Sir?' "I'm his valet," he said, coming close. "So you're Nell- I've heard so much about you."

I looked at him under my lashes; he was handsome. Oh my goodness, yes. I backed till I touched the bed with the backs of my knees. He stepped closer; his eyes were dark-lashed, heavy and so pointed-I was sure he could read my thoughts, but I hoped he could not! My quim was palpitating, oh, itch, damn you!

"I want to welcome you to Falke Hall," he said, taking my hand gently and pressing it between his. Warm. He v as very close, so warm, and his sultry eyes looked at me, bathed me, caressed me.

"T-th-thank you-sir-" I managed.

He kissed my fingers. "Not only for His Lordship but for me, too."

"'Tis good-er-of you, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir', Nellie." He nibbled on my fingers.

I closed my eyes, swaying. Held up only by his hold on my hand. The room swam; mists filled it, ruddy and fogging my brain, the electric sparks sizzled inside me.

"Call me Hickey, just plain Hickey-are you all right?"

I nodded faintly. The magic, tantalizing tremors were spreading from the well of desire; I could not help leaning toward him, undulating.

"My goodness-hello-" His breath was on my cheek.

I melted into his arms, pushing my mons veneris as far as it would go-far enough. I heard his quick gasp of surprise, then his arms were about me. I moved against him, soothe my itch, sir! I revolved my hips, and his tongue slipped into my mouth: I grabbed at his cock!

It was hard as a sword. I heard his hissing breath: "Jesus, Nell!"

"Fuck me," I begged-and he pushed me onto the bed.

My legs were up, spread, I grabbed my skirts and yanked them-and he fell atop me. Glory! Oh make haste, sir! The passion screamed at me, the mists smeared and suddenly the thing was accomplished. I yelled out as he pierced me and thrust up, bucking and jerking wildly. He had a long, thick prong! Shove, sir!

"God's balls!" he said, ramming me. "You're a crazy one!"

I held him, legs about his body, bucking up with all my might, seeking the idyll; the bed groaned loudly, the headboard whammed against the wall as he thrust frantically into me. I giggled and pulled at his butt. "Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" He was a fury, assaulting me indecently. Salving my distress, combating my itch-and how I helped him! 'Twas a mad quest, herculean and tumultuous.

The sword drove me wild, piercing me, exciting me, transporting me. It was formidable, strong, eager-and built up a rhythm that saturated me, surging and grappling. Oh, Hickey, you know what a girl wants!

When I came, the roof fell in-or so it seemed. I had struggled for man-pronging release for hours, and when it came I went berserk. Images crowded upon me, colorful and screaming, cutting and slashing, slithering and feverish. And through it all, Hickey battered me with that swollen truncheon: Oh, you gorgeous cocksman!

I know not what I said or what idiocies I accomplished, but the itch was pummeled and drenched, sated and put to rout. Precious prick, spouting and gorging. Satin flesh and burning sensations: Rout the demon!

I petted his dear face as I lay under him, revelling in the bounty of his spear. I kissed his lips and licked them softly, murmuring my love, for he had come to my rescue and should I not be grateful?

He was spent. His body twitched and the dear little sausage steadily shrank; I could feel it wither, though I squeezed it hard. I caressed him, kissing him and smoothing him, opening my blouse to bare my tits. Pressing his lips to my pouting nipples-thank you, Hickey. Bless you.

At last! Oh good Lord, how I have suffered.

And now, time to reflect-what have I done in the name of desire? My face became a flame, so blushing was I. What had I said to Brownie-to this dear man!

I squirmed out from under him, mopping my sated center and covering myself-demure, so demure. He rolled on his side and looked at me from those lovely black-rimmed eyes. Handsome. His wrinkled appendage dropped, and I averted my eyes modestly.

"Come here, Nellie."

I shook my head, reddening. Still further, could I blush more?

"Come here, Nell."

I took a deep breath and looked at him. Oh, handsome. Like a cavalry officer. Lean face, aquiline nose and lovely lips-sculptured.

"Did I please you, Nellie?"

I nodded, afraid to look again.

"Come here, damn you-" I moved to the bed and sat on the very edge. His arms snaked about me in an instant, pulling me down, lips kissing me, hands caressing tits-you must not!

I tried to pull away, begging him to desist.

"What are you, you little devil? First you beg for a screwing, now you want to go into church."

"Oh sir, I beg you-"

"You begged, I remember."

I hid my face in my hands. "Please, sir, do not shame me."

He sat up, letting me go. He was breathing hard, I could feel it. "You're a strange one, Nell."

"I-I-am sorry-" He rose and fastened his clothes, smoothing his shirt and cravat. "M'lord told me you're a minx. I think you're more than that."

"I am only a poor girl, sir."

"But a beauty, Nell. Indeed, a true beauty." He laughed and chucked me under the chin as one does a babe. "And you can fuck a man to death, near to death!"

I hung my head again. Remorse-what have I done in the name of gratification? Dear, sweet Reverend, help me, for I have gone beyond control.

"Come," Hickey said, taking me about the waist. "His Lordship awaits us."

Oh, sir!" I patted my hair and whirled to the mirror, and he laughed again. "My orders are to bring you as I find you. Come."

He took my arm and propelled me out of the room, slamming the door behind us, down the hall and a turn away from the pungent smells of the kitchen.

He halted me in a long hall, putting my back to the wall. His jet eyes fastened on mine and he came close. "It might be best, Nellie, if we said nothing about our recent-love bout, eh?"

"Oh yes, of course, sir."

"Stop calling me 'sir'."

"Yes sir-er-"

"Hickey."

I nodded. "Hickey." He patted my rump and we went on.

Lord Falke sat in a chair overlooking a dark lawn; the gas lamps were turned low. He sipped wine and smiled at me. "Hello Nellie, show me your tits, girl."

I was startled.

Hickey leaned toward me and I caught his whisper. "Drunk."

I bit my lip. Good heavens, not that!

"Come closer, lass," Falke said, waving. "Undo the blouse-come, come, come-"

"But, sir-"

"She's a comely lass, ain't she, Hickey?"

"Lovely, M'lord."

"Hot as a fresh horse turd," said Falke. He smiled at my face and I am sure it was pale. "Oh, you're a hot one, Nellie-as I can testify."

I blushed. "Please, sir-"

"She's tired," Hickey said. "Long trip and all. Perhaps your Lordship'll let her rest?"

"Balls," said Falke, sipping the wine. "Short trip. Come on lass, show us your tits."

I looked at Hickey, almost wringing my hands. Lord Falke was a terrible man, swearing and uncaring of my feelings. But Hickey was only a servant, like me. He could suggest, to a point.

"Come, come, come-" He beckoned to me to come closer.

Sighing, I began to untie my bodice. Johnny Falke giggled and sipped the wine, watching me as a cat watches a mouse hole.

"Nice, big tits, she 'as," Falke said. "Round an' tasty-" He licked his lips and rolled his eyes.

Hickey winked at me, shaking his head.

I opened the bodice and Falke wiggled his fingers at me, telling me to come still closer. His red eyes were leering. He flicked the cloth aside and simpered at my bare flesh. Then he pulled me, one arm about my waist, and sat me on his lap. In another instant he had buried his face in my bosom and I felt his eager mouth on one nubile titty. Oh, he sucked so hard!

It made me writhe.

Hickey was staring at us, twining his fingers, and breathing hard. I could only watch his handsome face, over Lord Falke's head-I knew his organ must be hard again. Poor man, I felt sorry for him.

Falke was slobbering over my titties; he had both of them bare and wet with his mouth. Nipples proud. I could not help moving my shoulders, for the sensation was inciting. Tit-sucking always aroused me. I tried to suppress my feelings lest I drive him into passion but bite my lips as hard as I could, I could not prevent a wriggle or a twitch or a gasp of breath as he licked and sucked me ever lewdly.

And as I sat upon his lap, I felt his prong stabbing up, eager to join the fun. Evil man!

"Come, the wine," Falke said.

I could not understand his meaning, but Hickey knew. He came close, picked up the wine bottle, and with a tiny smile for me, he flicked drops of red wine upon my satiny breasts and with a cry, Falke licked them up avidly.

Such a carnal game! Oh, wicked creature!

But it made me giggle, despite myself. Hickey continued to splash wine upon my breasts and Johnny Falke licked it up, chasing the ruby droplets down to my navel, sucking them, licking them and laughing the whole time like a small boy after cherries.

Falke wore only a shirt and pantaloons, and soon the shirt was spattered with red. My bodice was soon torn off and I was naked to the waist-streaked with red wine; and Falke's mouth was everywhere, his tongue screwing into my navel-a game he particularly enjoyed.

When he dug into my navel with his tongue I had to arch my back, for the sensation was intense. I giggled loud, begging him to desist-which of course made him lick harder. And then Hickey bent and licked my upthrust titties, unbeknownst to Falke.

It made me giggle harder. My itch had returned, and the room was hazy with the familiar fog of desire. I rubbed my butt over the tusk that poked me, wishing I could grasp it and guide it.

"Wine, more wine!" yelled Falke, and Hickey splashed me-sucking a nipple when Falke pursued the wine into my navel.

I grabbed at Rickey's pantaloons, clutching a wad of cloth, finding the cock inside and yanking on it in my squirming delight. He nearly cried out and hastened to hide the action from Falke.

But Lord Falke was drunk, with wine and with tits. His eyes were bleary, and he was smeared with wine; it was even glistening in his hair, and dropped upon his boots. The room smelled like a wine press at harvest time. It fumed my head, even as the heady mists closed about me and made me stuff a tit into his mouth and choke him with it-Hickey had to pull me off M'lord. He sputtered, but he laughed.

"She's a wild minx, eh, Hickey!"

"A beautiful girl, sir."

"More wine, quick-more wine-" He swirled my skirts high and ran a wanton hand up my leg. Oh, how I writhed! The chair teetered; Falke chased wine between my tits, biting at the rubbery nipples, licking at the fullness of white, flawless boobies. His grasping fingers reached my quim. I screamed out, and the chair rocked as I kicked with both feet at the maddening touch.

With a crash, we fell over backwards.

I screamed, unhurt, but shaken. Falke's finger thrust deep inside me at the crash, and I ripped the pants from Hickey in my fall.

Oh, tumble and scurry! Lord Falke was under me, sucking contentedly at one delectable titty, the squishing sounds he made were idyllic music. The finger was strong inside me, and I fucked myself over it wildly lying atop him. Itch, glorious itch!

"Jesus," I heard Hickey hiss. I looked hazily at him. He was half naked, his torn pantaloons about his knees and his huge, lovely cock sticking out like a pole without a flag. I giggled at it, and reached for it.

He thrust it at me with a sucking-in of breath. I took it happily between coral lips and he fucked it to me ardently.

No longer could I think. Feel. Scissoring Falke's virile finger, skewering myself to soothe the harassing itch, oh, frothy slithering! Swallowing the velvety prong that stirred my soul, voluptuous, teasing my lips. 'Twas heaven for long, rapturous moments-then Lord Falke growled, struggling to rise from being smothered in tits.

I yelped as Hickey pulled the prick from me, and knelt to help his master. Even the diddling finger slimed from my throbbing quim. God! Do not tease me so!

"Blimey!" Falke said thickly. "Hot in here, buried in tits, eh?"

"Is your Lordship ready for bed?"

"Bed!" Falke roared. He pulled himself from Hickey's grasp, lunging at me. "I'll bed this maid-Jesus, come 'ere, girl!"

I opened my legs wide as he half fell on me. Stick it in, sir-no, you're not getting it in. He was too drunk to coordinate, fumbling and fishing-getting his dong out but not putting it where it ought to go.

"Dammit, Hickey," he growled. "Fuckin' girl's too slippery-" I was doing my best to grab the precious thing and guide it to my aching quiff. "Let me help, sir-" He brushed my hands aside, attempting to plug me, but never close. He continued to fall on my chest, losing his balance, knees crumpling, poking with the naked cock. Swearing, "Goddammit, shit, she's avoidin' me, dammit-!"

Hickey was smiling, trying not to burst out laughing. I could see that much, though I wanted the prong as I wanted life itself. Hickey's long weapon was bobbing and swaying, and I could see it much more easily than Falke's, which was hidden in my frilly petticoats. Two cocks and neither in me! Alas!

But Hickey was equal to the task. Catching up several pillows from a nearby couch, he flung them toward Lord Falke, and pushed the man down on them. "There you go, sir-"

"Can' fuck 'er, Hickey-help, dammit!" I had to giggle, itch or no, for Lord Falke was lying beside me, doing his damndest to fuck the pillows. Hickey's face was a sight, suppressing laughter. He motioned to me then, and I reached quickly for my Lord Falke's twitching member. This time I captured the swollen thing in my hand and squeezed it tightly. Falke rammed it into my grasp and yelled out in delight.

"I got it in 'er, Hickey! Got it in 'er!" Hickey patted his master's rump. "Go to it, sir!" Falke fucked the prick into my hand as hard as he could go as I blinked up at Hickey. Quickly he put his knees between mine-and in another second his rod was knocking for entry. I squealed in pure pleasure; it thrust its head inside and followed it with a lunge that made me buck and bounce.

"Oh, sir, fuck me!" I yelled-and Lord Falke giggled. So sweet! Searing luxury, pulsating and goading! Oh, beauteous frolic, his dragon in my forbidden fruit, hot breath ravishing. Mesmeric evening, all convulsions and sensuous sighs between orgasms of twisting, flaming riot.

And Lord Falke drenched my hand, and drenched the pillow, sighing with delicious pain-and falling asleep as I caressed the poor weeping thing.

Oh, fuck me, Hickey-all night long! Please!

CHAPTER TEN

I had time, in my first week in Lord Falke's house, to consider that I, in my eighteenth year, had accomplished little. A girl from the slums was the mistress of a great lord. But I knew he would tire of me, and back to the slums I would go. Or back to Mr. Percy's hotel, to be a plaything of Lily.

I was sophisticated, and yet taken advantage of. I knew of the world, yet learned new lessons constantly. Mostly what I knew was that men desired me. They looked at my body and became savages. Men were near to savagery anyway. They lusted and they leered.

Of course there were times when I knew little of my own doings, but that was different. I was forced to do those terrible things.

I am at heart, virtuous. Do I insist upon it? It is true. I love virtue and I follow the ways of my Redeemer. Each week I repair to Reverend Twistle's rooms and confess what sin I have been forced to accomplish.

It is a precious time, that absolution. Oh, dear man. Sweet man who loves me for Jesus' sake. Though my sins increase-I know they do-I am forced into misdeeds by others. Forced.

My terrible itch is a testing, Reverend Twistle says. I am tested in fire. Oh, such fire! Hell's fire, methinks. It is a glorious testing, the good, sweet Reverend assures me. For my soul is dear to God, and so will be of more precious-ness if I am sore tested.

"They cannot touch your goodness," Reverend Twistle says. "They may force you to submit, but it is only a thing of the flesh, and not of soul."

He is so continually reassuring. I love him for his patience and his love, and the beautiful cleansing I receive from the absolving acts on his couch, fighting fire with fire.

Though he fights with less fire than formerly. And he seems to tire more easily-when my fire is not extinguished.

But I do not complain.

I am grateful for what I receive.

My virtue was sore tried during my second week at Lord Falke's house for he had a party. Lord Falke's set and his friends were a wild group; Reverend Twistle would not approve, I know. Oh, no.

But he bought for me a gorgeous new gown and silk stockings, chemise and vest with shoulder straps that actually unhooked: "The better to kiss your titties," he said, to blush my cheeks.

I had been moved out of the servants' quarters to the main house, for Lord Falke was of a suspicious turn, I found. He did not trust the cooks and waiters and footmen to hound me and leer after me-as they did, of course. My new rooms were lovely and high-ceilinged, draped and silked with a four-poster in which he fucked me the very first night I moved in. A quick fuck-on-the-run as was his wont. Enough to rise my gorge and leave me panting.

Lord Falke did not thrill me overmore.

But the party was in preparation for a week, and to my excitement was added the news that His Highness, the Prince, would attend. I was in a flutter. The Prince himself! Royalty! Oh, my goodness!

And me, a commoner from the slums.

I wondered if he would look at me. He would know instantly that I was common, and pass me by, I knew it. Hickey taught me what I should say and do, and spent hours with me, showing me how to walk and how to curtsy and what to say: "Keep your mouth shut, darling," he said; "Never volunteer to speak;" and "Wait a long while before speaking or answering."

He taught me poise. I had never known the meaning of the word before. "You have a natural poise, my dear," he assured me, "the way you walk and swing your ass-er- hips."

I giggled at him. He was cute. And so handsome.

He stole kisses from me constantly when we were alone. Lord Falke had a routine-his rounds, the farms, trades in the towns, his dogs and horses, his rents and the construction here and there, houses and roads-oh, he was a busy man. He was away much of each day, then back for tiffin, and meetings with foremen.

And so I spent much time with Hickey. Though secretly, for Hickey was acutely conscious of Lord Falke's jealousy. "He'd drum me out of his service if he thought I had a bit o'you, darling."

He made me blush too: Handsome devil!

Spending time with Hickey was not easy; the house was full of servants-butler, maids and workmen. I had my own maid, a girl named Blossom. She was young, pert, and tawny, with skin like a peach and golden hair that hung to her round shoulders. She was the daughter of a poor brick mason in the village. She had little schooling, and what manners she had acquired had been got at the house. But she was pretty and had tits, they stuck out of her cotton blouse with no stays, and bobbed with every step.

Hickey chose her for me. "She's a good lass," he said, "and can keep her lips tight shut."

It occurred to me later to wonder how he knew she could keep a secret. I asked Blossom.

She shrugged her shapely shoulders and smiled shyly. "Ickey? 'E 'ad me, mum. Right on me own doorstep."

I bit my lip. I had had to ask. And I might have known. Hickey was so handsome; he had probably had half the girls of the village. However, Blossom was efficient enough for my needs. She could curl hair and use an iron, and she kept my rooms tidy. She even helped me in the bath, though I protested at first that I could soap myself. But she had been told to aid me in every way, and aid me she would. Even to the extent of reaming out my pussy with soap; a long finger inserted did the job. And made me tingle, I confess. Blossom was a jewel.

But on to the party: I had little idea of a great affair such as Lord Falke arranged. The bakery shops of the village were all working overtime to provide the sweets and dainties; the slaughter of lambs for mutton surprised me, and the wine cellars were carted to the main hall-bottles by the hundreds.

Lanterns were strung in the gardens, and seats built, trellisses and flowers arranged in places where none had grown before. Footmen were hired, in beautiful uniforms trimmed in lace and gilt; money was spent like wine flowing down thirsty throats. It appalled me! Me, a poor girl from the-. Well, I could hardly wait!

A real Prince!

Lord Falke was even busier than before. He had managers and foremen, as I have said, but he was the last voice in every matter, for it was his money being spent.

When I mentioned the fantastic preparations-or so they seemed to me-Hickey merely smiled. "He has too much money, darling. Much too much. At least this way he spreads it about."

Hickey came to my rooms by a devious route. The rooms had been those of a secretary to a previous master of the great hall, and so had a secret door. Hickey had merely to enter his master's suite and thus into mine with no prying eyes to give us away. And thus into me.

He was a horny one, Hickey! I learned the meaning of the word from him. His favorite game was to catch me unawares and thrust the horn up my puss ere I could prevent it-as though I wanted to. I must pay him somehow for the hours he spent on my manners. Call it sinful if you will, but it was loving. Reverend Twistle has taught me that love forgives all.

I did not love Hickey, not as I did the good Reverend, but I became terrible fond of him. He was not Harry, but he was good to me, and protective.

Lord Falke had a coarse tongue and coarser manners, shouting at me, even ripping the blouse from my shoulders when he was in wine-which was often at night. He would drink and send for me. One of the simpering, grinning footmen would come with his message: "M'lord wishes his cunt-" Oh, how I protested, but Johnny Falke would laugh and gargle and grab me. I was his property, nothing else. When he rammed his prick up me it was for quick gratification and did little for my nerves. Oh, how I hated him!

He would strip me naked and parade me about under the lanterns, turning me about and front, making me skip and jump so my titties would bob and sway, and then he would jump at me and suck them. Oh, the vulture!

Then, when he had done of me, he would send me back to my rooms to cry and to commiserate. I was miserable.

So the party promised something different, something new and very exciting-the nearness of a Prince, and many other glittering nobles.

"You'll find them men underneath, if you look," Hickey said, but could that be true? A Prince, a mere man? Did a Prince have a cock? I could not believe it. Hickey assured me he did.

"Willy, that's the Prince, has been here many times. You should see him drunk, screwing the maids!"

I gasped to hear it. Oh, no-not our future king!

So, in spite of my sophistication, I was still a girl, and so trusting. Too trusting. I had come, such was our closeness, I thought, to believe that Hickey was true to me. But one night as I strolled on the sward outside my window, I saw him with Blossom who had just left me. We had been excitedly discussing the party which was to take place the very next day, and she had stayed late. I was too keyed up to sleep, and so went for a late walk-and I saw them near the greenhouse.

Hickey had her over a potter's frame, skirts high so that her thighs shone golden in the distant lamplight. And Hickey, my true one, was delving into her, rhythmically, and whispering into her ear as they undulated.

Men are creatures of lust.

I wept on my bed, and went to sleep, a finger in my fiery quim, thinking of their tryst.

No one had time for me the day of the party; even Blossom was taken to work in the scullery, for last minute chores were too numerous for the workmen to do them. I put on my new gown, tucked it and primped in it and Hickey came in silently just as I had it over my head to doff it-and up me he went.

I yelped, feeling the dong well-planted. "Hickey!"

He shoved me onto a sofa, knees on the seat, and worked the thing swiftly, kissing my nape. "Everything's going badly," he said. "Cook is furious, the butler's not speaking to the gardeners, and M'lord is half drunk already. It'll be a fine affair."

"But the Prince is coming?"

"Oh yes, never fear, ducks. He'll be here. And half the rascals of London with him."

I was relieved. I wanted so to meet the great man. What a tale I could tell in my old street! They would never believe it, Nell Widdicomb in the presence of royalty! I didn't yet believe it myself.

Hickey prodded me, and I leaned on the back of the sofa, suffering it, waiting for him to finish, for I was but little interested in that game. The excitement of the coming party drove all thoughts from my mind. The roster of great and noble names was enough to make my poor head swim. How could they let poor little me in the hall?

"Yer cold as a ham," Mickey complained, pushing it hard.

I sighed and wriggled a little, but he still complained.

"Per'aps you should find Blossom," I suggested.

He pulled the long, wet thing out of me and sat-on the sofa, legs splayed before him, the dong sticking up pinkly. I turned about, smoothing my dress; his face was annoyed.

"You know 'bout Blossom an' me?"

I nodded.

"I only thought to give 'er a thrill," he said. "She led a sheltered life-not like you, Nellie."

I looked at him, wondering what he thought of me. How could I answer that?

"You're a woman o'the world, Nell, anyone can see that. Come, sit b'tween my legs here."

I glanced at the hard cock, knowing what he wanted. But the urge was not in me. 'Twas only morning, and as I have said, I am a virtuous woman.

But when he had gone, the twinge bid me 'hello,' and I suppressed it. Lecherous men, they arouse you and begone. But I put my mind to other things.

Blossom was let off the scullery in the afternoon when I appealed to Lord Falke. I had her sew a hem and help with my bath and bring me supper, for 'twould be a job of work getting morsels at the regular hour.

However, Blossom, though a willing worker, had been at the wine, as all the cook's helpers had been, and she was nipping steadily from a secret bottle. I did not know it until I realized that she was getting progressively tipsy as the late afternoon progressed. "Come, straighten up, Blossom, dear."

"Yes, mum."

Wine made her amorous, so that, when she began to help me dress, my titties underwent a more rigorous handling than necessary. When I complained, she offered to suck the tender nipples. Outrageous! Especially when she laughed at me for my qualms.

"It's a party," she said, waggling her hips wantonly. "Lor', mum' them guests'll be arrivin' any secon-" I bit my lip in annoyance. I had wanted to be correct and demure for His Highness. The Prince would not allow such levity, I was sure.

But we accomplished the fact; the gown and all my fur bits were in place-what a lovely gown! By far the most elegant I had ever known. The silken bodice came sweeping down in the latest fashion, just above the nipples, and I surveyed myself, the white expanse of my shoulders and the tops of my breasts. Blossom sucked in her breath, looking on.

"Oh, mum, you'll gi' 'em all hards!"

"Blossom!"

She shrugged at me. "Itza fac' mum."

It was the latest thing, I couldn't help that. And I did look beautiful; did the mirror lie? It could not. But when I leaned just the slightest bit forward, my tits hung out-Oh, my goodness! But fashion must be served.

Blossom dressed too, in a new gown designed for all the serving girls; and I was surprised to see it. She had been pressed into service as a serving lass, and the dress had stiff petticoats so that when she leaned over one could almost see her round bottom. I was shocked, for she wore no bloomers: "Too 'ot, ma'am."

And the neckline was full and low, scandalous! When she walked, her red nipples bobbed into view constantly. And she had rouged them, I was sure. The skirt was black and the waist pink. She made a very pretty picture, but an indecent one-goodness, what would the Prince think!?

A footman came for me about dusk: "'Is Lordship wants 'is titty, Miss-" I would have slapped the grinning fellow, but he was too quick for me.

Lord Falke was in the drawing room, sipping wine, and when he saw me he whistled like any larky lowlife.

"Jezis! Lookit our Nell!"

I curtsied to him, proper as a queen, and smiled automatically: the cad! I could see him staring at my bosom, and my butt. And I knew what he was thinking. Horrid man.

We were alone for a moment in the gilded room. The grandfather clock of polished teak whirred softly, noises came faint from the courtyard, horses whinnied, and footmen shouted in the halls. I smelled incense and felt his lewd eyes on me.

"Oh, I could fuck ye, Nellie-"

"Sir!"

He shrugged and laughed, head on one side. "Don' be cocky wi' me, sweet. Come 'ere."

I had to go too him, standing above him as he sprawled on a divan, wine in his hand. He rubbed my leg under the silken gown. "Don' tremble so, Nellie."

"The guests are arriving, M'lord."

"Let 'em." He sipped and chuckled. "Oh, yer a beauty, girl, a beauty! Yes indeed, a handful of beauty!"

And with that he slipped his hand up and tickled my quim. I jerked, but dared not move away. Wicked man!

"That's right, thoroughbred ye are, Nellie." He put the finger up into me as I drew in my breath. "Did ye know I'm an Oxford man, girl? Degree an' all?"

"No sir."

"It's true, Nell. Don' give a shit for 'em, all degrees. Can buy degrees by the bushel. Know wot counts, sweet?"

I shook my head, feeling the awful finger slipping in and out, around-playing hob with my nerve-ends.

"Wot counts is screwin', Nell."

He was an impossible man. Coarse and uncouth. I wondered about the college, but I dared not say. A door opened and the butler came in: he coughed.

Lord Falke didn't remove his finger, the servant was on the opposite side and couldn't see-Oh, I could have screamed with hate of him! Falke merely grinned like a gargoyle as the butler announced the first of the guests. I was able to move away from the divan then, as Falke had to rise. I saw him lick the finger that had been in me. He leered at me, doing it.

Tucked away in a corner a threesome played, and the guests chattered, polite and sparkle-eyed. I said as little as possible, as Hickey had advised. With each carriage and phaeton or brougham, I felt my flesh creep, anticipating the Prince. I could hear the wheels in the courtyard and the snorting of horses as the grooms and helpers led them away to the stables. But he did not arrive.

How many glittering people I met, I have no idea. I retained no names. There were nobles and ladies, crisp and imperious, clad in the height of fashion, embroidered skirts and flounces, nipples showing, waggling bustles, and enameled medals. It quite took my breath away.

Had it not been for Hickey's comforting presence, I might have made some awful blunder the very first hour. He came and stood by my elbow, whispering to me to be more relaxed, and telling me short little tales of the guests: "That's Lord Chester, the one they caught in a loft with two chambermaids when he was fifteen-" Or, "Over there is Lady Artaud, they say she sleeps with a dog-" He was ribald and shocking, but it did relax me. The nobles and their ladies seemed more human, and put me more at ease. I was only a girl from the slums, after all.

In an hour there were a hundred or more guests in the gardens and the three halls, dancing, eating, talking, and most of all, drinking. Goodness! how they drank!

But the Prince had not yet arrived.

"He'll be the last," Hickey said to me, taking me by the arm and leading me to the garden. "Protocol."

"What's that?"

"The law these people live by. Rank and all." He lit a cigar and surveyed the colorful garden, decked with Chinese lanterns, "An' no one will leave till His Highness does, if he stays till doomsday."

I was learning. But disappointed. I wanted so to see him, like a schoolgirl panting for a favor.

My Lord Falke had retired to one of the gaming rooms, and was busy at cards or backgammon. It was like him to leave me to my own devices. Hickey had kept tabs on him and reported his moves to me. He pointed out famous names in the throng, "General such and such, Admiral somebody, and Sir something or other... " None of the names stuck in my memory, there were too many.

The garden was gaily lighted, but the light did not travel. Along the hedges surrounding the garden were chairs and lounges, and the light was very dim there. Beyond the hedges the light was but a flicker. I noticed then that guests were strolling beyond the hedges and returning more flushed and more animated than the drink would promise. Even the serving girls were disappearing through the gateways of the hedges. When I saw Blossom, giggling and kittenish, return from a foray, blouse awry, I was sure that lovemaking was in progress. Such licentiousness!

Other guests were dancing in the plot surrounded by chairs. When we neared it, a fine gentleman approached me. He bowed very correctly.

"May I have the honor, Miss-"

"Widdicomb," supplied Hickey. "Of course you may." He winked at me. "The gentleman wishes to dance, Nell."

I smiled and went with him at once, my arm on his. In a moment we were gliding on the polished surface, his chest rubbing ever so lightly against my tits. He was suave and dark-eyed.

"I'm Oliver Beltaire," he said. "You're Nell?"

I smiled: "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"You must be Falke's c-er-girl?"

I nodded. What had he heard of me?

"You're the prettiest girl here, y'know."

"Thank you, sir." I gave him my best smile.

We danced around the plot in company with a dozen couples. Oh, so lovely and gossamer. Lights, lanterns, streamers, comely music, and a handsome man for company. I was titillating with the heady excitement of it. My first grand party!

I scarcely noticed that he danced me beyond the plot into the shadows. My eyes were closed, so enjoyable was it; gliding and moving as in a dream.

I woke from the dream to find his lips on mine, his strong arms tightening about me. Oh, sir!

"Just a kiss, Nelly," he whispered, and kissed me again.

Straightening my back, I drew in my breath. 'Twas not ladylike-"Sir!!" I said, "Please do not-"

"Oh, come, Nell, you're Falke's cu-er-you're Falke's girl, and everyone knows-" I twisted from his grasp. Horrified! Everyone knew what?

"All right, I apologize," he said with a winning smile. "I apologize."

I took a deep breath, head spinning. Goodness, where was Hickey? I glanced around for him, but we were near the hedges, plants about, tall and drooping-a jungle. Oliver came close again, chest to tits.

"Come, let's dance-" I moved with him automatically, thoughts swirling. What in the world had he meant?"

"Refreshments, sir?"

It startled me. A man in uniform stood there, with a tray. There were two wine glasses on the tray, a silver tray.

Oliver smiled at me. "Ah, my dear, here we are." He handed me a glass. I took it; looking at this man I had never seen before-a skinny fellow with squint eyes.

Oliver and I touched glasses. I had never done that either. "To us," he said, and sipped the dark liquid. "You're a luscious c-er-girl," he said. "The beauty of the ball."

"You're flattering me." I sipped the wine and he took my arm casually. We strolled and my composure began to return. I wanted this party to be just perfect.

He talked about the recent war, about politics, about horses, and when I noticed we were far from the others, he was discussing Lord Falke.

"-he can pay for anything he wants, the richest man in these shires."

I had finished the wine long since and he took the glass from me, then came into my arms so smoothly that I was kissing him before I realized it.

"Oh, sir!"

"Really, Nell-there's a time for these games-"

"What games, sir?"

He sighed. "Christ, girl, you've had me hard for God knows how long-" He pushed himself at me, and I could feel it then! Oh, he was hard!

I gasped and twisted, but he held me tight, pressing my tits almost flat, pushing the prong at me.

"Oh, let me go-let me go!"

"Jenks," he said sharply.

I nearly screamed when the skinny, squint-eyed man came from the shadows and grasped me from behind. One expert hand closed over my mouth. I had a quick glimpse of him; then I was held as in a vise. Oliver chuckled.

"Really, Nell, all that's not necessary. You're Johnny Falke's cunt-so let's not be quibbling."

I could not speak, only stare at him, pop-eyed. The hand gagged me very effectively. I struggled, feeling Oliver's two hands swiftly scooping up my skirts till I was bare to the waist. He chuckled. My face was burning. My head was awhirl with anger and anguish! Oh, good God! His fingers were prodding me, exploring me, slipping lustfully into my quivering pussy-Oh, what was that?

I groaned as the cock thrust deep into my loins. The skinny man held me up, leaning back, and Oliver assaulted me, ramming and lunging heatedly. The vulgar prick stroked and pumped-I could have swooned! Oh, the shame of it! And the Prince due!

"God! she's tight," Oliver panted, working furiously. "That goddam Falke can pick 'em, eh Jenks?"

"'E never misses, sir."

"Let her struggle a little more-"

"Yes sir."

I gasped for air, and the hand allowed me room; and when I did not scream out it cautiously allowed me more. I was gulping and panting. I could not help but struggle and writhe in his grasp, for I wished desperately to unset him and evade that plunging snake-but no chance.

Oliver fucked me hotly and deeply-the cad! Oh, how deeply it plunged. Jenks held me so that my feet never touched the grass; the three of us, with me in the middle, must have been a curious sight in the darkness. But no one saw us, for we were some distance from the ball.

I would have screamed in the first attack, but as it continued, I knew my screams would reveal me for a raped girl. Men are so clever-depraved creatures-well knowing that shame can attach to a woman more than to a man.

So I suffered the rape, forced again, alas!

And as Oliver embedded his throbbing organ, thumping me vigorously, I could feel Jenks behind me; his male organ had risen and was prodding my backside. Evil man. Evil pair!

"'Ow is it, sir?"

"Christ, the best! She's got a cunt like a handful of hot liver!"

I gasped and blushed deeper-oh, the lewdness of them! Oliver rooting in me like a pig! The force of his thrusts became a source of my twitching-s'truth, I could not prevent it. A writhing set in, Oh such a convulsion! Damn that muscular lance-thrusting, humping-and me held up to receive the riotous tribute, legs wide about his body.

What a rubbing, teasing, itching fantasy! Oh God, sir- we're at the ball! How strong it is. Jenks, behind me, has managed to free his impatient prong for I can feel the rubbery, velvet length of it slapping my buttocks as Oliver plunges in supple energy, driving into me like a tiger.

I am gasping, grabbing Jenks' arms, holding him, pulling him. My legs high, thrusting back at Oliver. I can feel the gorgeous length of it, buried in me-swooshing out and ramming in again-Oh blessed jolting!

"Hold 'er, damme," growled Oliver, panting.

"Don' buck so, Miss," Jenks said in my ear.

I could only moan, but not control my spasmodic heaving. They had fed the flames, now they wished to hide from the heat? Oh, men! Jezus, fuck me, Oliver!

The orgasm overtook me. I groaned aloud, twisting and surging at the frigging cock-deeper, harder! Oh faster, sir! Faster! Wild. Flurry and tempest!

I clawed at him, hearing something rip, uncaring. The desperate prong danced its ballet, the music soared and shrilled in my ears. Gratification.

Oliver was mumbling-I do not hear his words-but I feel his body trembling against mine, pushing, throbbing, shuddering in climax. I tried to squeeze the dear thing, rearing in exquisite agony. Jenks was hissing, breathing like a man desperate for breath. His back was to a wall, woodsy, vines and leaves, I could smell them-Oliver had pushed us into a corner. Jenks was the cushion.

Oh, sweet misery!

But Oliver's prong was slippery, and slipping. It drooped and squished and as I squeezed it, it gooped from my pussy like the fruit of a squashed banana. I moaned as it left me -and then Jenk's sly hand was about me, feeling and fingering, and in another instant his eager, hard prong rammed into me.

I giggled. It slid in, bold and goading, coated with Oliver's spend. He thrust powerfully and I gasped as it skewered me delightfully. Oh, stalwart man!

Oliver had my bosom in both hands; he pulled the bodice and both titties popped out; I shuddered as his hot mouth closed over one. Such men!

Jenks was a wild man-rumming and bucking, driving the frantic, plunging prick into me with passion. Oliver held me up for him-and I cooed, cuddling him, throbbing. Don't stop, don't stop-oh never stop!

"Christ, I'm dead," Oliver muttered.

"Keep 'er up, dammit," Jenks hissed, battering me from behind.

"I'm dead-Jesus, dead-" Jenks had me by the thighs, holding tightly, arms about me holding me against him, thumping me so that I could feel his hard balls with every thrust. But Oliver fell away, spent, panting in misery.

I felt myself falling too-on top of him-and Jenks holding on like a leech, never missing a stroke, fucking me desperately as we lay on the grass, all three in a heap. I clung to Oliver, giggling, writhing. Delicious tool.

"She's a crazy one," Oliver gasped. "Hurry up-" Jenks never slacked. I felt him heave and ram, and fountain into me. I gushed and spurted smoky stuff so that the night air was filled with the pungent smell of it. He groaned aloud, thrashing and bucking. Capable man!

We lay, trembling and twitching, three sated bodies on the grass. Jenk's cock still struggling to stay in its orifice. Blessed organ.

"Jesus, I knew Falke could pick 'em," Oliver groaned.

I giggled.

"Yes sir," Jenks grunted, moving spasmodically.

They got me up, brushed off and dressed again. My hair was awry, but my gown was intact-though slightly wrinkled. Jenks spent a time arranging my bodice just so, molding and pressing my tits and kissing the nipples. Oliver smoked a cigar languidly, stroking my butt.

Oh itch, never-satisfied-I held Jenks' precious handle, massaging it, giving it strength and stiffness. But Oliver wished to return to the ball-protocol. And he was the noble, Jenks the servant.

"Jove, I need a drink," Oliver said, hugging my waist. "You do a man, Nellie. I feel like I've humped a harem."

I was of two minds, returning to the others. I had been terribly had, and mightily aroused, but I could not refuse Oliver. Had it been my choice, I might have stayed in the darkness with Jenks, for he was not yet exhausted and was walking behind us, his hands on my rear in the gloom.

When we came into the lamplight, Jenks faded away toward the serving quarters, and Oliver and I danced again as sedately as two acquaintances, my tits against his chest.

But each tender rub was inflaming them. For now the fever was on me. Oh, how can I describe the lissom flame of it? Do not think-merely glide along in his arms. Eyes heavy with lust, tits aching for lips, take me into seclusion, Oliver!

But the dance was over, and Oliver walked away with nothing more than a bow to me, proper and elegant. Curse him! Where was Hickey?

"May I bring you a refreshment, Miss?"

I turned to see Jenks, correct and brushed, squint eyes on my tits. I nodded, and followed him. The exquisite crowd was chattering and the music was soft in the garden, but I could see only Jenks-for I knew him now. Some spoke to me as I passed, and I realized later that I had ignored them-blush. A footman said something-something about Lord Falke, but I could only see Jenks and his slits of eyes as he looked back at me.

Jenks entered a side door and I went to it quickly, hurrying down a carpeted hallway. I thought I saw his slim form enter a room, a room in a guest wing of the house. I pushed the door open and burst into the room, breast heaving-and stopped short, for a man and a maid were struggling on the rocking bed. The man was between her white thighs, attacking the tender well with fiery abandon.

"Wot the 'ell's that?" the girl said, peering over his shoulder.

I bit my lip and ran back to the door-the girl had been Blossom! Oh, dear Blossom, you wanton!

I could not find Jenks, damn him! Oh, my quim burned for sharing. I ran back to the main hall, encountering a man just emerging. He looked at me and smiled. He was tall as Hickey, with a goatee and a sash across his middle. He had an empty glass in his hand.

"Ah there, my dear-I've been looking for you!"

I blinked at him. "Indeed, sir?"

He slipped a bold hand about my slim waist and hugged me. "Indeed I have-what's your name, my sweet?"

"Nell." He'd been looking for me?

"A lovely name." He turned me about, his hand creeping up to caress my breast. "Who do you belong to?"

"Lord Falke, sir."

He looked at me with quite another face I thought. "Oh, Lord Falke! Then you're that Nell-I see, I see-" He propelled me along a hall, squeezing my tit. I let my hand fall along his pantaloon front and he laughed. So I pressed and found a bulge. I squeezed and he sucked in his breath.

He opened a door and pushed me in-I grabbed at his cock and massaged it hotly. "God's boils, girl!"

I was panting and burned up with desire. His tumid prong jumped into my hand and I climbed on him, frenzied.

"Oh put it in me, sir!"

"Shit in me hat!" He stumbled to the bed, yanking me along and tossing me on my back. I flung my legs wide, grabbing up my skirts in a froth of lace, and he was on me like a hungry man. He panted and hissed through his nose, so great was his eagerness.

My gash was livid and greasy-and his hard knob rammed at me, snubbed along my cooze lips and dived in to bury its swollen head. He pushed and I bucked upward at the same time, and the glorious prong was buried! Oh, lively time, eager limbs and rampant loins! Fuck me, stranger, ram me, pump me, fornicate! How grand!

He had a good wand, not so great as Hickey or Jenks, but a welcome tool, and he worked it in well, and revolved it to taste. I scissored him, pulling at his butt with my calves, and he grunted and jerked in frantic haste.

"God's boils, you're a minx, girl. Squeeze me cock, that's right, ohhh, yes."

I sighed and moaned; it felt heavenly. My itch was salved for the moment, soothing. Keep it coming, sir. Harder, make me feel it-yes, like that. Deliciousness.

"How long 'ave you been Falke's cunt?"

"Not long, sir."

"I thought not. You'd wear him to bone and hank, the lecher. You're a tight one, Nell."

"Thankee, sir."

"Am I in too deep for you?"

"Just right, sir-I love it just that way."

He smiled down at me, nuzzling my cheeks and kissing me as he pumped. "Oh, I like you, girl!"

I squeezed him as hard as I could and he chuckled.

"Will you do me French, Nell?"

"If you want, sir." I hoped he wouldn't get up, and he did not. He smiled and nodded, and kept up the poking.

"How about the Italian way?"

"Wot's that, sir?"

He grinned at me. "Up the ass."

I blushed and fluttered my eyes. But I would have agreed to anything while he was in me. I nodded and he hugged me and pumped me harder. Dear, sweet man. I squeezed him harder and harder, and he gasped.

In another moment he had flooded, me, spurting and writhing madly, breath wheezing as he jerked in a paroxysm that delighted me. I followed him in an orgasm that convulsed me and rocked us both in sensuous squirmings.

Dear man, how you ram me! Drown my cursed itch. Soothe it with molten spend and the velvet shaft. Strange sighs as we twined, panting in blessed relief from the demon. Oh sir, you are my rescuer.

He closed his eyes, prone on my spread-eagled body, writhing slightly, breathing deeply. "God, that's the best fuck I've had since-since I can't remember!" He made me giggle.

"You're Falke's pussy and you're too good for him, my dear."

I bit my lip. I thought so too, but had no idea how to quit his service.

"The talk is, he's a rabbit, off in a second. Is that true?' "Yes sir," I said.

"Hmmm. You're much too good for him. Any old tart would do him."

I bucked up to him. "Do me again, sir."

He smiled. "You've got the hots, Nell."

"'Tis you gave them t'me," I said. Not quite true, but he couldn't know.

He sighed and rolled off me. I moaned and grabbed at it.

"You'll have to give me a rest, Nell."

"I need it so," I whispered, and smiled my most beguiling.

He patted my tits and tickled my quim so that I squealed. "You'll have to gi' me a rest." He sat up and rearranged his coat and the sash. "Come, let's go find a bit of wine, eh?"

He was very pleasant. Patting my butt and kissing my nipples as I smoothed my gown. "My, you're a beauty, Nellie. You'd give any man a hard. Indeed you would."

I blushed at his kind words. Sin was far behind me this day-I would receive absolvement from the Dear Reverend. I fiddled with his sausage till he took it from me and put it into his pantaloons.

He kissed me in the hallway, sighed, and began to pace, with me on his arm. He was dignified and smiled and bowed at the first person we met. I giggled to think of him only short moments ago. His spend dribbled down my leg as we walked, tickling me. I rubbed my tits on his arm, for my itch was beginning again.

"Later," he whispered.

I noticed Hickey then, standing under an arch, his astonished gaze fixed on me. I looked down hastily to see if my bodice was open, tits hanging out, so intense was his stare, but all was in order. I was perfectly groomed. I smiled at him in passing.

Lord Falke came from a gaming room, saw us and hurried forward to bow.

"Your Highness has met Nellie, then?"

I gasped-Highness!?

"We're old friends," said the Prince. He squeezed my arm-and I swooned.

When I came to, I was lying on a couch with the Prince kneeling by my side, patting my hand and gazing anxiously at me. There was a crowd behind him, Lord Falke included, and Hickey with a glass of water.

I moaned, looked at the Prince and might have swooned away again, had he not pressed the water to my lips and commanded I drink. I sat up with his help, and my head cleared. Several women, with bare nipples blushing red in the circle of neckline, stared at me and whispered together and a half dozen men leered and eyed me with something other than disgust. I could see the looks.

"Ah there, girl," said Falke," you're all right, wot?"

I swallowed hard, averting my eyes from His Highness. What had I done! I had practically attacked him in my awful lust-for shame! Nell, you'll be banished.

Falke helped me up and I whispered to him that I must get to the toilets, and he went across the room with me: "Hurry back, we mustn't keep Willy waiting."

I nodded and ran down the hallway toward my rooms. I would never go back if I could avoid it! The Prince-and I had ripped his pants off! How could I face him again?

Lord Falke came for me soon. I was yet on the bed, supine and diddling myself, for the itch was cursing me. He came in, stared round-eyed and ran at me, pulling at his pants. I shouted in relief as he jumped on the bed and bounced between my thighs-and thrust his blunt tool at my pouting quiff. I shrieked as it dived in and he grunted as it plunged and was grasped.

He beat a veritable tattoo on me, fast as a hummingbird's wings, I thought. Damn you, Johnny Falke! Do me slow and gooey, nice and supple, not like a lark in a doorway. But how could I remonstrate? I had to receive him, and pretend-though I hated him and his rabbit-like ways.

He was in me, ram, ram, ram, and out. I could have cried, frustrated tears of disgust. I flopped onto my stomach, not wishing to see him put the thing away. But he slapped my bare rump: "Up an' dressed, Nellie. Willy is waiting to dance wi' you. Come along, girl. We can't keep 'Is Highness tapping his toe, can we?"

I looked over my shoulder. "I'll come out in a moment, sir-" If he would go I could frig myself for relief.

He shook his head wisely. "Ah no, come along, girl. At once. At once, now."

I had to rise, smooth my dress and comb my hair as he looked on. Oh, God! the itch was tearing at my vitals. I had to grit me teeth to keep from screaming. I managed to rub the twat against an edge of the dressing table, but 'twas not relief but teasing I got. Lord Falke paced up and down, hands behind his back, urging me to hurry, hurry, hurry.

Willy was indeed waiting-I had not believed it. But he was waiting for me, coming toward me, both hands outstretched and pleasure on his square face. "There you are, Nell! Goodness, Falke, did you chase her to Devon?"

"Women," Falke said, shrugging his shoulders.

The Prince ignored him, and everyone else, and took me to the dance floor at once. "I missed you, only that short time," he said gallantly. "My, how beautiful!"

I saw Hickey, his surprised face staring at me. Jenks passed, carrying a tray, nearly spilling the wine as he saw me with His Highness. Oliver danced by, gaping at me with the Prince. I smiled at him and nodded.

"Let's get out of this press," Willy said. "Like a wee drink, my love?"

"Oh, yes sir."

He paused, and the dancers made way for us, flowing around to either side respectfully. "Enough of that 'sir', Nelly. You must call me Willy."

I hugged his arm. "Yes, Willy." And him a Prince!

He chuckled and we went to the bar, set up in the garden. Several servants clattered glasses and decanters in a busy whirl. Everyone stopped as we came near, and the Prince gave our orders and received the drinks instantly. I tried not to look at the women who were regarding me with quiet hostility. If looks could cut to ribbons, I was well slashed.

Lord Falke brooded at us, and I ignored him. Rabbit.

I knew he did not dare interfere with Willy.

We took our drinks to a quiet bower and I nestled as close to him as I could; the itch made me bold. He drained his glass and dropped it, pulled me close and I flung my glass from me and undulated into his arms, lips on lips. Oh, Willy-you're hard!

"God's boils! You'll rape me in public, lass!"

"I don't care-"

"Nor me, but let's away to a more secluded-wait! Why don't you come to London with me?"

"-I don't-"

"I mean, to one of me apartments, just the thing!"

"But sir, Lord Falke-"

"Blast Falke! Does he own you?" I massaged his sausage, both hands on it. "No sir, but- but-"

"I'll see Falke then-I've got to have you, Nell." He kissed me, writhing as I kneaded the rampant organ. "God's liver, Nellie, you fire me! No one ever did that, not like you do-S'help me, stop it or I'll hop on you ri' here!"

"I don't care-" And I didn't. Wanton girl-what a girl will do for a Prince!

He picked my hands away, though I protested, and held them, breathing hard. I pulled them to my tits, but he was firm. "Don't fire me more, lass, I'll put you in a carriage and see Falke-" He took a dozen deep breaths.

He bade me stay where I was and his equerry would put me into the royal carriage. "His name is Jairns, Captain Jairns-" I nodded and he went quickly, looking back and smiling.

Oh, hurry, Willy-I am flushed and restless with longing and desire! Five minutes-and it is a lifetime!

"Miss Nell?" I jumped, startled.

"I am Captain Jairns," the officer said. I rose at once. He was tall as Hickey and handsome in his dark uniform, with coat over one shoulder, moustache, white teeth in the darkness-a man! I moved toward him, eyes shining.

He smiled in return. "Come with me, Miss. The brougham is just over here-" He took my arm and I pressed close to him. The sound of his polished boots on the gravel fired me, so male! I seemed to float along-I was going to the Prince's apartments-to get fucked, and oh, how I needed it! I pushed my tits at Jairns, rubbing them along his arm. He was so strong.

He looked at me-oddly, I thought. "Did you 'ave a cloak, Miss Nell?"

"Willy will get them," I said, urging myself closer. He put his arm about me helping me across the areas of darkness. We were approaching the drive lined with trees and shrubs, path paved with cobbles, uneven and rounded. I slipped and fell into his arms, not wholly unintentional. I giggled as his hand slipped round me, capturing one upstanding breast. So convenient a handle.

He drew in his breath and released the tit. I sighed. Four horses came along the drive, huge in the gloom, snuffling and trotting, proud heads bobbing, reins glistening. The brougham was vast, or so it seemed to my poor eyes, glittering with a crest and with shiny metal. The wheels purred on the tarmac, tyres hissing, spokes flashing sparks of fire-what a fine equipage!

Captain Jairns raised his hand. The driver hauled back on the reins and the carriage came to a halt. Jairns waved away a groom and opened the gilt door and let down the steps for me.

"Three steps, ma'am," he said softly, helping me along. I clung to him as he bent to set my foot on the bottom-most step. Pushing my shoulders forward, I rubbed my eager titties against his face, ruby nipples gushing out of the lace. God help me, I could not resist-he was so beautiful! I heard his strangled breath, felt his hot hands on my waist; I was lifted up through the open door into the perfumed darkness of the interior.

I pulled him, falling onto the soft cushions. He came with me, slamming the door behind us, crowding in upon me. I took his head between my hands, kissing him in terrible ferment. Oh, God save me! In the Prince's brougham!

"God, Miss Nell-" he hissed.

I found his mouth again, stopped it with fiery lips. My legs went up-his body trembled but his dragon was spitting fire-rampant and hunting glory. He tore his breeches open; the feverish spear leapt out and thrust and twitched and lunged. I grasped it in sinuous grappling, guiding it, begging for it! He groaned and propelled it and I screamed in the dark as it skewered me. Oh, Jesus! Kill me with that weapon!

He was a frantic, ramming, bucking thing-I lay back, eyes closed in sheer ecstasy. I clutched him, kissing him, moaning with the wonderful violence of it. Fuck me, dear Captain, drive it in, soothe me!

He was too frenzied. The thing gushed suddenly stinking the close air with sex scent. Throbbing and jerking in climax-oh, another rabbit! I pummeled his back, but to no avail-he was finished.

"You excited me, Nell," he gasped, "too damn much I fear-"

"Don't stop," I begged him, but he shook his head, lips close, his breath hard.

"I must get out of here-it's my 'ead if I'm caught in 'ere with you-" He sank down, dragging the precious thing out of me and I groaned to lose yet another. I mopped his battleground as he knelt before me, straightening his uniform, panting with the strain.

There was a sharp whistle from outside and Captain Jairns jerked his head around.

"It's the Prince-" He grabbed the door handle on the opposite side and flung himself out of the carriage before I could speak. The door slammed and I gulped. I could hear him scurrying around the brougham, then his voice, calm and soldierly: "Miss Nell is inside, Your Highness."

"Good," Willy mumbled, and the door opened.

I giggled at him and he came into my arms instantly. If he had words, I stopped them with my lips and the brougham rolled along the drive.

Before we had gone a dozen yards I was straddling him, and his royal lance up me, bucking over it in sheer bliss.

"God's boils!" Willy said, gasping, then I tore my bodice open and smothered him in tits. I fucked him in a frenzy- poor man, he was the recipient of all the frustration I had had that evening.

I was stark naked when we reached his apartment, still pierced and writhing, giggling under his caresses. Oh, Willy, keep it hard-don't gorge yourself too soon-let me kiss it hard again-Willy! You're biting my tits!

He had to wrap me in his own cloak and carry me in, giggling and kissing him, whispering to him-oh, the things I begged for!

The apartment was dark, and we went straight to the bedroom, slamming the doors and laughing. He tossed me on the bed and lit a lamp, shakily, for I was nibbling on the royal sausage and pulling at it. God save England, and keep her strong. Such hairy balls!

A royal night! Fuckery and love, and Willy woke, limp and feeble but happy withal-glorious morning.

Except that terrible news stalked the land.

Whilst Prince Willy and I had dallied, screwed and laughed-wine flowed and peters dangled-the King had gone to his Maker.

The King was dead-long live the King!

Jesus, God! Willy was King!

I fainted dead away on hearing the news.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"You are a virtuous girl, Nell," said Reverend Twistle earnestly, clasping his hands before him. "Your thoughts are good and you are an honest girl, true and sweet."

I sighed, looking into his sleep-reddened eyes. All England was mourning. I, clad in black, had come for reassurance-even my chemise was black. Had I not sinned on the very night the King had passed?

"Sin is relative," he said, "what is sin for some is not so for others."

"How can that be, sir?"

"It is true." He looked deep into my eyes, pressing my hands warmly. "You yourself have been forced into sinful practises and come out virtuous, have you not?"

"Oh, yes sir."

"Had you gained from these things, then it would have been a different matter-"

"Oh, but I have, sir. I live in a beautiful apartment, the ward of the King-"

"Oh. I see. Well, trust me, Nell. Did you seek this marvelous arrangement? No, of course not. 'tis only sin when one seeks self emolument and gloats over it to the degradation of others. You are a sweet girl, loving and always good to the poor. I promise you there is no sin in your acts. Does the Pr-er-King, bed you often?"

"Yes sir, constantly, sir."

"Ah, that proves my point, Nell-you have been sent by the Almighty to aid and help him in this hour of deep lamentation. He is our leader and the fount of our wisdom. How fitting that he should have as his companion a beautiful girl to settle his nerves and-" I sighed deeply. I had not thought in those terms. Reverend Twistle was deep-seeing, with insight and always compassion for his betters.

"-to give him the love he needs, for great men are lonely. They are lonely, Nell. Cannot you dissolve yourself from the others and give him your constant love and attention? It will aid and comfort the country in the long run."

"Oh, yes sir, I can. And I will."

"You are a sweet child." He patted my hands and included my tits in the patting. "A well-chosen, sweet girl. I am proud of you, Nell."

"I could have done nothing without your guidance," I said.

He looked at me, opening my bodice delicately, and smiled. "I doubt that, dear, sweet Nell. You have the-er -the will and the honesty that shines through." He bared my titties and licked one as I giggled.

"Come to the couch, Nell, we must do battle with the Devil-for you need this as never before."

I nodded quickly. I did need him, oh yes, I was eager for him. Cleanse me, Reverend, for I have much to do for our nation. I must be good and unsmirched for Willy. I must help him over days that are trying, and nights of worry. I must keep him fucked and ready, for England's sake. He is my charge.

"Dear Lord," said Reverend Twistle, atop me and thrusting, "I pray Thee guide Nell's hand, keep her pure and unsullied-"

"Ohhhh," I said, writhing.

But Willy came less and less to our apartment. Affairs of state occupied most of his time, and in the few moments he stole from them to be with me, he worried. He came with a retinue, and never stayed long. A quick screw and off. It was not satisfying. Perhaps Willy was appeased, but it only aroused my terrible itch, and there were times I had preferred he stay away.

It did not take Captain Jairns long to diagnose my problem. His was a quick mind, and I saw him daily so that he apparently studied me and my moods. So that when Willy left me, Captain Jairns appeared, ready to take up the fight where he had broken it off. He was a dear man, and loyal.

For had I not had him, I might, in my harassment, have gone seeking male companionship-any male. For it was true, that as time passed, my curse became more difficult to control and appease. In that sense, Captain Jairns was loyal. He protected his sovereign's mistress.

I had two maids, plus Captain Jairns, assigned to my household. The maids were comely wenches, Betta and Dawn, and not at all like Emily. They were demure and close-mouthed, both married and settled. They were always formal with me, on the strictest orders from his Majesty.

Only once did I detect any variation from the rules. One night, quite late, I went to the kitchen and found Betta there with a strange man, not her husband. She was nearly naked and it caused us some stiffness in the days that followed, but I mainly ignored it and her.

Captain Jairns told me that she was known for her affairs with men, though in most ways she was religious and very sedate. "I 'ad her meself once," he said to me one evening over a glass of wine. "Fucks like a sow in 'eat."

He was cute. I often wondered if Willy realized the dangers in placing an equerry like Captain Jairns to care for me-a man so handsome and smooth. Jairns, in his turn, had several men under him, to care for horses and carriage and to do many of the tasks for which men are more suited.

Shortly after becoming King, Willy had moved me to a charming house surrounded by an estate of park-like quiet. Every day I went for long walks about the grounds, and nearly every day Captain Jairns met me somewhere along the way and accompanied me, arm in arm, through the trees where we could not easily be spied on.

"You know I love you, Nell," he said to me one day- and astonished me thoroughly.

I stopped in my tracks, parasol at port arms and regarded him with open mouth.

"Come, girl," be said, "look at yourself, how could I not love you?"

"But I-well, I-"

"I know, you're the King's mistress, but you can't help that."

I bit my lip and looked at him, ready to laugh or cry, I knew not which. He was so handsome. He pulled on his wonderful moustache and glowered at me.

"You don't love him, Nell. It's just that he's the King. I realize no girl could turn him away-I don't blame you."

"Blame me!"

"Well-I-" I turned on my heel and stalked away. What right had he to judge me! I was furious. He pattered after, apologizing over and over.

I let him apologize long after I was of a mood to forgive him. Giving him the cold shoulder, we came to a pool and I stopped to feed the ducks and swans as was my wont. Then I let him entice me into a boat, and we floated on silent waters, fragrant with lilies and crowned with bird songs. It was one of the times when my itch did not assail me, and yet I let him take me.

The woodland scene wooed me, and his warm embrace could not be dismissed. We kissed, and kissed again, and as the boat drifted under weeping trees, I fed him soft coral nipples and sweet kisses from an exultant heart. I think I loved him then.

He wooed me from lips to cunt-kissing all the tender passion. Jairns, you devil! You knew how to excite a girl! Kisses that started at my ankles, rode up, up, up, to dimpled knees and further. Oh, Precious God! Kiss me where the ecstasy stirs! He crawled up under my lifted skirt as I lay in the boat, breast heaving, eyes fluttering. Flames and exquisite torture-it smears the brain and floods every capillary with excruciating sensation. Suck me, darling- Captain darling, exactly where the itch begins.

Let it continue till the end of the world. Never stop, for I am in utter and constant rapture-how many times can I come? It is a mystical, entrancing coma in which I am immersed, and I slither in a fantasy of never-ending voluptuousness.

I was conscious that he exchanged mouth for rampant prick, and back again, assailing me with both, soothing me with tongue, goading me with prong; darling man.

It was dark when I opened my eyes, thinking myself still in a conjured world, vibrating to his lips, trembling at his nether kisses.

He was carrying me through the woods, and me mostly naked. I woke and giggled, my itch returning with consciousness. I reached down and found his flagging cock still hanging out. He put me down then.

"So you're awake at last-"

"Awake?"

He shook his brown head at me. "Damme, Nell, you've been and scared me half to death. You've been like one crazed for hours. Don't you remember anything at all?"

"Fuck me," I whispered. "I've been doin' it all afternoon," he said in a disgusted tone.

I was handling his sausage and found it flaccid. He was telling the truth I realized. And I had been unconscious- ar at least not really aware. I bit my lip in sudden worry.

"Now let's dress you." He pulled me around and made me straighten skirts and blouse, button them and tie them, for my titties were waggling bare and bold. "You wouldn't let me button a thing-" I giggled; he was cute. I ducked my head and sucked hard on the flaccid thing, but nothing. He merely lifted me with a sigh.

"Later on, darling."

I still had the itch, and he was no good-his cock was exhausted at any rate. Underneath I had the worry, but I suppressed it. I let him dress me and we went on to the house. He put me inside and disappeared, white about the gills. I had undoubtedly tried him sore. I wondered if he still loved me.

It was night and I was terribly hungry. Dawn brought me supper, and I found myself watching her with lust in my heart-I wanted her, I realized. I had made love with women, and found them delicious. My craving was not sated by the afternoon's dalliance. What was going to become of me if this continued?

I put it out of my mind, watching her shapely legs and the lilt of her bosom-I could not help but lick my lips at sight of her flesh, longing to touch her. Perhaps I made her nervous, for she beat a hasty retreat and I was left with desire and no fulfillment. I ate the food listlessly, and when I was alone, found my finger crawling to my quim to appease the itch. Brownie-oh Brownie, come fuck me! You great cock of a man!

Where was he now? I should go to him-and yet-could I? Captain Jairns would never allow me outside the grounds at night without the King's approval. I was the King's cunt. Lucky me.

Harry, you started this-this desire and lust in me. You aroused me with your on-and-off performance-but was it really Harry?

Who cared? I wanted a man. There were men on the grounds-grooms, gardeners, cooks; I ripped off my clothes, and ran naked through the house. Free! I was free! In front of a mirror, I admired my lovely body, so shapely, well tilted and pink. Round, luscious, desirable, any man would desire such a dainty morsel! Any man!

I undulated obscenely, giggling at myself. I fingered the red gash that peeked from between shapely thighs and curling wet hair. I was beautiful!

A hairbrush caught my eye and I put the handle of it into myself, giggling and twiddling it. Oh, so hard! Much harder than a prick; and it would never soften and grow flaccid-but it was only a brush handle, not a man.

Perhaps Captain Jairns was asleep. I could entice one of the grooms to take me into London. Perhaps I could find Brownie-or Charley Dartle. Charley would slip his quick cock into me, and laugh as he worked it. Where are you Charley-when I need you?

I must dress and go. I tossed the brush away and ran for my closet. A candle caught my eye and I paused and yanked it from its socket and staggered along the hallway diddling myself with it-Brownie, it feels like you!

Clothes, a row of them, row on row. Too much trouble to dress. A cloak-I wrapped myself in a cloak, giggling. Naked underneath-how Brownie would laugh with me.

Quiet with the door, Captain Jairns must not hear-and patter around to the servant's door. Hugh answers. Hugh is squat, strong, beetle-browed: "Come, hitch me a carriage, Hugh. I must go at once to London."

Not a question. He came at once, calling something to those inside, but I was pattering toward the stables.

"Your boots, Miss-you've no boots on."

In the shadow of the stable I looked down. It was true, I had no boots on. I giggled at him. Opening the cloak wide, I laughed at his expression: "I've no clothes either-" He scooped me up and I chortled as he bore me into the stable hastily. I hissed into his ear: "Fuck me, fuck me, Hugh darling-" My back on the straw, Hugh's mighty form on me, prodding me unmercifully. He is so in earnest, plunging and pumping the foaming prick-it makes me laugh. It feeds my itch.

But it is not Hugh, it is-what is his name, the other groom? No, there are five of them-crowding about, a candle flickering on the ledge behind them, whispering, holding, feeling me, pronging me-one at a time. It makes me giggle. Oh, such joy!

Was it joy? They would have left me there on the straw, stinking with spend, legs spread obscenely; wicked men. But Hugh had compassion, some vestige of feeling. Before he collapsed from fuckery he called Captain Jairns. Jairns told me later that he found them, all five of them, fucked out, lying about my naked, writhing form in the stable.

He had put me to bed, then washed me when I was conscious. I had been completely out of my head. Oh, how I worried on hearing it! I had little memory of the fact.

"The King must never know," Captain Jairns said most earnestly. "I have put the men under an oath, and will never let them out of my sight. If the news of such a thing spreads, it could rock the throne!"

I stared at him in a terrible fear. One tiny cunt could rock a throne! Incredible, yet I believed him.

"I must put you under lock and key, Nell," he said smiling sadly.

"Oh, my darling-"

"And you must not excite yourself, for I fear that you can no longer control your passions."

I hung my head and twined my fingers. I knew he was right. There was only one way to deal with such an itch- lock it up.

"Are you-er-all right-now?"

I nodded. I felt perfectly normal. Though, if his penetrating eyes did not bathe me I would feel better, and if his wonderful moustache-I sighed. "What causes the-er-?"

"The itch?" I asked innocently.

"Yes, the-er-itch."

I looked at him and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it- ah, it's caused by-"

"Kissing?"

I nodded.

"And caresses too?"

"Oh yes." I smiled brightly and looked at the front of his breeches. Did they bulge ever so slightly?

He sucked in his breath, noticing my stare. He rose quickly and stepped backward away from me... as though I had some fearful disease. It almost made me giggle.

"You must think of other things, Nell. Flowers, the fields, horses-"

"Horses have cocks," I said wistfully.

He clamped his teeth down. "Think of inanimate things, Nell. Keep your mind on religion and good works."

"Religion?" I smiled at him. Reverend Twistle.

"Oh, yes, religion. Read your Bible, and pray, Nell. For you are really a good, sweet girl."

I smiled again. Exactly what the good Reverend had said to me. I thought of him, dreamily. Oh, dear Reverend Twistle, he would rescue me from this awful malady.

"Yes, I will pray," I said. "That will help me, I know it will."

He sighed in relief. "I'll send you a Bible."

"Thank you."

"You must see no one but the King."

I nodded demurely. He was right, of course. I would take walks and keep my own counsel. It would be best. I must not allow temptation to topple the throne.

"Perhaps you'll get over it," he said hopefully.

I nodded again, not looking at him. What a wonderful moustache-so masculine.

"Ask for anything you want, Nell-" I sighed. "There is one thing-"

"Anything, so long as it's not a man." He made a clumsy joke and laughed shortly until I glanced at him disapprovingly.

"I have a priest, an old family friend."

"Of course," he said with enthusiasm. "I'll bring him here to the chapel."

"No, you must take me to him. I must confess my little -sins." I smiled as demurely as I could. "What tiny sins you allow me."

"Of course, Nell. I'll take you whenever you wish."

I smiled and watched him close the door behind him. I heard it lock, and I sighed.

The King's pussy-locked in a room.

CHAPTER TWELVE

My confinement by Captain Jairns made a great deal of difference in all our lives. I knew immediately that all our tight little household was aware of my-problem. Even my two maids.

Everywhere I went, I could feel their eyes on me. The grooms, Hugh and the rest, leered at me-saying nothing but following me with long, lingering looks. They had all had me, naked and screaming with lust, and I knew they were eager for another chance to repeat their party. It threw me closer together with Captain Jairns, for he dared not let me out of his sight.

I liked that. He was so handsome and masculine and his moustache was so fierce! I dreamed of it. Sometimes the moustache was deep in my puss, tickling me-but I must put those thoughts behind me.

A week passed, after the terrible debacle in the stable, and nothing at all happened. Our lives were ordered and sedate. I kept my thoughts on uplifting subjects, did not even see men or talk to them-with the exception of a very correct Captain Jairns-and all went well. My itch did not trouble me. I was very happy. The Reverend would be proud of me.

Then one night the King and his escort came rumbling into the grounds in three carriages, with a troop of horsemen surrounding them. Lamps were lit everywhere, shouts -and Captain Jairns came running to knock on my door.

"It's the King," he said breathlessly, "he's come to fa- er-to see you. Get dressed!"

I was flustered. His Majesty had forgotten me, I had thought. I had only a few minutes to primp and dab perfume behind my ears. His heavy step was on the stair: "Nellie!"

I ran to him; he looked so magnificent in his robe and the uniform he wore beneath it: "Willy!"

"Ah, Nell, how I've missed you, girl. How I've missed you! Damme, I must not let them separate us this way."

We kissed, and he slammed the door, picked me up bodily and carried me to the bed. I curled into his arms as he stood above, hugging me, kissing me with passion.

"God's boils, Nell, it seems a year!"

He put me on the bed and I pulled him down and crawled instantly into his arms, opening my blouse and giving him my breasts-he sucked in his breath at their beauty. "God, Nell-" His medals and the gold lace were cold. "Take oft the uniform, Willy-"

"Oh that I could! I must on to the palace, girl. I've really only a moment-" He sighed. "I must spirit you into the palace; we'll do it, yes." He pulled at my bodice and ripped at my straps.

"Oh, Willy! Only a minute?" I could not find his cock amid all the straps and harness and his sword-the things men wore!

He flung my dress up, pushed my legs apart and climbed on me, fumbling at the heavy uniform. There was little time for the niceties. I thrust myself at him, hips squirming, hoping he could find the thing-and he did. It poked me and I reached for it, guiding it into the nest, feeling him lunge and plant it. I gasped at the strength of it.

"Oh, Willy!"

"You've missed me too, girl? Oh, I hope you have- you've been good for me?"

"Very good, Willy darling. Thinking only of you."

He kissed me and pumped it hard and energetically. His sword rattled with each thrust. So male!

"Any complaints, Nell? Is all as it should be?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"Jairns doing his duty?"

"Yes sir, very competent, Willy. I feel so safe with him in charge."

"Good, good, good, excellent. Jairns is a fine fellow and a good officer. Am I hurting you?"

I giggled and shook my head, "No, no, I love the way you do it."

He kissed me. "You're happy?"

"I get lonely for you-"

"You sweet child. I wish I had more time; this cursed crown is heavy." He rammed me hard, the sword clanked.

"We must do something-I'll think of something-"

"Fuck me, Willy," I begged softly.

He laughed, battering my quim. "Sweet girl-" He assaulted me hotly, tempo increasing-hissing breath. I helped, squeezing the dong, thrusting back-and then he let it go. I felt it spurt and his writhings became feverish- he was spending, and I kissed him wildly.

"Oh, my God, Nell-"

"Don't talk, my darling."

"You've got the finest cunt in England!"

I giggled, feeling him poke and struggle-and sag. Oh, dear man, King, but man.

He lay inert for long moments, then he stirred and sighed. "I must go. God's word, I wish I could stay! I wish I could stay."

"And I."

He roused himself and sat up, pushing the sword aside. I scurried from under him and helped him put the fine uniform to rights, tits waggling nakedly. He felt them and kissed them, and I think he would have let me crawl into his lap to receive the lance again, but men were shouting below in the yard. He sighed deeply and shook his head sadly.

"Shit, what a heavy load a man bears."

"Come back to me-"

"I will soon." He stood and adjusted the sword and the robe about his shoulders. I sat on the bed and watched. What a fine figure! How I itched for him!

"I will, soon, Nellie-" He took my hand and we went to the door like lovers. He kissed me, opened the door, and was gone. Quick and short. He was gone and I leaned on the door in tears. Oh, how I itched!

I rubbed the place, put my finger into it and salved it, hearing the broughams and the horsemen clattering into the misty distance. I was still slumping against the door soothing it when Captain Jairns came in.

He took my hand from my quivering quim and carried me to the bed. "Now you need me, eh?"

I giggled as he fucked me-hard and soundly. Blessed keeper. Blessed relief-that lasted only a short time. "Again-" I begged.

"Gi' me a minute, girl-a man's not a machine, you know."

"Get me a machine," I giggled.

"You'd wear the fucker out," he grumbled. He let me mouthe it hard-sweet thing. Then on again and into me, into the breach! Fight, fight, fight! How strong, how muscular! Drive it in! I screamed with the luxury of it. Flurries and drenching tribute to the God of Fuckery. Oh, voracious Captain, how I adore you!

The bed squeaks, groans, can they hear it below? Who cares? Let them frig themselves in the sound and their fantasies.

He belaboured me, panting desperately, shoving, prodding, pumping, humping frenziedly-and spouting. "Jezis, Nell, you'll kill me-!"

I held him, pulled at him, thrust up, pouting quim eager for every drop, sucking at his cock. Oh, darling Captain- gossamer dreams, convulsions! Fuck me forever! The door is reverberating.

He was pale and heavy-lidded as he slumped over me. I squeezed the prick, feeling it fade, wrinkling, and I cried, kissing his neck.

Who was pounding at the door? Captain Jairns stirred. "Who the 'ell?" I licked into his ear; he shuddered and pushed me away. "Th' door-" He got up with a rush and struggled into his breeches, patting himself proper. He hissed at me: "Be quiet-shhh." I sat up and watched him go into the sitting room and heard him open the door. I could not see, but I could hear perfectly.

"'Ere, wot's this?" Captain Jairns said in some surprise. I could picture him glaring.

"We-uh, we wants-uh, wants-"

"Want what, Hugh?" Jairns' voice was acid. Hugh, the groom, was at my door?

"We wants our turn at 'er-" Hugh's voice had gained courage. "What!"

"You're a-fuckin' 'er, sir. Why not us too?"

"Christ! You're out of your minds! She's the King's property!"

I giggled under the sheets, listening to them. "That may as be, sir, but after t 'other night-"

"What about it?" Jairns was still acid, but he had not slammed the door.

"You can't go to 'Is Majesty 'bout us, we thinks, sir. You're as deep as we is. It's yer neck too, sir."

There was silence. I knew Captain Jairns was furious, glaring at the man. I suppressed my giggles. Oh, how I itched!

"We could 'ear you downstairs, sir. Fuckin' 'er proper."

I got out of bed and padded to the door, standing there with a sheet about me. Hugh saw me at once and grinned. Captain Jairns whirled about, his face red.

"Get back!" he yelled.

"I'll not," I said, wishing I could scratch. I giggled at Hugh. His fingers twitched.

Then Hugh pushed past Captain Jairns. Jairns yelped, but there were three behind Hugh, and they shoved him aside.

Hugh came up to me, his broad peasant's face red and his eyes sparkling at sight of my pinkness. I dropped the sheet slightly, to show my cleavage. The eyes behind Hugh dropped with it. I had to giggle-all those males!

"Nell!" shouted Captain Jairns, "lock the door!"

Hugh chuckled and came forward, his arms about my waist. I let go the sheet. His hands were hot. He gasped at my sudden nakedness; Then, with a rush, he ran with me to the bed, tossing me down and jumping on me. I squealed! His cock was out, poking at me. I spread wide, grabbing at it! Oh, crazy itch! The others jumped on the bed, holding me, pulling my legs wide. The cock went in, rammed deep and I shrieked. We were frantic! He fucked me wildly, all of us hissing and bouncing with the furious energy of it. I clutched his shoulders, thrusting up and revolving my hips as hard as I could!

I looked over his shoulder, seeing Captain Jairns leaning against the door. He was ashen-staring at us. I blew him a kiss-all I could spare.

They pulled Hugh off me as he was spouting-it spit over my belly, smoky and pungent. Tom Whick scrambled into the place, jabbing his penis into my throbbing, red gash, his breath whistling in his eagerness. Ramming, bucking, berserk with fever! I could not help but scream with delight at such beautiful delirium.

The poor bed crumpled with our weight and the pounding it took, but Tom never lost a stroke. They shouted, but only shoved the broken wood aside, feeling me, tits and butt, urging Tom on. "Hurry it, hurry it for Lord's sake-" Pulling at him, faces mottled with lust.

Captain Jairns ran at them suddenly, yanking at arms and legs. Two of them rose and attacked him, kicking and slashing; he collapsed, moaning. Then they returned to pull Tom Whick off me as I growled and shuddered. And then cooed as Petey scrambled atop me, shoving, thrusting and digging it deep. Oh, rapturous dragon! The room smelled of sex perfume. They were maddened with wanting. Hugh masturbated over my leg, pushing at Petey, running his hand up under me. Tom Whick rolled on the floor in a paroxysm of orgasm, still spitting from his red truncheon. I saw them with misting eyes, glazing with sensuous idyllic coma.

A man screamed out, yelling words I could not understand. My body was pummeled, warped and twisted, now supine, now prone, and I felt the excruciating agony of a licentious prong in my anus, oozing, penetrating, thrusting, searing me. Merciful blackness closing down, tears-where are you, Reverend?

The room is black. I am on the floor, not the bed, but on the floor, cold. Pain! Someone is eating at me-biting me! I writhe to escape the mouth between my thighs. Hands clutch me, pull me, and animal sounds come from his voice. Kicking out with my legs, I push him off as he snarls viciously. Roll away, Nell!

There is a faint dawn light from the window. My eyes are accustomed to the gloom. I can see him, rising, naked as I. He is feeling about for me. He cannot find me. He growls suddenly, pleased. He has found one of the others. I stare, watching him attack the wrinkled cock, ravishing it. He is glutted and stupefied.

I crawl to the door. Oh, how I burn! They have raped me, eaten me, harassed me-Captain Jairns! Help me! The fire leaps between my round thighs, flaming unchecked.

Someone is following me!

"Nell-iszat you, girl?"

It is Tom Whick. I patter to the stairs, down them, tripping and holding on, hearing him pound after me. Don't let him catch me!

Captain-where are you?

Bodies at the foot of the stairs. Dawn's voice: "W'o's that, someone's comin', Hugh-" He growls, and I can see him between her spread thighs on the carpet, thwacking her. She sees me and her eyes go round, for I am naked. Footsteps clatter down the stairs. I run to the door and out into the night. Dawn shouts behind me: "Nell-Nell-" Hugh is off her and running after me, his red cock pointing. I scream and trip-sprawling headlong. And he is on me. I feel him, hands, hot breath, cock up me! Jezis! Quench the fires, Hugh!

"Now, now," he soothes, reaming me, "don' struggle so, Miss, you ain't 'urt."

Betta's voice, screaming from the stable. Everyone is mad. I am bucking in paroxysms, the glorious sensation flooding me. Hugh is gentle now, I can scarcely feel him. We undulate together, floating, dreamy in lissom fogs.

I hear myself giggling.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Our little world is topsy-turvy.

In the morning I found myself in my broken bed, in company with Betta and Petey. Betta was disheveled, naked and mostly drunk with wine. Petey slept, snoring, and she regarded me with owl's eyes: "Gawd, Miss ain't it a fine party?"

I brushed the hair out of my eyes, staring at Petey's flaccid prick. She had hold of it, and her a married woman. She grinned and shrugged.

"We ain't a tellin' is we, Miss?"

I shook my head and got up; the room was heady with spend fumes. I tottered to the closet and drew on a robe. What if the King should pay us a surprise visit?

Betta got to her feet and followed me, weaving and holding to the stair rail, tits waggling-pointy ones. She was pretty out of her stuffy clothes.

"Gawd, I been had, Miss; Jezis, if Morrie finds out-" Captain Jairns was in his room. I knocked and went in at his growl. He jumped up, seeing me.

"Nell!"

I fell into his arms, crying. Oh, let them flow, girl, for you are miserable. He petted me, taking me to the bed, sitting me down, soothing me.

"There, there, Nellie-it's crazy, and I don't know what to do-"

"They won't obey you-" He shook his head, eyes red from lack of sleep. "It's blackmail, Nell. I should have denounced them when they first-raped you. Now they hold it over my head."

"What would the King do?"

"Christ, I don't know. Ship us all to far places, I expect, or gaol. Probably solitary confinement. I don't know what to do, I don't know-" I held him, tears sliding down my cheeks; still naked as birth under the thin robe. "Are you all right?"

I nodded. I was not hurt-soundly fucked, but not hurt. The spend still sizzled in my quim, drooling out wetly, but I ignored it. The terrible itch was appeased for the moment. But he felt good to me. I sighed in some contentment. It was warm in his arms.

"We've got to come to an agreement, these louts and I," he said, moodily. "They'll have us all in dankness if I leave them to it. Jesus, my soul, how could we come to this?"

"It's my fault," I said in a small voice. He petted me, holding me close. "I love you, Nell. Don't think ill of yourself."

"But this wouldn't have happened if-"

"Shush." He stopped my mouth with his lips. Dear, sweet man. What a lovely moustache.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The King came to see me again, a quick unannounced visit that took us all by surprise. It was at night and late, so that the poor condition of the grounds was not obvious. None of the gardeners had done much work.

Poor Captain Jairns was nearly beside himself with worry-and when Willy appeared in his carriage with a troop of horsemen, lancers this time, he nearly collapsed.

Willy was in a terrible hurry. I think that saved us all- that and the dark night.

I was in Betta's rooms when the horsemen rode into the grounds, on her bed with one of the footmen atop me, alas. Betta was drunk, in another room with Petey.

At the first horn's blast, Petey jumped off her and ran to the window, ripping the curtains aside. I heard him moan -"It's the King-" Then he began to shout, running about the room in panic, moaning and wringing his hands.

The footman rolled off me, whimpering. They were all suddenly helpless with fear. My heart was in my poor throat, pounding and throbbing so that I thought I would swoon. I managed to get out of the bed, naked as usual, and tottered toward the door. I knew I must not be found in her room.

I knew I was dripping spend, but the thing uppermost in my mind was returning to my own apartment. I could hear Willy's step on the stairs when I got to the door. I ran like a deer to a closet and drew on a thin silken robe and met him at the door, trembling and white-faced.

He was jovial, thinking me happy to see him and excited. I nearly fainted away again. I was so frightened I could only mumble to him, kiss him, and hope he did not feel my cunt. Oh, to be fucked shamefully just before Willy arrived! If he noticed we were all done for!

But he bedded me quickly. I burrowed myself into his arms, feeling for the royal lance and guiding it to its lair. I fucked myself over it in desperate haste so that he would not realize it was slimy with common sperm. He was so aroused at that, he noticed nothing. I made him glut himself on me with convulsing fever. His pantings and spasms were music to my ears.

"God's warts, Nell, you'll kill me with love!"

"But I do love you, Willy-" He was gentle and dear, kissing me and fondling me. "I'll have a surprise for you, my sweet, as soon as I return-I must go now, I must."

"Never think ill of me, Willy."

"What?" He sat up, looking at me with surprise. "Ill of you?"

I scurried around and kissed him passionately. "I mean-"

"You're a dear, lovely girl, and I could never-but enough of that. I must away. Where's that stupid sword- here it is."

I went with him to the door, clinging to him, wanting more of him, wishing he could stay forever. I think I began to really love him at that moment. And he seemed to know it by my response as he kissed me good-bye.

He was no King then, he was a lover.

That sudden visit made a great difference all at once in our lives. It seemed to bring them all to their senses, seeing the lances of the soldiers. Perhaps they could picture themselves spitted on those glittering points.

When Willy had gone, I found Betta crying miserably. "Oh, we been tumble, Miss, we been and done tumble things-" Captain Jairns came up the steps to my apartment, his face still ashen in the gloom.

"We've had a close call, girl," he said in a shaky voice. "Did His Majesty notice aught?"

I shook my head, feeling spend trickling down my thighs. I felt terribly tired. Then I began to tremble. With the danger past, the reaction set in. I could not stop trembling. Betta put me to bed with Captain Jairns standing over me, clasping his hands.

We were all nervous wrecks.

The very next day I beseeched Captain Jairns to have a carriage hitched up and to drive me to London to see Reverend Twistle. Hugh and the others were surly, looking at us suspiciously, but allowing us to depart-with Petey as driver.

"We're all in this together," Jairns told them in the stable. "Never fear, the King shall never know. I have no wish to lose me head."

The dear priest was overjoyed to see me.

I went into his study alone, leaving Captain Jairns and Petey in the carriage. Reverend Twistle was almost gay, taking my hands, kissing them and holding me close. I had not seen him for a fortnight.

"I've been thinking of you every moment-" Goodness, he was so eager to fight the Devil! I was slightly taken aback to be couched so quickly. Usually we prayed a bit first.

He noticed my surprise: "There is so much sin rampant, my dear. I could smell it on you-" He laid me down and frothed up my skirts and petticoats.

"-and I confess I am impatient to aid you for it has been so long since we... prayed together."

Oh, Reverend, would that all churchmen battled His Evilness as you do! Your mighty truncheon laid about it with fire and berserk energy! Oh, gushing, stalwart staff so tumid, as a mystical tusk in the Lord's work! Prithee, fu- er-fight with me Reverend!

"For the Lord's sake, my dear girl," he panted, "you are delectable, beautiful, and you provoke me to-"

"To prayer, sir?"

"Oh, yes, to prayer." He bowed his head on my shoulder, pumping the swollen organ of devotion into its nave, "confess your sins, my dear."

As I writhed with him, I confessed the awful facts of the King's betrayal. He was astonished at the multiple rapes and the impudence displayed.

"Disgraceful!" he gasped, prodding me with every word. "You, the King's cu-er-companion-to be treated in such cavalier fashion! What has the kingdom come to!? Where is England? Woe is our land-" He was distraught, for he has compassion for all men and royalty too. He said a prayer for Captain Jairns and bade me wish him well. And he trembled with me, lest Willy discover the truth: "For the truth would hurt all England, my dear. The King must never know."

How that was possible I could not see. I knew we were doomed, but I held my tongue. The grooms and gardeners were criminals and rapists, but I could not denounce them, not even to Reverend Twistle.

My thoughts were not long on the rape; hungry men of our household, for the terrible itch came flooding back as Reverend Twistle's prolonged bout with the Horned Creature beckoned it. Sir Evil was fighting back; I knew it, of course, and told him.

It was necessary to divest myself of my clothes, because the room became heated as my poor brain. And as I became more naked, the dear man became more ardent in his Devil-wrestling.

I scissored him and held him, writhing in excruciating prayerful delight for every thrust and twist was a slash at depravity. I bit his ear, "Fuck me, fuck me-o" He did not reprimand me, for he knew I was sodden with the mighty struggle and delirious in thought, but he did as I commanded with frantic grappling.

Hours went by, and I knew it not. The red misty smears were back, enfolding me in a world of flawless silk and serpentining fantasy. Everything I touched was satiny and smooth, floating, colorful, bathed in delightful music. I was at peace with my rescuer, and one with him. His long soothing organ moved within me, pirouetting and surging. Nothing could harm us.

I did not want to return to consciousness and fought it- but inevitably my eyes opened and I looked up at the ceiling of Reverend Twistle's study. I was nude, on my back, and as I glanced around me I saw the dear man curled on a rug before the fire. He too was naked. And as I stirred he groaned and turned his head. I was surprised to see him so drawn.

"Ah, Nell, you're awake at last-" I sat up, clutching the shred of pillow to my wagging breasts. "What o'clock is it?"

"'Tis late, I fear." He drew his clothes near and put them on with agonized slowness, looking at me with so saintly an expression that I could not help but go quickly to him, kissing him dear.

I remembered Captain Jairns then, with a gasp of breath. Dressing as rapidly as I could, I went to the door of the study and pulled the blinds aside. The carriage still stood before the door, and when I went outside in the gloom I found them both, Jairns and Petey, asleep in the back.

I hurried back to the study. Reverend Twistle was pale as death, professing himself quite all right, but I could see him totter and clutch the furniture of the study. He had made a hard and gallant fight with me. How I loved him for it!

"Nell," he said, pressing my hands, "I am older than you and no less willing to engage the Specter, but my flesh is less able to meet the immense demands-" I was contrite. "I am selfish, sir!"

"No, no, no, Nellie. We must, must continue this glorious battle. Your very soul is at stake. But do not stay thus long, girl. We exhaust ourselves... in your behalf. 'Twould be better if we joined the fray more often." I nodded, wondering how my itch would fare under daily circumstances, but I would never contradict him. We said our fond good-byes, and I woke the two in the carriage.

On the way to the grounds, our coach was overtaken by a troop of lancers and brought to a halt.

"Hold!" a lieutenant called, "in the King's name."

I put my head out the window, astonished, then fearful of the reason. I caught a glimpse of Petey's ashen face-and of Captain Jairns, white as the underbelly of a fish; the two of them were frightened out of their wits. And I not far behind.

The carriage rolled to a stop as Gates braked hurriedly; troopers galloped up and grabbed the leader's reins. The lieutenant, when he saw me, made a deep bow.

"Ah, the esteemed Miss Nell?"

"Yes sir."

He smiled dazzlingly. "I have orders, Miss, to escort you at once to the palace."

Captain Jairns got his breath and some of his color back. He climbed down and the two conversed, then Jairns came up to the window and smiled.

"God, you're going to live at the palace, Nell!"

I bit my lip, staring at them all.

"It's the answer to our prayers," he hissed, so no one could hear us. "We'll all be directly under His Majesty's influence, the mutiny is over-they wouldn't dare touch you now!" Captain Jairns was right. What happened to Hugh, Betta, Dawn and the others I have no idea. I was ensconced in a lovely apartment at the palace, and Willy came to see me the first night.

He had been told I was in the city in a coach: "To see my priest, Sire."

He made a wry face. "A priest?"

"Yes, Willy. He is a dear man and my confessor-" He laughed, "Surely you have nothing to confess. Priests are troublemakers."

I looked down, and he raised my chin with a gentle finger. "Sorry, ma'am."

I laughed at him, so darling he was. We went at once to the bedroom where I undressed him. This time he wore no sword. And he stayed the night.

In the morning he was as pale and drawn as the. Reverend Twistle had been. "Mercy," he breathed as I kissed him good morning.

"Have I pleased Your Majesty?"

He looked at me languidly, feeling my tits under the covers. "Foolish girl-you are my life."

I kissed him. "Then Sire," I whispered in his ear, "grant me a boon."

"Anything, Nell, anything."

"Bring my priest to the palace."

He was startled, staring at me for a long moment. Seeing I was serious, he shrugged. "I didn't know you were of a religious bent, my dear."

"I pray for you daily."

He smiled. I think I had touched him.

Patting my round titties, he sighed. "Then consider it done. We'll see he becomes a bishop, would that please you?"

I giggled. Oh, he was cute. I could not help thinking of battling the Horned One with a bishop.

And so it was done. I, a poor girl from the slums, became the most influential woman in the land. And dear Reverend Twistle, a simple pastor, became a bishop.

Together we kept sin from the palace. Willy and I traveled the world-taking Reverend Twistle, of course. And Willy never knew how desperately the good cleric and I prayed and battled-for his good as well as mine.

So, gentle reader, work hard and persevere, for good will always triumphs-if you do proper battle in the proper place.

As often as possible.

THE END
Maid of Delight ....(118k)    by Florent d'Asherville




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