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by V.W. Singer
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Young Lady Chastity Fitzhugh was a wealthy heiress. She was also by nature a lover of women and a sexual sadist. However, she was a sadist lacking any victims, since Victorian propriety made any kind of sexual adventure nearly impossible for an unmarried woman. Then she was inspired by the example of the newly reformed Workhouses for the poor, which subjected the inmates to a harsh and draconian regime. There were no equivalent institutions in existence to aid upper class women in financial difficulty, or to provide them with educational opportunities. Inspired by the workhouses, Chastity creates the Lady House, a place of refuge and hope for (attractive) impoverished ladies of good breeding and backgrounds -- provided they committed themselves completely to satisfying Chastity's lustful desires. Victorian naughtiness, lesbian sex, flagellation and delicious sexual torments await all visitors to the Lady House -- and you are most cordially invited.
eBook Publisher: Fiction4All,
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [333 KB]
Reading time: 219-307 min.
Lady Chastity Fitzhugh gently fanned herself and smiled at the girl reflected in the large, gilt framed mirror that appeared to be a gaudy doorway into a second ballroom adjacent to the one in which she sat. Could one so innocent looking truly be filled with improper thoughts and urges, she mused. Her smile widened. Of course it could, since she was looking at herself, and who knew better than she the wickedness that simmered beneath her completely proper exterior.
Her chaperone, Mrs Lane-Fox leaned close. "Excessive vanity is most unbecoming in a proper young lady," she whispered reprovingly, although there was more than a trace of laughter in her voice.
Her chaperone's French perfume tickled Chastity's senses, and she gazed down appreciatively at the woman's powdered and well displayed cleavage, from an angle and proximity that most men would never achieve. "I was simply marvelling at how deceptive one's external countenance could be as a guide to the personality within."
"A fact that mankind has probably pondered ever since God placed us upon this earth."
"Or at least since Eve convinced Adam to taste of the Apple," Chastity chuckled, thinking of the frustrated swarm of unsuccessful suitors that gazed longingly in her direction from all corners of the ballroom.
"I think you should give one of them at least a glimmer of hope or people will begin to wonder."
"My goodness, a chaperone who bids her charge to flirt. I am shocked, madam, utterly shocked, I say." She fanned herself as if feeling faint.
It was the young French widow's turn to laugh. "And stop staring so openly at the bubbies of all the charming young things, or there may be even more difficult questions asked. It is not what one does, but ..."
"... what one is seen to do. I know, I know. You've warned me often enough -- mine aunt," Chastity said, deliberately emphasising the word "aunt", which in common slang referred to a procuress or bawd -- although a delicate young thing such as her would not be normally assumed to know such a meaning.
"Ooh, touche, ma chere." Mrs Lane-Fox purred, fluttering her fan, and arching her carefully plucked eyebrows.
Chastity sighed with an air of martyrdom. "I suppose I shall have to let one or two of them dance with me." She found the majority of the men of her acquaintance to be deadly dull, concerned with nothing but horses, cards, and -- though they never mentioned it in her presence -- bedding every piece of laced mutton they could get their hands on, or that their finances would support.
* * * *
The steady clatter of the horses' steel shod hooves on the road sounded steady and comforting, and Chastity leaned back in her seat with a sigh of relief, glad of the extra space of the clarence. Fashionable skirts seemed to get wider and more difficult to manoeuvre with every year. She fanned her self, her bosom glistening with a ladylike sheen of sweat despite the coolness of the evening, since her body still glowed from the heat which had been generated by the dancing.
"Young Henry seems most taken with you. I've no doubt you'll shortly be seeing his card."
Chastity frowned. "Don't tease so. You know full well I have no intention of making a gift of my inheritance to the first eligible man to come along, nor the second. Father, and you dear aunt, have taught me better than that. I do not oppose the concept of marriage, but it is not the ultimate goal of my existence." She took the example of their young new Queen Victoria in refusing to be rushed into marriage, much to heart, and being independently wealthy, she had little fear of being seen as a hopeless spinster for many years to come.
Her chaperone, friend, and confidante, smiled fondly and stroked the back of Chastity's gloved hand with a fingertip. "Indeed we have."
Chastity felt a tingle run up her arm at the touch, and turned a ladylike pout towards her friend. "Don't tease me so Helene, you know that I am sorely ... frustrated as it is. If only .... "
"Now Chassie, we have discussed this before. While Parker may be willing to um, play with you, it would be .... "
"Yes, yes, I know. It would be unwise. Gossip, rumour, scandal, social disgrace, and so forth." Despite her tone, Chastity knew her friend was right. Parker, her maid, was as close to her as it was possible for a maid and her mistress to be, but there was always the looming and social wall between them that neither of them would dare to breach. A master might shag a chamber maid and then dismiss her for some contrived offence, thereby ridding himself of an embarrassment, but a lady's ... pleasures required a more intimate relationship than a few minutes bent over a table. If she were older and married, she might have been able to find feminine friends with similar tastes, but a young single heiress was under far too much scrutiny to take such risks. Besides, some of the things that she dreamt of doing to other women would require a degree of control or domination that only a procuress, a prison warden, the governor of a madhouse such as Bedlam, or one of the new style Workhouses, might wield. Hence her frustration. Then she smiled. There were still amusing ... things ... that she could do with Parker that didn't quite cross the line.
Helene saw the smile on her charge's face. She sighed and tapped Chastity on the knee with her folded fan. "All I can say is, be careful, ma cherie. If there was a scandal, it would ruin my reputation as well."
This seemed to startle the young heiress, who was well aware of Helene's true background. "Your ... reputation?" She covered her lips with her gloved fingers as she began to giggle.
Helene smiled, and then began to giggle as well.
The driver of the carriage shook his head at the faint sound of completely improper female laughter coming from inside of the vehicle. Chastity's father had been a good master, and he was totally devoted to Chastity, so he just smiled and spoke to his horses. "On with you boys! The mistress is in a rare mood tonight, so let's be getting her home as swiftly as possible."
* * * *
Parker skilfully dodged her mistress's slipper, which Chastity had playfully kicked off after she had dropped gratefully on her bed. "There are easier ways to rid yourself of me, miss," she said reproachfully, while suspiciously eyeing the slipper's twin which dangled from her mistress's toes.
"Why would I want to do that, Parker? Are you not a jewel beyond compare, a veritable paragon of maids?"
The maid sniffed as she knelt to take the dangling slipper. "I see you're in one of your moods, aren't you miss?"
"Nothing of the sort Parker," Chastity replied in tones of injured amazement. "I'm all hot and sticky from my ever so genteel exertions at the ball, and I would be rid of this dress so that I might wash myself down before going to bed ... with your assistance of course."
"Of course, miss." A tiny anticipatory smile lifted the corner's of Parker's lips. She was very fond of her mistress, and willingly went along with her little games. She often suspected that her mistress desired much more than either of them dared to voice, and in her heart of hearts, she admitted to herself that she would not have minded. Still, her duties as a lady's maid could be quite liberally interpreted. For instance, it was only normal for a dutiful maid to help her mistress undress -- as she was doing right now. Her fingers worked busily, unhooking the back of her mistress's gown. Employing the excuse of moving her mistress's hair away from the fastenings of the dress, she let her fingertips brush over her mistress's neck and shoulders, being very careful to make her touches seem accidental. It would be improper and absolutely unacceptable for it to seem that she was purposefully touching her mistress, even if that was exactly what she was doing and both of them knew it. Even a maid who was regularly shagged by her master would never dare to initiate a caress.
The soft, knowing touch of Parker's fingers on Chastity's skin made her tingle and feel even warmer, although she allowed no sign of this to be displayed in her words or actions, and masked any signs of arousal with impatient shiftings of her body. Her lips curved in smiling appreciation of her maid's deft and discreet touch. The last hook came free, and she felt the weight of the dress fall from around her hips. She took Parker's proffered hand as she stepped daintily out of the dress, clad only in her petticoats, stays, chemise, garters and stockings. Some women were choosing to wear the new fashioned knickers under their chemise, but Chastity enjoyed the feeling of being naked under her skirts, and the thought that someone could simply reach under them and touch her naked fanny made her shiver delightfully. She sometimes wondered if that would ever happen. In the mean time, Parker had removed the three layers of petticoats, and was helping her unhook the front of her stays so that she could get out of the stiff, tight, garment quickly. She knew the maid would undo the laces at the back later before she put the stays away. She uttered a sigh of relief when it came off, especially since the rigid front batten that prevented her from bending over had been inserted into the stays for the ball, to ensure that her belly was attractively smooth and flat under her gown.
Parker placed the discarded dress, petticoats, and stays on the bed for the moment so that she could assist her mistress in removing her perspiration damp chemise.
Ladies of a more modest disposition would have removed this final layer in private, but Chastity deliberately chose to allow Parker to see her completely unadorned. Since servants barely existed in the eyes of their betters, it was almost the same as being alone, or so she would say should anyone question her behaviour. Once the lace trimmed, plain white garment came off, she was completely and gloriously naked, save for her stockings and garters. She always looked forward to what came next with such anticipation that her heart fairly fluttered.
The maid was equally aware of the wicked delight her actions gave her mistress and played up to her as much as she dared. "Should I help you with your garters and stockings, miss?" she asked brightly but unnecessarily, since she knew quite well what her mistress's preferences were in this regard.
Chastity affected to consider this question seriously, then nodded. Rather than seating herself, she remained upright, her eyes following the maid's every move as the girl's starched skirt rustled when she lowered herself to kneel humbly on the carpet before her mistress like a supplicant before some oriental monarch. She felt a distinct wetness form at the juncture of her thighs.
Her face nearly level with her mistress's pubic curls, Parker passed one hand between her legs and the other around the outside of her thigh, as if to embrace her mistress's limb.
Because Chastity was standing with her legs barely apart, Parker's hand and forearm perforce slid over the smooth skin of her inner thighs. The maid's fingers tickled as they searched blindly over the back and side of her thigh for the buckle that fastened the garter, and Chastity felt the girl's breath dance across the front of her limb. This innocent teasing of her senses, and the closeness of her shamefully exposed fanny to the maid's face, aroused such an intense lasciviousness in Chastity's breast and loins that she nearly groaned aloud.
The garter came free, and Parker painstakingly worked the fine fabric of the stocking down her mistress's limb, a task that necessitated much stroking and touching from the top of the thigh all the way to her neat foot and pink, manicured toes. Neither woman acknowledged what was truly happening as Parker went on to the other garter and stocking.
Completely and unabashedly naked, Chastity went over to the large china basin on the sideboard that ran along one wall. The hot water that Parker had poured into it had cooled to a comfortable warmness, so she moistened a hand towel in it and wiped her face and neck with a sigh of comfort. When she uncovered her face, she was not surprised to see Parker standing at her elbow.
With a feigned casualness, she held the cloth out to the maid. "Give me a hand with this, Parker."
"Of course miss," she replied, her voice revealing nothing other than appropriate deference. Starting from her mistress's wrist, she proceeded to use the warm cloth on Chastity's arm, her armpit, her shoulders and so on until she arrived at the other wrist. She then rinsed the cloth, and went to work on her mistress's back.
Chastity remained completely impassive as her maid ran her hand over her entire body with outrageous intimacy. And yet, just as the veils of antiquity and art rendered the depiction of the naked human form decent, so the veil of the wash cloth excused the intimacy of Parker's touch.
When she had finished with the backs of her mistress's legs, she rinsed out the cloth again, and then came around to her front. With the cloth folded around her hand like a glove, she tenderly
towelled her mistress's throat and upper chest. Then she hesitated with her cloth encased hand an inch away from her mistress's breast. "With your permission, miss?"
Chastity was unable to suppress a slight lick of her lips before she nodded once more. "Go on." She caught her breath when the warm moist cloth touched her breast, but continued to act as though it was her boot that was being rubbed and polished, and not her breast and nipple. Nevertheless, she was unable to deny the powerful surge of pleasure that the maid's touch produced in her person. She smiled approvingly at the maid. "You have a delicate touch, Parker."
"Thank you, miss." Parker was acutely aware of her status as a servant. In addition, she was a good and decent girl, and still a virgin. She had never been kissed by a man other than on the top of her head by her father and the occasional uncle, and had never dreamed that she would be handling the body of another adult woman in this manner. Despite the forgoing, Parker could not help but feel aroused by the intimate manner in which she was handling her mistress's body, and she had initially spent many sleepless nights praying and thinking about the alarming feelings that her mistress's little games aroused within her bosom. However, she knew from the gossip of the other servants that many masters had wandering hands, and many a young servant girl had ended up on the street with a swollen belly, while her mistress was careful never to cross the line into true impropriety, so she gradually relaxed and allowed herself to enter into the spirit of her mistress's games and even to enjoy the thinly disguised naughtiness. In fact, she began to play a game of her own, which was to see to what degree she could arouse her mistress whilst still only appearing to do her duties. Her hands moved in light, circular motions over her mistress's breasts, as if polishing globes of smooth marble and not soft, feminine flesh. She had discovered from previous experience that the nipples were particularly receptive to this form of stimulation, and she ensured that her hands continually returned to run the wet cloth over the stiff, crinkled teats.
Chastity stifled a gasp and then smiled when she realised what the little minx was doing. She wished fervently that Parker was not a servant and that they could share and enjoy mutual caresses and perhaps other things on an equal basis. However, she knew herself well enough not to pretend that it was not Parker's subservient status that made the juices flow between her thighs and that she had no desire or need for a social equal in order to satisfy her sensual needs. What she wanted was greater domination and control. She fantasised often of being a ship's captain on a vessel "manned" with a wholly female crew and had visions of flogging a naked female sailor tied helplessly to the mainmast. She realised with a start that she had drifted into an erotic dream, and caught herself just before she began to writhe in reaction to the maddening rubbing of her nipples.
Deciding that she could not decently linger at her mistress's breasts for any longer, Parker continued down over her trim flat belly, narrow waist, and on to the curved feminine hips. Her wiping gradually narrowed and reduced the untouched areas of her mistress's body, until finally, there remained only the neat furred triangle and the space directly between her legs. Once again she looked up at her mistress's face.
Rather than to speak the words that would betray her desire, Chastity merely smiled and allowed one neat pink foot to slide to the side, creating a space between her lower limbs and giving Parker all the answer that she needed.
The maid responded with alacrity, commencing at the top of the furry triangle and working her way southwards towards those most intimate of regions that were guarded by the smooth columns of her mistress's thighs. She smoothed and stroked the curly hairs into a sleek fan-like pattern, and dabbed the cloth along the folds between the thighs and her loins. With the cloth spread flat across her palm, Parker inserted her hand boldly between her mistress's legs and pressed upwards to directly take hold of the plump purse of her mistress's sex. A mixture of conflicting emotions swirled through her being. Childhood teachings insisted what she did was obscene and filthy, while common sense said she was merely doing her job and what her mistress wanted. Most disturbing however, was the insistent voice in her mind that whispered the truth that she dared not even think aloud, which was that she found a powerful, irresistible, pleasure in her actions. The very wickedness of it made her fanny palpitate with feelings she could not even name.