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London Nights and Other Erotica
by Emy Naso

Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica
Description: Very Sexy Takes on the Classics! A Dickens of an erotic anthology revisioning four classic tales as only the unique mind of Emy Naso could conceive. Bondage, bisexuality, romance and more fill these sex charged tales. Check out Great Balls of Desire a naughty version of Cinderella that's bawdy and hilarious with a fairy godmother from hell. Naso's sexual version of Oliver Twist explores the sensuality and streets of Victorian London. Then Emy turns to Tomasina Jones, a modern female, seeking and serving every hot-breathing male she meets in her journey of self-discovery. Finally comes a tale of the legendary King Theseus, turning up in the mountains of Wales, where he finds time to dally with a charming a young lady of show-stopping endowments.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: July 2008

eBookeBook

1 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [328 KB]
Words: 67313
Reading time: 192-269 min.


CHAPTER 1

THINGS AIN'T WHAT THEY USED TO BE

Times were hard. Sutra wished the men in her life were even harder. Not just in her life, but in her. It had been so different during the war. London had been awash with foreign soldiers. Those gorgeous Americans who always seemed to have so much to lavish on a girl. But now they'd all gone home. The euphoria of victory had been replaced with austerity. 1947 wasn't a good year to be twenty-eight and a nymphomaniac--and with a competing twin sister.

Sutra looked over her shoulder in the mirror and checked to make sure the seams were straight on her stockings. These had been a gift from Captain Nigel Davenport. He'd been out of the navy for two years but still used the title. Last night, he'd shown Sutra his ability with tying knots. The bondage session was the reason she'd got the present of the stockings. A girl--even a daughter of a minor baronet--had to work hard for the luxuries in life.

She admired her golden hair. It was another expensive fancy. Her natural color was light brown. The idea of blonde came out of the movies, and the shade came out of a bottle.

"Sutra, have you got my mascara?" The question came from a very similar woman. Her twin, Kama, stood, poised at the door. She adopted a movie-star posture. They certainly looked liked twins, except Kama favored her hair in an auburn color.

"Wouldn't touch that brand," Sutra pouted. "Where did you get it, Woolworth?"

"At least I pay for my extravagances," Kama huffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kama pointed at the new stockings. "Bet you didn't buy them?"

"Oh, yes I did, honey. Just didn't pay standing up."

"Not that Captain Davenport?" Kama said disapprovingly, and shook her head.

"What's wrong with him?"

"With his droopy mustache, it must be like getting kissed by a walrus." Kama scoffed.

"Wouldn't know," Sutra said and gave her sister a wicked look. "Where he had his mouth last night, I reckon he was a submarine man. Certainly spent most of the evening diving down."

Their cackling laughter filled the lounge with innuendos to spare. With their ribald remarks cutting the air, Kama rang the bell for the servants. After five years of war, Britain and its people were on their financial knees. That included families like the Winklers. The twins' father was a widower, who up till the outbreak of hostilities had run a lucrative, if shady, business in car dealerships. With nearly everything on rations and no spare money for gasoline, his trading was rocky. His bank balance had gone into the red and Sutra and Kama were spending money he didn't have. Apart from Freddy Zipper, they had no servants.

Freddy had been their chauffeur before the war. Now he stayed on as a jack-of-all-trades, on a salary paid intermittently.

Down in the basement area, Zipper heard the ringing and could tell the callers were in the lounge as the row of bells on the wall were labeled to signal where the demand was coming from.

There was another servant with him. Well, she wasn't an actual domestic. The twenty-eight year old twins not only had a baronet as a father, but their late mother was a minor royal, being second cousin to an aunt, who maintained she was related to King George VI. The young woman of twenty-one who sat in the kitchen with Zipper was Sir Lionel's daughter, but her mother had been a maid and had given in to the master's advances one foggy night. The maid left in disgrace--but nine months later, left a bundle on the doorstep of the Winkler house. It wasn't the washing, but a wrinkle-nosed, giggling baby.

The twin's half-sister, Cindy-Lou, was a gorgeous, dark-skinned, raven-haired lady, who would have sent the males of the district wild--if she'd been allowed out. Although Sir Lionel tried to intervene, Sutra and Kama used her like a pair of skivvies.

"I'll go," Cindy-Lou smiled at Zipper, who she knew found the long haul up the stairs painful due to a wound he'd sustained in the war. As a humble private, no one cheered when he returned home, and he was only fit to resume his duties as a low-paid lackey in the Winkler household.

The young lady skipped up the stairs to the main hall, then ran up the next flight to the lounge. Going into the room, she was about to greet her half-sisters. Sutra cut her off.

"Have you got everything ready for our party at the Frobisher's tonight, Cindy-Lou?" That meant all their dresses ironed and their shoes polished. The young woman nodded.

"And we're expecting two visitors this afternoon," Kama put in. "Don't keep them waiting at the front door. Bring them up to the drawing room." Cindy-Lou smiled. She knew what type of guests. A couple of her sisters' male pick-ups for an afternoon session.

"Did the Frobishers say we could all come?" Cindy-Lou asked quietly. The truth was Gerald Frobisher had said Cindy-Lou would be very welcome. The sisters weren't having that.

"Why would they ask you?" Sutra said snootily. "Remind me, Cindy-Lou, who was your mother?" It was a catty remark making direct reference to her half-sister's humble origins. Her mother being a servant was bad enough, but she was a colonial, for God's sake--even if the British were about to give them independence! Where was it? India?

* * * *

Cindy-Lou shook her head. The household had five ration books issued by the government, one for each adult in the residence. Most foodstuffs and all luxuries were subject to these rations. Even candy bars. She never got to taste the pure heaven of chocolate. Sutra and Kama used up their own rations and everyone else's.

"Dreaming again?" The consoling voice of Freddie Zipper pierced her thoughts. He limped across the kitchen and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Just thinking about the party this evening at the Frobishers. I wish I could go," she sighed.

"Don't worry, dear Cindy-Lou, the outside world isn't so grand. I marched through most of Italy, but I still prefer home." She knew he meant it as consolation. It wasn't the same. He'd been in the war and had a medal for the battle at Monte Casino. All she wanted to do was get out of this oppressive atmosphere and see life.

A knocking at the front door interrupted all these thoughts. Zipper held his hand firmly on Cindy-Lou's shoulder as she moved to get up.

"Stay there, my princess. It'll only be the ugly sisters' men friends," he grinned. "I'll go and let them in."

As he left the kitchen, Cindy-Lou chuckled at Zipper's often-repeated joke. Her half-sisters were far from ugly of face--it was Freddie's amusing description because he said they had ugly souls. She leaned over the table and turned on the radio. Another weather bulletin. It was the coldest and most severe winter on record. Deep snow piled up outside and what with the post-war shortages, life was hard. Coal was now in short supply and what stocks the Winkler household had were used in the lounge and Sutra's and Kama's bedrooms.

"I've let them in." Zipper came back.

"Who was it?" Cindy-Lou asked.

Zipper looked hesitantly at the woman. His fingers fiddled over the Bakelite radio, turning the sound down low. He sipped from his teacup, trying to avoid answering. It was protection ... but she was aware what went on with her sisters and their men friends. Even if her imagination couldn't fully comprehend the reality.

* * * *

At the top of the Winkler house, Lord Gresham stood with his back to the roaring fire. His companion, Sir Ralph Luton, rubbed his hands. It wasn't just to get the cold out of his fingers. He anticipated the special delights awaiting him, so graphically described by his friend, Lord Gresham, who had persuaded him to come along and join in the fun.

The room was large. It had once been a series of servant's rooms when the house had been built in the fashionable suburb of Highgate in North London. That was back in late Victorian times. Now, alterations had converted it into one big room, which the sisters used as they own special place of entertainment.

"A drink for you, Alexander?" Sutra smooched Lord Gresham. She had entertained him before and was on intimate terms--in every sense.

"My usual pink gin, please, my dear," he replied with a broad grin. He lifted a large package he'd brought with him and gave it to Sutra. She eagerly unwrapped the parcel and the bottles clinked. Brandy, gin and rum. In these austere times, they were like priceless nectar. Lord Gresham gave Sutra's rear a playful, but knowing pat. She put the bottles on the sideboard, not caring how he acquired the alcohol. In previous conversations with her sister, they'd speculated that as a lord who sat in the upper houses of parliament as a Peer of the Realm, he'd got them through the bar staff. They were almost certainly illegally gained.

"Well, this is cozy," Lord Gresham said as Sutra brought him his gin. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down on his knee.

"I've told Ralph here a lot about your afternoon sessions, so don't disappoint me, you hear?" he growled and nuzzled her neck.

Kama sidled closer to Sir Ralph Luton as he stood slightly self-consciously by the window.

"So what is your interest?" she asked with a voice that said innocence and a face which spoke loudly of hidden sensual delight.

"Our Ralph was brought up in a very strict home," Lord Gresham chimed in. "He loves to be punished."

"And you, Alexander, what is your pleasure today?" Sutra asked and ran her hand over his thigh.

"I'll let Ralph have both your attentions to begin with. I'll just watch the show." Lord Gresham reciprocated Sutra's hand exploration with his own seeking fingers up her dress.

"Just going to be a spectator for the moment, my sweetie Alexander?" Sutra pouted in mock disappointment.

"Well, there is something special I've been thinking about," he smiled, "But I'll leave that till later ... after you and your wicked sister have fully chastised young Ralph."

Sutra got up from Alexander's knee and went over to Sir Ralph and her sister. She immediately kissed him gently, slowly and held the embrace as her index finger traced the line of his jaw, slid over his neck, felt the heave of his chest, and finally tiptoed like a praying mantis over the bulge at his crotch.

"I hope you can contain that excitement, big boy," she purred, "As you've only just got here, we don't want you coming too soon."

"Do you like to be dominated?" Kama whispered in his ear as her sister went on manipulating his hardness through his corduroy trousers.

"I need to be forced," he gulped.

Sutra and Kama moved away, walking in a measured way to one side of the room where the bay window looked down on the busy Archway Road. To the south was the stark and gray building which had once been a lunatic asylum, but when society decided locking people up and punishing them for a mental illness didn't work, it became a hospital. Its grim, smoke-stained walls contrasted with the pristine snow.

Hardly any traffic went up or down the road. Private cars were still a rare commodity. The trolley bus struggled up the steep incline of Archway Road and its overhead connections flashed and sizzled on the cables. Pedestrians trudged through the bleak weather, women carrying heavy shopping and trying to control their children, who were the only ones to see joy in the white precipitation which had now blanketed the country for two months.

Had they looked up at the four story Victorian mansion, they would have been shocked that the two pretty females standing at the window planned sin and debauchery.

Sutra spoke softly to her sister, Kama's eyes glowed with the tension and expectation of possession of this man. She felt bitter with life. Sir Ralph was going to feel the anger she harbored on how fate had treated her. Kama felt it was her right to have the best. If she'd been born a generation earlier, wealth and privilege would have been hers. Now this war had robbed her of the finer things in life. She wanted revenge.

They glided over to Sir Ralph. Sutra held his handsome face cupped in her hands.

"We have decided how to punish you, Ralph," she breathed the words hotly into his face. "But there is a price."

"Alexander told me there would be," he choked the reply, conscious of the nearness of the two sisters.

"What will it be?" he gulped as Kama now appeared by her sister's side, eyes glowing with molten sadism.

"Your dignity first ... then we'll have to see." She laughed mellifluously. He'd never heard so much expression of sensuality in a wicked cackle.

As Sutra continued to burn her face into Ralph's countenance, Kama strolled languidly to a cupboard, opened it and brought out rope and chains.

"Make yourself useful, dear Alexander, and push that wooden table into the center of the room away from the window. We don't want the whole of passing Highgate looking up and viewing the depravity of Sir Ralph, do we?"

When it was in position, the sisters sat on its edge and with insolent eyes looked at Ralph.

"Well, young man, the first thing we need to do is inspect your suitability for the tasks we have for you," Sutra said more to her sister than the isolated baronet.

"You heard my sister, Ralph," Kama turned on him in a severe voice. "Undress and throw your clothes over to us."

Sir Ralph started to undress. Tie, shirt, socks and shoes. Then his pants.

"Don't stop," Sutra shrugged as if she no longer had any interest in him. He slid down his shorts, shyly threw them on the growing pile of clothes and lowered his eyes. It was the only thing to be lowered. His erection stood out. His cock was thick and Kama secretly admired the girth, even though her face showed nothing except the merest curling at the corner of her mouth. She stood up from the table and walked behind Ralph.

With a sudden panther movement, she grabbed his arms and pulled them back, immediately clapping handcuffs on his wrists. As she walked back in front of him, she slapped his ass.

Sutra went over to the pile of clothes and started to search through the pockets. She held up a gold watch and chain, taken from his vest. Casually, she tossed it to her sister. Kama caught it and turned to Ralph.

"Seems like we have found payment for our services, Ralph."

"That's a family heirloom," he muttered in mild protest. Kama smirked, approached closer and hung the watch by the chain over his stiff cock. She looked over her shoulder at Sutra.

"I've heard of having time on your hands ... but never on your cock." The sisters raucously laughed. Lord Gresham joined in the joke.

Kama took the watch away, letting her hand dwell over the hardness of his shaft. Then without warning, she grabbed his hair and dragged him forward, pushing his head down so he was forced onto the table. Instantaneously, Sutra took rope and bound his head face down. Then she further secured him by winding more rope around his waist and up and over the table.

Barely able to lift his head and look forward, he saw the sisters standing, gloating. Like a well-rehearsed act, they undid the buttons down the front of their dresses, and let them slip to the floor. For the first time, and he didn't know why his attention strayed there, Sir Ralph noticed the cheap square patterned linoleum floor covering. As his gaze remained down, the sisters' petticoats followed their dresses.

Ralph looked up. They stood in stockings, garter belts and bras. Their stance was confident, aggressive and sexually menacing. Sutra came to him. She climbed up on the table and sat straddled over his neck.

He was aware of the silk of her panties. He couldn't turn his head enough to see her but knew she was pushing her panties down enough to show the top of her pubic triangle. Her fingers slipped inside her panties and he heard the moan of her passion and the moist gliding of a finger in her own sex.

"When you were at home, Ralph, who punished you?" Kama asked in silky tones.

"What do you mean?" he struggled to answer, still tuned in to Sutra's self massage.

"Was it your nanny, your mother, or perhaps you had fantasies about someone else?" Kama continued. "Answer truthfully, now."

Sir Ralph found it difficult to think with Sutra sitting on him, her moaning slithering into ecstatic dreams. Then an image came to him.

"Sophie," he murmured.

"Who was she?" Kama demanded.

"A kitchen maid."

Kama grinned and went back to the cupboard. She took something out and walked back in front of Ralph, her hands behind her back.

"Did your imagination wonder if she would spank you with this?" she smirked, and produced a huge wooden mixing spoon. Sir Ralph just stared as Kama pushed the spoon into her panties and moved it about in a suggestive way.

Sauntering with more evocative movements, Kama went behind the prone Ralph. At the same time, Sutra turned around, so she now crouched on the small of his back. Her hand slipped under his body and felt the stiffness of his cock.

Without warning, Kama whacked Sir Ralph across his naked ass with her wooden spoon. Six times with rapid strokes she sought to inflict the punishment he desired. Through screams of sensual delight, he panted in excitement.

Then there was silence. He lay exhausted. An object jabbed tentatively at his ass. He felt the handle of the wooden spoon. Kama was pushing it into his rear. He tried to resist.

"I thought all your upper middle classes went in for a bit of buggery," Kama taunted. Sir Ralph clenched his teeth and waited for her to penetrate him. Instead, she moved the spoon away. Pushing her body back against his ass, he knew she had removed her panties. He felt the soft down of her pubic hair pressing, caressing his naked rear. Her hands went under his thighs and massaged him.

As Kama gyrated her body against him, her fingers worked speedily and increasingly fast. It only took her a few minutes to make him heave with lust as his cock violently twitched and shot its desire.

He felt his ropes being untied, then the handcuffs released. Sheepishly, he stood up, the moisture of his eruption very visible on the scrubbed pine table. Sutra scornfully threw him his clothes. He dressed and sat on an upright chair by the window.

Kama went over to Lord Gresham. She still hadn't put her panties back on. His hand explored up her inner thigh and into the nub of her sex.

"And now you have witnessed Sir Ralph's humiliation, my darling Alexander, are you going to end your afternoon with your finger in my wet wonder, or..." She let the question hang.

"There is something I would pay a high price for," he said casually.

"And that would be?" Kama asked.

"That young woman who sometimes answers the door."

Kama moved out of his reach, went over and picked up her panties from the floor. Lord Gresham watched her all the way. He liked studying her as she bent over.

"You want that little mixed race half-sister of ours?" Sutra huffed.

"Could be fun," Lord Gresham said with a lascivious twist to his smile. "Invite her up and we'll get her drunk," he said with a wicked incline of his noble head.

"She doesn't drink," Kama put in.

"Even better. Pure innocence. Offer her a spiked soft drink," Lord Gresham said and his tongue licked over his lips.

"Might be interesting to see the little prude get shafted," Kama nodded to Sutra.

* * * *

"Come in, Cindy-Lou," Sutra enthused as her half-sister hovered at the door. As soon as she walked in, Lord Gresham and Sir Ralph couldn't take their eyes off her. It was this effect she had on men--when allowed to get near them--that made her sisters hate her.

"Do you want tea and cake? I think we've got one I made yesterday. But the shop..." Cindy-Lou stopped. The way the two men were looking at her made her feel uncomfortable.

"Don't fuss, Cindy-Lou. And don't stand there, close the door. We just wanted you to come up here and enjoy yourself."

Cindy-Lou tried to smile at Kama, but she didn't believe her. Why, all of a sudden, did they care about her?

"A drink, my dear?" Lord Gresham asked and reached out with a glass.

"Sorry, sir, I don't drink," she smiled gently.

"It's only lemonade," he said with an expression full of innocence.

She hesitated, then thought it rude to refuse, so took the cup. As she sipped the liquid, four pair of eyes watched, each with its own image of what might follow.

"Another drink?" Lord Gresham didn't wait for Cindy-Lou's reply, pouring liquid into her glass and bringing it to the brim. The beautiful half-sister staggered a little. Sir Ralph was instantly on hand to help her sit down on the worn sofa. He liked the soft skin of her arm, and drooled over the perfect swell of her breasts under the plain blue and white striped dress.

She sat down and let her head relax against the antimacassar. Her gorgeous legs stretched forward. Lord Gresham felt a rapid stirring in his loins. This exquisite woman didn't wear stockings. Too expensive for semi-servants--but she didn't need them. Such finger tingling legs, he thought, and let his imagination wander farther up to those thighs and the warm virtuousness of her sex.

"You look a little flushed, Cindy-Lou," Kama said, pretending concern as she sat on the arm of the sofa.

"It's strange, I'm so hot ... and my head is going around," Cindy-Lou muttered, as she fought to comprehend what was happening.

"My dear sister," Sutra said, snuggling next to Cindy-Lou and putting her palm on her half-sister's forehead, "You're like an oven. Stand up and let's take this dress off."

Although reluctant, Cindy-Lou complied and let Sutra and Kama help her to her feet. The buttons at the back of the dress were rapidly undone and the blue and white garment slid to the floor.

The two men watched, transfixed and in sexual heaven. The sisters were not unaware of the male reaction and their pleasure at corrupting Cindy-Lou was tinged with envy that her body should send these admirers into such rapturous expressions.

Cindy-Lou stood unsteadily, her raven hair flowing down to her waist, skin the lightest brown, jet colored eyes and a figure to raise a thousand erection salute. Her simple white panties and bra gave an added innocence to her poise.

Lord Gresham came up to the three women, pouring more drink in Cindy-Lou's glass.

"Well, Alexander?" Sutra pouted in triumph. "What is this pretty present worth? It'll have to be something special if you're to unwrap it and have your wicked way with the girl."

Lord Gresham took out a black leather wallet with the family crest in gold. He held up a white, new five pound note. To the common person, that was more than a week's wages. He then added another note. Ten pounds. He salivated at the thought of the woman and the 'ugly' sisters salivated thinking about how they would spend the money.

"Am I included in this?" Sir Ralph asked.

"Do you want Cindy-Lou as well?" Sutra asked as she turned to look at him. "We know Alexander wants to shag the wench. What is your predilection, Sir Ralph?"

Lord Gresham burst out laughing. "My friend, Ralph, has an anal fixation. I'll wager after you've caned his ass, he'll want to stick his cock in the rear of this beauty." Still guffawing, he added another five pound note and kissed Kama.

"That should buy us both time with your half-sister. Are you two ladies staying to watch the fun?"

Sutra looked at Kama. Their thoughts were the same. Hating Cindy-Lou for the lust she inspired in these men, yet experiencing spite to be present when she was defiled and used.

Sutra pushed the swaying Cindy-Lou toward Lord Gresham. "She's all yours, my Lord."

The ignoble lord picked up Cindy-Lou and dumped her unceremoniously on the sofa. He sat beside her and let his hands wander over her neck and to the edge of her bra, breathing heavily as he felt the warmth and roundness of her breasts.

"I trust you sisters are not in a hurry. This is not something to be rushed. Fucking such a beautiful creature is to be savored." As Lord Gresham spoke, his eyes never left admiring Cindy-Lou's body. His head went down, caressing her neck, letting his tongue taste the sweetness of her skin. Even in her deep alcoholic haze, she started to struggle. Her seducer took her wrists and pinned her arms down and over her head, at the same time, sliding his body on top of hers.

The door burst open. Zipper stood there.

"What the hell do you want? Get out of here," Kama flew at him. He didn't move.

"Sir Lionel is ringing for his tea ... and insisting Miss Cindy-Lou take it up to him."

There was silence. Lord Gresham got up. Sutra glowered at Zipper, then went to Cindy-Lou with the blue and white dress, pulled it on and helped the girl toward Zipper.

"The little minx has been drinking." She practically spat the words. Freddie Zipper didn't answer but gave her a look that left no doubt he didn't believe a word she'd said. With great care and love, he helped Cindy-Lou down the stairs to the kitchens, made up a bed on the couch in the corner and let her sleep for the rest of the day.

* * * *

Sir Lionel Winkler put his head around the kitchen door.

"Is Cindy-Lou feeling better?"

Zipper gave him an indulgent smile. "See for yourself, she's sitting up and eating a boiled egg." Her father walked quickly over to see his daughter, looking over his shoulder to make sure Sutra and Kama weren't behind. Luckily, they'd stayed in the hall, waiting for him as the taxi to take them to the Frobishers' party had arrived.

Zipper hadn't told Sir Lionel how his youngest daughter came to be feeling unwell. He knew the old man loved her, but wished he'd stand up to the two dragons--Sutra and Kama.

"That's good you're eating an egg, my dear," Sir Lionel said soothingly, and tried to hide his feelings inside. He hoped the egg wasn't the last one in the house. If they had to wait till Monday to get more supplies on their ration books and Sutra went without her Sunday morning egg, there'd be hell to pay.

He dearly loved Cindy-Lou but his late wife, naturally, took against the girl when the little bundle was dumped on their doorstep, and every day the pretty thing grew bigger, reminding Lady Winkler of her husband's lust for that maid. It was a social disgrace she never forgave, right up to her death bed scene with Sir Lionel, when she made him promise to favor the union of their legal marriage, not the outcome of a fuck with the servants. He agreed and vowed it was just the once with the maid. He kept his fingers crossed behind his back and said a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness. It would have been cruel to tell his wife about all the other occasions ... in the linen cupboard, over the kitchen table, on the back seat of the Daimler car, in a hotel room in Brighton, ad fucking infinitum.

"See you later, sweetie." Sir Lionel kissed Cindy-Lou, left the kitchen and went up to the hall.

"Father, we've been waiting for you for ages," Sutra said, tapping her foot in an annoyed and petulant manner.

"We really mustn't be late for the Frobishers' party, Father," Kama added with a batting of her false eyelashes.

They swept out of the house and into the waiting taxi. Zipper looked up from the basement area and saw them leave. He turned and smiled kindly at Cindy-Lou. She wiped away a tear and sighed, "Oh, Freddie, why can't I go to the ball?"


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