Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (9 page)

With a sigh he collapsed on me, rocking back and forth until
his orgasm subsided. Only then did he slowly withdraw, my hole snapping back
into place as his shaft left me, an aching throb spreading through my bottom as
he rolled over to lie next to me. “I think I can untie your hands now,” he
whispered, fiddling with the bonds until my wrists came loose.

I threw my arms round him, feeling his leg slide over mine,
his softening cock against my thigh as he took me in his arms, holding me
against him. He kissed me for the first time then, my lips against his as I
stared into those smouldering dark eyes of his. “My lord,” I whispered between
embraces. “Thank you for coming in my arse.”

He smiled and lay back on the pillows, leaving me half
draped over him. “You’re welcome,” he muttered quietly. “Remember, no underwear
ever again.”

“Of course my lord,” I replied, kissing his cheek before
pressing my face to his chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed. As my eyes
closed I thought about where I was a day before, at home with my parents
without a care in the world. So much could change in a day, I mused, drifting
off to sleep whilst wondering just what tomorrow might bring.

Dress Me

Chapter
1

“Father, I want a new horse!”

Lauren looked at herself in the dressing table mirror. Too
angry an expression, she thought, too strident. He’d only grumble. She had to play
this just right. She tried again, this time with her eyes wider and her lip
downturned as if full of sorrow and regret.

“Father, I want a new horse.” Perfect. Time to try it out
for real.

Since she was old enough to talk, Laura had been used to
getting her own way, used to wrapping her father round her little finger. One
of her earliest memories was seeing the crushing disappointment in his eyes
when she’d unwrapped her Christmas presents and screamed solidly until she was
hoarse. “Where’s my pony?” she’d yelled over and over again.

“Your mother thinks you’re a little young. Four year olds
should not ride ponies.”

“I want a pony!” She’d stamped her feet and sobbed her heart
out, tugging at her hair until it came out in clumps. He’d given in of course,
overruling her mother and providing his daughter with a beautiful chestnut
steed. She’d learned a lot from that experience. One if you shouted and
screamed long and loud enough, you could get whatever you wanted, and two, her
father would do anything to please her.

Throughout her childhood, Laura had regularly used that
information to her advantage, ensuring that whatever she wanted was provided
and God help anyone who tried to change things.

Everything had changed though when she turned sixteen and her
mother died, spending the last of her days in her sickbed listening to Laura
whine and demand attention throughout. “She’s only sick, I need a partner for
tennis. Come and play with me papa.”

After the death, any reigns holding back her father vanished
and he spent the next two years lavishing ever more expensive gifts on her, as
if to make up for being a widower, all the while reminding her that her
inheritance would come to her once she married or reached twenty one.

“I have no intention of ever marrying,” she’d said, sliding
down the bannister to the ground floor, barely missing the butler as he
descended in a more adult manner. “Why can’t you just give me the money now?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” her father called from the
landing, leaning over the bannister towards her.

It was the only time screaming and tantruming hadn’t worked.
The money was locked away and nothing could be done. Only the icy cold banks of
England could refuse Laura and live to tell the tale.

In the end it was her father who remarried before she found
a groom, overcoming the death of his wife on the eve of Laura’s eighteenth
birthday. They’d held a ball in the largest room of the house, inviting the
cream of local society to join them. He’d spent the evening talking to some stupid
woman instead of tending to Laura and she was not happy about it.

Shortly afterwards he told her he was to remarry, wincing as
he said it, as if expecting her to explode.

“This is Maria Sanderson,” he said, bringing his fiancé into
the drawing room beside him. “I’m sure you’ll get along just famously.”

“I hate her!” Laura replied, sticking out her bottom lip and
storming between the two of them, running upstairs to her room. “I hate him!”
she screamed into her mirror. “I hate them both.”

Despite her best efforts the wedding took place. She refused
to attend, remaining at home and sobbing into her pillow. A week passed before
she deigned to speak to them, realising that she couldn’t keep up her protest
and ensure she got the new horse she wanted.

She looked into her mirror once more, sad face, sad face,
sad face. Let’s go.

She opened her bedroom door and walked downstairs, listening
for sounds of their presence. She could hear them in the dining room laughing
and joking as if they didn’t care at all how angry she was with them both.

“Father, I want a new horse,” she said as she walked in.

Maria turned to her. “We’ve been meaning to speak to you
Laura.”

Laura stuck her tongue out at the intruder before turning
back to her father. “I need a new horse,” she said. “Will you bring me one?”

“What’s wrong with Galileo?” he asked, setting down his
knife and fork.

“I want a new one!” she said, stamping her foot. “You’re my
father, you’re supposed to make me happy.”

Maria stood up. “Sit down a moment would you Laura?”

“I don’t take orders from sluts!”

“Laura!” her father snapped.

“Damn you both!” she yelled back, turning on her heels and
storming from the dining room. She stopped just outside, expecting her father
to run after her and apologise but he didn’t.

Frowning, she turned back as the pair began to talk quietly.
Leaning against the wall, she remained out of sight whilst still able to hear
every word they said.

“Now will you listen to me?” Maria asked. “This cannot be
allowed to continue.”

“But she’s still a child.”

“She is eighteen years old. That is old enough to stop these
childish temper tantrums and hissy fits.”

“I don’t know my love. I’ve never sent her away before. She
would be frightened I am sure of it.”

“It will do her good. The gentleman I suggest is an expert
in the education of whiny little brats such as her. In no time at all she will
be an asset to this family, not a drain upon it.”

What does she know about family? Laura thought. She’s
certainly not a part of this one.

“I suppose you may be right,” her father sighed. “But the
cost?”

“Is nothing compared to the amount you have lavished on her
up until now. Shall I telegram him or do you want to put up with her stamping
her feet and screaming for the next forty or fifty years?”

There was a scraping back of chairs and Laura tiptoed away,
her brow furrowed. What were they talking about? Was Maria trying to get her
sent away? The one thing she felt certain of was the security of knowing her
father would never allow it.

Chapter 2

Laura’s father stood in her bedroom doorway. “You’re being
sent away,” he said, taking a step backwards as a perfume bottle flew past his
head. “Please calm down dear.”

“Sent away!” she screamed. “Like a dog that bites its
master? Like a leper? Are you ashamed of me father, is that it?”

“No my angel,” he said, trying a smile. “It’s just Maria
feels…that is, we both feel that you might benefit from a finishing school
education of some sort.”

“So you are ashamed of me. This is all because you had to
marry that little whore of yours isn’t it?”

“Please do not call my wife a whore.”

“Whore, whore, whore.”

He turned away. “The decision is made. He will be here to
collect you tomorrow morning.”

Another perfume bottle flew after him, sending pungent scent
into the air as it smashed into a portrait of the 3
^rd
Viscount of
Cricklewood, her father’s great, great grandfather.

Laura spent the rest of the day thinking of a way to get
revenge. Walking out in the grounds she spotted one of the gardeners and an
idea formed in her mind. “If he married a whore, maybe he wants a whore for a
daughter, she thought, striding over to the gardener.

“Afternoon miss,” the man said, standing up and inclining
his cap.

“It’s Harry isn’t it?” she asked, stepping closer towards
him.

“That’s right miss.”

“Well Harry, I wondered if you might take a walk with me.
There’s a flower I found in the wood which I wish you to identify.”

“Very good miss.”

They made their way across the lawn and onto the mossy path
which led towards the copse of birch trees. Turning left at a fork, Laura led
the way towards a clearing. “Where’s the flower miss?” Harry asked, glancing
around him as she stopped.

“Oh you’ll see it in a minute,” she replied, stretching up
and planting a kiss on his lips.

“What are you doing?” he asked, pushing her away from him.
“You’ll get me in trouble with his lordship.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she replied, grabbing hold of
his arms and kissing him again. This time she pushed her tongue into his mouth,
surprised by how good it felt.

She’d never kissed anyone before but she’d read all about it
in countless books, practising in front of her mirror for years so she’d be
ready when the time came.

She thought of her father and Maria’s face when they found
out she’d kissed a gardener. The disgust in their eyes.

Her thoughts were brought back to what was happening as
Harry slid his arms around her, holding her body against his.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Unhand me at once.”

“Not yet,” he replied, pressing his lips to hers. As his
tongue plunged deep into her mouth, she felt him stiffen against her, digging
into her stomach through his trousers.

She hadn’t planned to go any further but feeling that heat
against her made her woozy, desire taking over her thoughts. She moved her
hands between their bodies and squeezed his shaft through his trousers,
enjoying the spongy firmness of it as he sighed into her mouth.

“What’s it look like?” she asked. “Can I see?”

Sinking to her knees, she stared at his crotch as he
unbuttoned his flies and reached inside, pulling out his erect cock. “There you
go,” he said. “What do you think?”

“Can I taste it?”

“Aye, that you can miss.”

She took hold of his shaft in both hands, stroking up and
down the length of him as she brought her lips to the bulbous head. I’d never
be able to fit something like that inside me, she thought, picturing her pussy
refusing to let it inside. It’s too big. How can anyone possibly have sex?

She took him into her mouth, running her tongue over the
length of him, circling the head, tracing lines of the ridges of his veins,
drawing him as deep into the back of her throat as she could manage.

“You’re a natural cock sucker,” Harry said and Laura felt a
burst of pride. I’m a natural, she thought. Wait until I tell Father and Maria
how good I am at sucking cock.

He gripped her head in place and began to thrust faster into
her mouth, letting out a groan. “I’m going to come in your mouth,” he said.
“You want to taste it don’t you?”

She nodded as best she could, feeling his shaft twitch
suddenly, hitting the roof of her mouth before landing on her tongue. There was
another spasm and then a spurt of wet warmth gushed from the end of it, hitting
the back of her throat.

She couldn’t swallow with him still between her lips, all
she could do was wait as he shot out a second load of cum before slowly moving
to the edge of her mouth. She licked the last drops from him, running her
tongue over him before swallowing quickly.

Standing up, she grinned at him. “Did I do it right?”

“Aye lass, that you did.”

“Wonderful!” she said, clapping her hands and jumping for
joy. “I’m a good cock sucker aren’t I?”

Harry smiled and ruffled her hair. “You’re a natural miss
but where’s this flower you wanted me to see?”

“Oh, right here,” she said, lifting her dress and pulling
her knickers aside. She let him stare for a moment at her soaking wet pussy
whilst she let out a giggle. A second later she dropped her dress back into
place and skipped her way out of the woods back towards the house, the taste of
his cum still in the back of her throat.

She was disappointed to find Father and Maria had gone out
for the afternoon, leaving her forced to hold in her revelation until they
returned. She dined alone that evening and by nightfall they still hadn’t
returned. Eventually Laura climbed into bed, her pussy tingling at the thought
of what she’d done that day. Not only that but she felt strangely excited about
telling Maria and her Father about it in the morning, picturing their shocked
and disgusted faces as she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Chapter 3

The next morning Laura awoke to find a strange man towering
over her bed. “Awake at last,” he growled. “Come on. The coach is waiting.”

“Who are you?” Laura asked, blinking the sleep from her
eyes.

“Your new tutor.”

He reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her from the
bed. “You should wear this,” he said, tossing a nappy towards her. “It is a
long journey and we will not be making stops.”

“How dare you sir? I am not an infant.”

“That’s not what I hear from your father. Will you put that
thing on or not?”

“I will not!”

“Very well.” He threw her back onto the bed, lifting her
nightdress to her waist. “I’ll do it myself.”

Laura protested vehemently. “Let go of me this instant!”

“Stop wriggling or it’ll be the worse for you.” He held her
shoulders down with one arm and she was surprised by his strength. She felt no
shame at her pussy being exposed in this way, only rage that he dared enter her
room and treat her so callously. With his free hand, he shoved the length of
cloth under her bottom, pulling either corner together and finally letting go
of her. Before she could sit up he had it tied in place and only then did he stand
back and smile at her raging face.

She went to rip it away and he snarled at her. “I warn you
not to cross me young lady. A smacked bottom will ensue.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she replied, tossing the nappy towards
his face.

He batted it aside and grabbed her, sitting on the edge of
the bed and bending her over his knee, exposing the pert roundness of her
buttocks as he drew back his hand. Whipping downwards, he landed a blow on her
bottom, the smacking sound echoing round the room.

“Ow!” she cried. “Unhand me at once.”

“I gave you fair warning,” he replied, spanking her again.
“You will learn soon enough you little brat.”

His hand descended at speed again and again until her bottom
stung painfully. When he finally let her go, she leapt to her feet and glared
at him. “My father shall hear of this,” she said, taking a step towards the
door.

He blocked her passage, tossing her back onto the bed and
again tying the nappy in place. “I warn you to leave that in place,” he said as
her hands went to the knots once more. Still feeling the sting in her bottom,
she moved her hands away, quivering as he towered over her.

“That’s better,” he said, a flicker of a smile crossing his
lips. “Good girl. Now get dressed.”

“With you in the room? I think not.”

“Very well.”

Holding her wrist in an insanely firm grip, he yanked open
the wardrobe and pulled out the first dress he found, a light summer frock that
she had not worn for years. Ignoring her wriggling protest, he got the
nightdress off her shoulders, replacing it with the dress, seemingly
indifferent to the sight of her naked body.

“We are leaving,” he said, dragging her from the room.

“You might be but I am staying here,” she replied, digging
her heels into the carpet. “Father!” she yelled but there was no reply.

“This is the way it must be,” the man said, thumping his way
downstairs with her in tow. The front door was open and he half carried her
out, tossing her into the waiting carriage before climbing in beside her.
“Drive on!” he shouted and the wheels began to turn.

“You’re kidnapping me!” she yelled. “I’ll see you hang at
the Assizes for this.”

“I have the consent of your father. This is not kidnapping.
This is the commencement of your education. You shall not return here until you
are a lady.”

“I am a lady!”

“You are a whining, snivelling brat who needs to learn many
a lesson but do not fear, I shall teach you all you require soon enough. Now
you will sit there in silence and I shall read and if there is so much as a
peep out of you, another smacked bottom will be the result. Am I understood?”

She scowled at him as he leaned towards her, lowering his
voice. “When I ask a question, you reply yes sir. Am I understood?”

“You’re insane.”

He grabbed hold of her, tossing her over his lap and lifting
her dress and yanking down the nappy to expose her bottom once more. He began
to spank her, the blows landing equally on each cheek until she cried out for
him to stop. He counted ten smacks before sitting her up once more. “Am I
understood?”

Laura felt heat spreading into her body from her bottom as
she sat gingerly back on her seat. “Yes sir,” she said quietly, wondering how
soon she could escape back home.

“That’s better,” he replied. “Now silence.”

Laura sat in her place, her heart pounding, glancing across
at him as he pulled out a book and began to read. He was tall, stout but not
fat, his strength already proven. There were strong muscles hidden under his
greatcoat and his face was as stern and dead as a statue.

As time passed, she became increasingly restless but each time
she attempted to shift in her seat, he glared at her, his eyes flashing a
silent warning.

The only way she could keep track of the hours was by the
changing light. By the time the sun began to set she found herself needing the
toilet. She shuffled in her seat again, sitting on her hands and squeezing her
bare toes together. “Sit still,” he warned.

“I need us to stop for a moment.”

“Whatever for?”

“I…I need the bathroom.”

“No toilets out here for many a mile. You are wearing a
nappy are you not? Let it serve its purpose until you can learn to control your
bladder as you will soon learn to control your temper.”

“I must protest.”

“Protest all you like. It will make no difference.”

He returned to his book. The sun dipped below the horizon as
her desire to pee grew stronger. She lasted another hour, refusing to give in
to his suggested method of relief, the thought of it shameful enough beside
everything else that had happened. She winced as they bounced through one
pothole after another, her body in agony, fluid sloshing around inside her.

Moving her thighs together, she squeezed the muscles in her
legs, her desperation growing impossible to control. As they jolted through
another rut in the road she gasped, a few drops of urine leaking into her
nappy. She fought to prevent anymore from escaping and managed for a few
minutes, biting her lip and wishing not for the first time that she were still
at home.

Another jolt and another leak, this one stronger. She could
feel the wet warmth soaking into the towelling fabric, the nerve endings in the
skin around her pussy becoming super sensitive to the change in temperature.

Shuffling her legs ever faster, her breathing became ragged
as the man again insisted she keep still.

“I must pee!” she whined.

“Have you not gone yet?” he snapped. “Get it over with and
you’ll soon feel fine.”

“I cannot.”

“Well it will be an interesting night’s journey for you
then.”

With that, he set the book aside, unable to see now the
light had died. He lit a candle and set it inside the lantern swinging from the
ceiling. In the shifting glow of its light, Laura could see him lean against
the wall, his eyes closing.

At least with him asleep, she was able to wriggle on her
seat as much as she liked, cramming her hand between her legs to gain some
sense of relief. The nappy felt so bulky compared to her usual underwear it was
hard to press enough to reach her pussy but she managed it, grinding her hand
into place and clamping her thighs over the top.

The coach rolled ever onwards and Laura plumbed new depths
of agony, the like of which she’d never felt before. “I cannot last,” she said
out loud but the man did not stir.

Perhaps if I sleep, she thought to herself, twisting so her
head leaned against the wall of the carriage. Closing her eyes, she did her
best to distract herself from the pain in her bladder, thinking of home and the
amount of gifts she would demand of her father to make up for this despicable
treatment.

With a jolt she suddenly sat upright. Did I sleep? She
wondered to herself, the first gleams of morning light shining through the
window. As she sat up her bladder screamed at her for release. To her left the
man still slept and the sight of him infuriated her. How dare he do this to
her?

She shuffled on the spot, hoping they would reach their
destination before she had an accident. It wasn’t to be. The coach rumbled over
rougher ground and more and more drops leaked from her. At last she could hold
it in no more, her body in agony. Even with her hand clamped between her legs
she couldn’t stop the dripping becoming a trickle and then the trickle becoming
a flood.

Urine gushed out of her, soaking the cloth and even
overflowing, the wet warmth hitting her hand as excess pee ran down her thighs
to pool at her feet. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as her body
finally gained the relief it needed, even as shame took over her mind at the
thought of wetting herself in public for the first time in many years.

As the last of her pee hissed from her, she spread her legs
apart, trying to avoid the feel of wet cloth on her skin as much as possible.
Beside her the man stirred as the coach slowed to a halt.

“We’re here,” the man said, yawning and getting to his feet.
“Welcome to your new home.”