Sinful Seduction (21 page)

‘Got ter get yer hair washed as well, ain'tcher?' chuckled Millie. ‘Now stop being such a big baby and let me get on with it.' Maggie winced as the other girl scrubbed her head with cheerful vigour, poured clean water over her, then started the whole process all over again.

‘Ouch!' she complained at a particularly painful point in the proceedings. ‘You're supposed to be washing it - not pulling it out by the roots.'

‘Nearly finished,' grinned Millie. ‘Just got to wring yer out, wrap a towel round yer bonce and that's us done.' She suited her actions to her words and stepped back. ‘Finished,' she announced with satisfaction. ‘Now you just have a nice lie there and I'll be back in ten minutes.'

Relieved that her ordeal was over, Maggie did exactly as she was told. As the door closed behind Millie she leaned back and closed her eyes, trailing a hand idly through the bubbles.

The water was cooling now and she shivered, the soft peaks of her nipples rising and hardening in the damp air. A tremor of pleasure ran through her and she caressed them gently, her other hand slipping lower to find the secret place at the base of her belly. A tiny moan escaped her as she parted the lips of her vulva and found the hard little bud hidden in the folds of flesh and began to fondle it. Her thighs loosened and parted, and she slid two fingers inside, continuing to stroke her clitoris with her thumb as she began to move them in and out, slowly at first, then faster as the sensations mounted.

Then the door banged open and she snatched her hands guiltily away, her face scarlet. ‘Here we go,' announced Millie, carrying a covered tray and laying it on the stand beside the bed. She picked up a towel, unfolded it and held it out. ‘Up you get,' she ordered, and looked at Maggie critically. ‘About time too, by the looks of it,' she said. ‘The heat must be affecting you. You've gone quite red in the face.' Her comment only served to make Maggie blush the more.

Stepping out, she allowed Millie to wrap the towel around her, snuggling into the warm folds, and she was about to go and sit by the fire and comb her wet hair out when Millie's next words stopped her in her tracks.

‘Where do you think you're going?' she demanded, and indicated the tray beside the bed. ‘We ain't finished yet. Get yerself laid out there and get that towel opened.'

Maggie looked at her in bewilderment. ‘What for?' she asked.

Millie rolled her eyes. ‘Use your head, girl. Yer gonna be an untouched maiden, ain't yer?' She fluttered her eyelashes in a grotesque parody. ‘A sweet little innocent, trembling on the brink of womanhood. Don't want the sight of yer big hairy muff spoiling the gentlemen's, illusions now do we?'

For a few moments her words meant absolutely nothing, then their meaning filtered through to Maggie's brain. ‘You... you mean you're going to shave me?' she squawked, her voice rising.

‘As clean as a whistle,' Millie confirmed, grinning. ‘By the time I've finished that sweet little fanny of yours will be as smooth as a baby's bum.'

‘That's what you think,' Maggie said grimly. ‘You're not coming anywhere near me.'

Millie sighed. ‘I told you before,' she said patiently. ‘There's no point kicking up a fuss. Do you really want Arthur holding you down while Jebediah comes at you with a razor in his hand?' She shuddered. ‘It's not something I'd fancy - but you please yerself.' She sniffed. ‘It's no skin off my nose.'

Maggie groaned; she was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. She couldn't win; it was going to happen whatever she did or said, so she might as well give in gracefully. ‘Oh, all right then,' she snarled, flouncing onto the bed and flinging off the towel. ‘But you'd better be damned careful with that razor. I want all me bits left intact, thank you very much.'

Millie stared down at her, admiring the plump breasts, the narrow waist and the long slender legs. She was a pretty one, and no mistake. The gentlemen would be falling over themselves to get their hands on her. She shook herself. Better get a move on before Ma Wilkes turned up and demanded what they thought they were playing at.

She pulled the cover off the tray to reveal a shaving brush, a bowl of shaving soap, a basin of hot water - and a glinting cutthroat razor. ‘Put yer arms over yer ‘ead,' she ordered. ‘We'll do yer pits first. Break yer in gently.'

With a martyred sigh, Maggie did as she was told, squirming as Millie plastered the shaving soap beneath her arms. ‘Stop wriggling,' snapped Millie. ‘D'yer want me to ‘ave yer arm off at the shoulder?' She giggled. ‘Mind you, it wouldn't make much difference to the gents. There's them as likes a girl with a few bits missing.'

‘I can't help it, it tickles,' protested Maggie. ‘And what do you mean “a few bits missing”? What are you talking about.'

‘We used ter ‘ave a girl called “One-legged Doll”,' grinned Millie. ‘Very popular with some of the gentlemen, she was.' She shook her head philosophically as she deftly wielded the razor. ‘Just goes to show, don't it. Yer could ‘ave one eye, no teeth an' a face like an old boot - and there'd still be some bloke who'd pay good money ter shag yer. Warms the cockles of yer heart, don't it.'

‘What happened to her then?' asked Maggie, interested despite her predicament and the absurdity of the tale.

‘She hopped it,' Millie muttered absent-mindedly, then realised what she'd said and her hand flew to her mouth and they looked at each and began to giggle hysterically. ‘One leg, ‘opped it!' she guffawed. ‘Blimey! That's a good ‘un! And it just sorter slipped out, too!'

She recovered herself with difficulty and turned back to the task in hand. ‘Right, that's yer arms done,' she said briskly. ‘Now get them legs spread and let me at yer fanny.'

Reluctantly Maggie parted her thighs, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at Millie. She drew in her breath as the other girl applied the brush to her private parts and rivulets of warm soapy water trickled down the cleft of her vulva. She was still frustrated from being so rudely interrupted in her bath, and the tantalising brush strokes triggered off the sensations she'd tried so hard to suppress, so she bit her lip to keep back the soft moan that threatened to escape them.

‘Don't you dare move now,' warned Millie, picking up the razor again, and Maggie felt the sharp blade gliding over her, icy cold against her feverish skin, and she bit her lip even harder as Millie continued and heat began to spread through her belly, so much so that it was both a relief and a disappointment when Millie stopped. ‘There,' she said, her voice seeming to come from a great distance. ‘All done. Just a spot of cream now and that's you.'

Maggie's eyes flew open as Millie's warm oily hand massaged the cream into the soft folds of her sex lips. ‘What are you doing?' she gasped.

‘Me?' asked Millie, in tones of innocence. ‘Why, just finishing you off.' She smiled wickedly as she continued to knead the soft flesh. ‘Feels nice, don't it?'

Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but emitted a low sigh instead as the busy hand continued to soothe and stroke. Her limbs felt warm and heavy and her eyelids drooped again as Millie parted the lips of her fanny and slipped two fingers inside. Her thumb found the hard nub of Maggie's clitoris and began to tease it gently.

‘Like that, do yer?' Millie asked breathlessly, and Maggie's mouth opened in a soft sigh of agreement as Millie bent and replaced her fingers with her lips. She opened Maggie like a ripe fig and began to lap gently at the glistening pink flesh exposed to her attentions, flicking the swollen bud with her tongue. Maggie moaned and writhed as hot lust flooded her loins.

Smiling, Millie stood and slipped off her own shift. Her body was fuller than Maggie's. Her plump breasts sagged slightly under their own weight, the nipples large and dark compared to Maggie's. Her hips were lush and rounded and dark glossy hair gleamed at the juncture of her heavy thighs. She was like the painting of some fertile Roman goddess Maggie had seen once in a book.

With a sigh of pleasure she lay down beside Maggie and reached for her again, fondling her pert bosom, so different from her own, before leaning over, her own heavy breasts dangling, and taking each pink nipple between her lips in turn. Maggie tried to push her away, but her efforts were half-hearted; she had gone too far to stop now.

Millie took Maggie's hand and planted it between her own thighs, and Maggie gasped as she felt the other female's vulva beneath her fingers. Tentatively she slipped them into the hot wetness and began to move them as she would if she was frigging herself, and was rewarded by a moan of delight. Made bolder, she pushed Millie gently back on the pillow and bent her head to sample the other's breasts, sucking and nibbling at the dark swollen nipples, then trailing her mouth down the length of her body. The musky scent of Millie's excitement engulfed her as she plunged her tongue into her sex, lapping eagerly at the hot salty juices.

Her chin still wet, she retraced her path and their lips met, tongues entwining, breasts crushed together as their hands worked between each other's thighs, sensation mounting until they exploded in a mutual climax. Gasping for breath Maggie collapsed on the pillows, her body still alive with the after-effects of their pleasure - as horror at their unnatural passion washed through her like a crimson tide.

Millie looked at her shrewdly, noting the scarlet cheeks and the averted eyes. ‘Feeling ashamed of yerself, are yer?' she asked, and Maggie nodded mutely. ‘Don't waste yer time,' she advised, swinging her legs off the bed. ‘All we did was give each other a little bit of comfort. Place like this, yer takes yer pleasure where yer can find it.' She snorted. ‘And if yer worrying about what the Holy Joes would say, forget it. We got a few of them comes here, and they ain't half so holy once they gets their drawers off, I can tell yer.'

She slipped back into her clothes then leaned over and patted Maggie's hand. ‘Now you just put it right out of yer mind, love.' Her lips set grimly. ‘You got other things to worry about.'

Maggie stared at her blankly, and then comprehension and dismay rushed back. Of course, the auction! She groaned in despair. How could she possibly have forgotten about that?

 

 

 

The thought had barely formed in her mind before the door swung open and Mrs Wilkes bustled in. For once - no doubt inspired by the thought of the money to come - she was actually smiling. Over her arms she carried a linen clothes bag, which she laid at the foot of the bed.

The two girls sprang guiltily apart and Maggie got to her feet, hastily wrapping the towel round herself again, knotting it tightly above her breasts. Mrs Wilkes tutted, her good humour disappearing. ‘For heaven's sake, girl,' she sighed in exasperation, ‘why must you persist in this ridiculous false modesty? This is a brothel, not a nunnery. Get that off and let me look at you.' Maggie stepped backwards, clutching it even tighter, but in three short strides Mrs Wilkes crossed the room and wrenched it from her, leaving her standing naked and exposed. Arms folded, Mrs Wilkes inspected her from head to toe, nodding with satisfaction as she took in the soft breasts, the narrow waist and the sweet curve of hips and thighs. ‘Part your legs,' she ordered.

Closing her eyes against the humiliation, Maggie did as she was told, shuddering with revulsion as Mrs Wilkes ran a hand over her newly shaven pudenda. For all the emotion she showed, she might have been checking over a horse she intended to purchase. ‘Excellent,' she said, wiping her hand fastidiously on her apron. ‘If any of our gentlemen callers can tell the difference between you and a proper virgin, I'll eat my Sunday hat - and give him his money back into the bargain.'

‘Pretty safe bet then,' Millie muttered out of the corner of her mouth. ‘The tight-fisted old bitch would rather have her teeth pulled than part with three farthings.'

Mrs Wilkes glared at her. ‘Did you say something, Millicent?' she enquired icily.

‘Er... no, ma'am,' Millie murmured, lowering her eyes. ‘I didn't say nothing.'

‘A good job too, young lady,' Mrs Wilkes said grimly. ‘There's plenty of girls out on the streets as'd be only too pleased to take your place here. Just you keep that in mind next time you feel like being clever at my expense.'

‘Yes, ma'am,' Millie said meekly.

‘Right,' the harridan went on, turning back to Maggie. ‘Time to get you dressed. The gentlemen will be arriving shortly, and we don't want to keep them waiting.'

Maggie shivered again. As far as she was concerned they could wait till hell froze over, but unfortunately she had no say in the matter, so she watched with apprehension as Mrs Wilkes picked up the clothes bag and opened it. What appalling costume would she be forced to put on for this charade? One of those gaudy skin-tight frocks the other girls wore, that exposed breasts and thighs to the lewd gaze of the clients?

She gasped as Mrs Wilkes drew out the contents.

‘What did you expect, girl?' Mrs Wilkes asked shrewdly. ‘You're a sweet virgin, remember, not some dockyard trull.' She held up the short white dress. ‘This'll get their John Thomas' standing to attention,' she gloated. ‘Dirty bastards; they'll be fighting to outbid each other once they see you in this. But first...' she produced a length of fine linen, rather like a broad bandage.