A Victorian Novelette

By Annie Mohre

Click Here and let me know if you like this story!

This vignette is my interpretation of a story I read as a young girl. I was so impressed with the content and flow that I decided to create my own version since the original has been long lost and the only account is in my memories. I do not remember the author, or I would give credit where credit is due. It may have been anonymous for all that I can remember. I hope you like this as much as I did Click Here and let me know. Love Annie

THE STORY

Chapter One

Envision, if you will, a time when men on the British Isles wore hats and capes, and women wore floor-length dresses with tight, high-necked bodices. Everything had lots of tiny buttons to undo, even the shoes. No zippers! Women were not even allowed to show an ankle in public, bare, or not. Society was of a much more formal venue than today, even by British standards.

A man, rich and single told this story, who loved fucking women. He had, among his holdings, a huge house, which, as it happened, he used to be an actual insane asylum! This fine gentleman liked the building, because it looked on the outside like a huge Victorian Mansion, and had about 100 rooms. After his purchase, he had most of the interior redecorated, to remove any hint of its former state. The rooms were finely appointed, but not too sumptuous, as tastes of that time ran more to austerity and spartaness, even in rich homes. Over-indulgence of any form was thought to be delving into "pleasures of the flesh", which was of course, sinful. However, this man liked such "immoralities", and he made certain his personal living quarters were both appointed with the most luxuriant accoutrements that he could obtain. He had to have much of it imported, from Persia and the Far East, but he thought it was worth it. His female "guests" did too, after their initial shock wore off. And usually their shock disappeared about the same time as their clothing...

Well, in some cases it didn't, but those were the ladies he would gag and bind to his four-poster bed, so they could make no objection to any of his advances! Oddly enough, the Master Bedroom was not his favorite room in the house!!

That room would be "the mad room"!!!

Now the mad room was located way up on the third floor of the building, off in a corner of the West wing, somewhat removed from the other living quarters. Our man, whom I will refer to, for the sake of expedience, as "Phillip", had given strict instructions that this room be left in its original state. His formal excuse was that he felt the home had some historical value, and he wanted to keep this room as a sort of museum area. He even added touches of his own now and then, to enhance its authenticity. In fact, Phillip loved to entertain, and he was always giving a dinner parties. Granted, they were pretty stilted by modern, not to mention human, standards, but that was the way of things. Phil actually gave the parties just to meet women, or "conquests" as he liked to think of them. He would invite a male friend who just happened to have several sisters, and so as not to be rude, the sisters were invited also. Or, he would find some sweet young thing in the company of her Chaperone, and ask them to tea in such an "above board" manner that they couldn't possibly refuse him. He met these women in different places; at the theatre, or in a bookshop, or perhaps even while waiting for his carriage to drive up.

Phil was always the epitome of decorum and good taste. He laid his webs so carefully that his "acquisitions" had no idea that they were being lured into an unseemly lair until it was far, far too late!! It was in this "modus operandi" that Phillip Bradstone met Miss Lucy Andover and her Mother, Mrs. Cornelia Winston Andover. The details of where and when are not important, but suffice it to say that in less than an hour, Mr. Bradstone had the Misses Andover wrapped around his little finger, which he planned to use to tickle their velvet mounds with, as soon as possible!

Chapter Two

As Phillip led his guests through the spacious home-tour, he could tell they were quite impressed. Mrs. Andover, who was packing a bulk of 200-odd pounds, was enormously satisfied. Phillip knew she had agreed to come along in the first place, because she knew he was as rich as Midas, and she was looking for a suitable Suitor for her daughter. Suitor, hell, Phillip thought, The old bird is fishing for a husband! He called her "old" even though he was barely thirty, and the Mother was only ten years his senior. Miss Lucy was just nineteen, a mere lass, and most assuredly, a virgin. Phillip liked them young and inexperience, so that he might "train" them to his liking. He didn't want some prim pussy, which would faint at the mere mention of the word "sex". And he certainly didn't want the pinched-faced shrews that seemed to overflow the marketplace, forever virginal, forever sexless. No, Lucy was just the right. A ripe plum for his picking!!

There lived an old saying that ventured, "If you look at the Mother, you will see the daughter, in due time."

Phillip was sure this wouldn't be true with Lucy. Whereas her Mother was hefty, with bright, greedy eyes and a shrill tone of voice, always graspy and questioning about his financial welfare, her daughter was completely the opposite. Thank God, Phillip breathed. In fact, he wouldn't put it past saying that Lucy, in her own petite way, was just short of beautiful. Though her body was hidden away in long rows of tiny bodice ruffles, tiny hooked buttons, and yards of figure-deceiving material, Phillip could still see that Lucy was both at once delicate, without being fragile, and, at nineteen, on the cusp of her young adult womanhood. Her small bosom was set above a slender waistline and well-shaped hips. Two stray chestnut curls escaped her bunned hairdo, laying on the back of her alabaster neck, as if silently beckoning the rest of her imprisoned locks to tumble down in soft, sensual waves across her small shoulders. It was all Phillip could do not arouse it. And, he didn't just want to see her with her hair down. He wanted her dress down as well! He watched her heart-shaped face, noting the pink, full lips-the better to suck you with-seeing her widow's peak above that flawless-skinned forehead-her head down at his crotch, bobbing with every thrust into her mouth. Watching her big blue eyes and long, dark lashes looking up at him so sweetly, so submissively, so reverently, when he would allow it, he could see her mouth forming the words, "Yes Master. How may I please you, sir; do tell me! I am your obedient servant!"

Phillip could feel his thing twitch, and he tried to force his mind to the young girl. But, as they neared the massive door of the mad room, a wild urge slapped his mind, to just take hold of her bodice neckline and RIP IT straight downwards, all the way to the waist-band, exposing every inch of her perfect, succulent, virgin BREASTS!! Yes, he would love to do just that! It would be a symbol of liberty for men everywhere, who longed for something more?

Victorian fashion was, at best, a disappointment to most men of that era, though many of them didn't quite realize it. There was such a thing as "keeping the mystery alive". Then there was no room left, even for ones imagination. Every stitch women wore was high-necked, long-skirted, long-sleeved hatted and hooded, booted and corseted. It was enough to make a sane man go Mad!! Or at least, a man such as Phillip since he'd have given anything to see a bit of ankle now and again, or an upper arm perhaps. God forgive him if he ever saw the wealth of a breast!! But, he wasn't in charge of the fashion parade, and for all his money's influence, couldn't budge society's moral bars. So, he bought and outfitted his own little "prison", high above the cobbled streets of London, where inhibitions would be freed, and much, much more than an ankle could be seen!! So, quite reluctantly, and patiently, Phillip told himself, steady ... steady old man. Just a few more moments, and she will be yours for the taking!

He almost laughed out loud, thinking of the reaction mother would have had if he had been so bold towards her daughter. Why, the old cow would probably faint dead away with heart palpitations! He smiled to himself, and realized, hell, she may yet do, in any case, after I'm done with her! Wouldn't that be lovely? Then I could make her little Innocent my Ward, and just keep her here!! What a thought!!

Chapter Three

Phillip always saved "the best for last", on his home tours. The trio entered the mad room, after Phillip made a show of unlocking the massive and heavy oak door. It squeaked ever so slightly, as they entered what Phillip loved to think of as "The Lair".

Phillip escorted his guests inside, and began showing them all the entrapments of the facility. He, of course, did not yet reveal his true intent. He busied himself demonstrating and explaining how the former inmates of the asylum were retrained. This was a large rectangular room, with small, high windows along the outer cornered walls. These windows were sealed and doubled-pained. There were no ledges outside of them, and the drop to the gardens below was about 30 feet. There was no escape there, even were an inmate wily enough to reach a window, break the glass, and be able to get through the opening. The room was strewn with various sizes of heavy oak tables and chairs, crafted in the style of the era, mostly high-backed chairs, of Spartan design. Insane asylums were not funded well, and there were no unnecessary items, such as pillows. Only a couple of thin blankets and some sheets were left on a shelf.

The furniture was heavy, so that it could not be picked up and thrown, or at least not easily. A stack of old pallets occupied a corner, having once belonged to iron framed cots which were no longer present. The only furniture available for horizontal restraint were two steel tables to the left of the door, each fitted with heavy, buckled straps, and each bearing odd looking head clamps at one end.

The head clamps were attached to the table itself by flexible hinges, and could be fitted over the crown of the head and below the chin, so as to hold a patient's head immobile. A locking device, secured with a key, was hinged on one end of the top clamp, and this device could be swung downward like a little gate, to cover the left side of the patient's head. At the bottom of the device, at jaw level, two grooves fit together, where a metal pin could be inserted. The pin looked like a large modern age safety pin. It was clipped together in the way a safety pin is, holding the chin piece against the sidepiece. A tiny key could be inserted in a keyhole on the side of the device to keep the pin in check. Once a person's head was clamped in this manner, and their arms and legs strapped down, movement was at a minimum. Wrist and ankle clamps were also handy and they worked like large cuffs. These cuffs were along the sides of the tables, and Phillip had ordered another pair of handcuffs installed at the top end of each table as well.

At the right end of the room, in the center of the floor, stood a large iron chair, high-backed, with no cushions. Its legs were welded into the floor so that it was solidly set. The armrests were fitted with iron wrist cuffs, and the front legs fitted with ankle cuffs. At the foot of the chair's forelegs, two metal footrests, like those on wheeled chairs, were available to be swung outward. Phillip had these modified so that they could be moved further out to each side, therefore spreading wide the legs of an occupant. The foot pedals could be aligned with the frontal ankle cuffs so that the inmate's legs must stay in the exposed position, until released. On the floor, next to this chair, several black velvet cords lay in a heap.

Directly across from the entry point, in the exact center of the room, stood a huge, round, stone pillar. This pillar actually began in the basement and ran the horizontal height of the house, culminating in an iron-plated roof spire. The pillar was so large that three normal-sized persons could stand against it, with their arms outstretched, and still not touch fingertips. On three sides of the pillar, at ankle level, were three sets of iron cuffs embedded into the stone. Wrist cuffs were also available, but higher, above head level. Short iron chains also hung next to each cuff and could be used as extensions. One end could be hooked to the pillar cuff, and the other end cuffed to wrist or ankle. Phillip had the chains added, since, sometimes a little movement was necessary in an inmate's treatment. Now and again, some workman would question him about the equipment, and his answer was always the same. "Historical authenticity."

To that end, Phillip was presently inquiring of a Hungarian carnival owner if he might be persuaded to part with some of his trapeze devices. Phillip loved to test the frontiers of sexual imprisonment.

Chapter Four

The mother and daughter slowly toured the room with him, and Phillip secretly rejoiced at their shocked faces, as he explained the nature of each impediment. He still did not reveal their sexual enterprise, but the time was near. Before bringing the women upstairs, he had served them both tea and crumpets, in his front parlor. Unbeknownst to the ladies, the tea was laced with a certain anesthetic from a temple of the Far East. Opium was rather difficult to obtain locally, only legally available to doctors and hospitals. Phillip had obtained his supply from an old friend, who just happened to preside over a very ancient and secret brothel in London. He had calculated, by past experiences, the exact time it would take for the drug to have it effects on the women. While they were busy staring around the room in awestruck, but fascinated, horror, Phillip stealthily bolted and locked the big oak door, thus cutting off their only means of exit. Phillip checked his pocket watch and eyed his unsuspecting victims carefully. "Any minute now", he thought.

Suddenly Miss Lucy swooned into a heap on the floor. Her lithe, small body had used to it's anesthetic quickly. Cornelia was at her side, frantic. "Lucy! Lucy! Master Bradstone, come quickly! Something has happened?", she cried.

No quite, Cornelia dear, but it is about to? Phillip moved in, outwardly showing the proper signs of concern. "It must be the shock of this room, Mrs. Andover; I'm am truly sorry! She has fainted from the shock, I think. Let me get her up on one of these tables?" He moved the drugged girl, pretending to be worried. In the back of his mind, he was wondering if he had miscalculated the dosage in Mummy's tea. He had given her twice as much as Lucy's, reasoning that she was a bigger woman and would need more, to become unconscious. And still, she stood there, nervously twisting her gloved hands, watching him perfunctorily try to revive her daughter. If she doesn't go down in a couple of minutes, I'll have to take more drastic measures, he was thinking. He didn't want to have to hit her, but it might come to that.

"Help me lift her feet, Madam!", he ordered. "A new medical journal states that this sometimes aids in revival, by forcing blood to the brain." It was the only thing he could think of to keep the Mother occupied for a moment. Knowing nothing of medicine, she complied, looking at her daughters still face for a sign.

"How long must we hold them up, Master Bradstone?"

He did not answer, and she looked at him. He was staring at his watch. She assumed he was timing the revival attempt, when in actuality, he was timing her fall into oblivion. Drop, you old cow! Drop, damn it, he thought. And, as if by mind control, suddenly Mummy's eyes rolled back, and she fell with a thud. As Phillip dragged her towards the second metal table, he wished he had thought to have her up there before she passed out. Lifting 200 pounds was no small feat! But he had to have her on that table and into the restraints. Somehow, and with immeasurable difficulty, he managed to hoist and roll her onto the table. She was even heavier in dead weight, and afterwards, he has to stop and catch his breath. Though a fine specimen of a man, Phillip was no Olympian.

"The things I do for sex!", He breathed. But there was no time for dilly-dallying now. Lucy had already been out for fifteen minutes, and he had to get her undressed and in position quickly. Not that she was any match for him, but he just didn't want anymore trouble. He still had to disrobe Mummy and tie her down.

Phillip worked feverishly, already thinking ahead to what he was planning for Lucy and Cornelia that afternoon. He had but four scant hours in which to complete his desires. Any longer, and their absence elsewhere would be noticed. He could not afford any undue inquiries into his affairs!

It was a tedious process of undressing Lucy, since he had sadly decided that ripping her clothes was not practical. He would keep tearing her clothes in mind for a future time, thought Phillip, as he picked her up and took her to the stone pillar. He leaned her up, first cuffing her wrists in the high cuffs, then her ankles, so that her feet rested on the floor. He stepped back, surveying his work.

Totally naked, she was cuffed into the shape of an "X". Her raised arms, further lifted her already perky little breasts higher. Her rosy nipples were already standing out, coaxed by the slightly cool air in the room, and also the coldness of the pillar against her body. Her lovely legs were wide apart, and her triangle of dark fur was in full view. He shivered in anticipation of her secret garden, knowing her flower was still intact. But, not for much longer! Virgins had the tightest cunts in the world, which was why he always tried to have one whenever possible. He couldn't resist reaching out to stroke the velvety mound. She did not respond, except for a slight dampness under the hair. Her head lolled to one side, her dark lashes remained closed, and her rose-petal pink lips remained slightly parted in her slumber. In the process of disrobing her, her bun had become somewhat tousled, and several more ringlets had escape, falling against her delicate face.

He was getting hard right now, just looking at her! He wanted to devour her, to ravage her entire body, for hours and hours. He gulped and reluctantly took his hand away from her bush.

He still had work to do.

He decided that he would have to speed up disrobing Mummy. He took a pair of scissors and cut away some fabric, and tore the rest until there was no covering left. Having sent all the servants off for the day, he would have to find some other way to replace the clothing for her when the time came. He would also have to figure a way to keep her mouth shut so he simply gagged her with a strip of her own petticoat. Being a woman of ample size, her breasts were quite large. They sank to each side, and the large brown nipples were a bit wrinkled. He pulled her arms up and did the higher wrist cuffs, which lifted her breasts well enough. Her nipples were beginning to harden into tiny Twin Peaks of arousal. He moved down to her feet and secured them with the ankle cuffs. Her bush was bigger by far than her daughters, and her pubic hair was spread out so that it appeared thinner. He had never seen a woman this big before, and though somewhat disgusted, his curiosity had the better of him. He reached into her muff and pulled at her pussy lips. They were pink, wrinkly, and dry. He wondered how long it had been since this woman had been fucked, much less sucked. Probably not since her early womanhood, for he was sure she had grown up in her present over weight condition.

Unfortunately, some woman just filled out in all the wrong places as they got older. He could not imagine this ever happening to Lucy. Still, he did have plans for Mummy, not with himself, but with Lucy. After double looping Mummy's restraints, he removed his suit coat and vest. He rolled up his white shirtsleeves, baring his muscular arms. He unbuttoned his shirt partway to reveal is well worked chest. He was a tall man, about 6' 1", and though a town gentleman, he had made it his business to stay healthy and fit. He had always been a lover of women, and craved good sex, and it worked out better if you had good stamina and fine control. This would only come from body muscle tone, and from sexual practice. Hence, Phillip's interest in the mad room.

Allowing woman to have their passionate play, he did take plenty of occasions to join in whenever he felt like it. He was always the Master, always in complete control of everything that went in within these bizarre walls. This was his idea of Heaven on Earth.

Chapter Five

While he waited for them to awaken, Phillip busied himself with pulling Cornelia's clothing from beneath her. It was not easy with the restraints on. He got his riding crop and placed it where he could pick it up quickly, and got the blindfolds ready. He also laid out a small assortment of dildos he had collected from the underground brothel. One such item was made of sterling silver and it was shaped like a handball. The bell chamber was fitted backwards onto the handle and a wheel of short spokes went from the base of the handle out to the edge of the bell chamber. There was a clapper tongue inside, so the bell would be rung when inside the sex canal. The vibration of the sound and the hardness of the metal were the main stimulants here, along with the pulse created each time the clapper struck. The idea was, to slide it up inside until the cunt muscles gripped. Given that the bell was perfectly smooth, this usually only worked well with virginal pussy. Then the woman was expected to walk around with the bell handle protruding from her pussy lips. The movement of her body would cause the bell to ring, and the vibrations would eventually cause her to reach orgasm.

Some of the more experienced whores in the brothel could actually waltz with a bell inside their pussy, so strong were their muscles.

Another item was a pair of silver ben-wa balls, attached to one another by a small spring. When placed in her cunt, the balls would roll around, knocking and clicking against each other, causing vibrations with the same end results. These were from Japan or China, and almost impossible to find, but Phillip had four sets in different sizes. These took more muscle power to hold it and one way that the whores practice was that they would allow metal coins to be inserted into their cunts, until they were full. Then they would walk around and try to hold the coins in for as long as possible, even when they were becoming increasingly wetter. Several other devices lay at his disposal, such as having the dildo of his choice handy.

A moan alerted him to the Lucys awakening. He walked over to her, eager to see her first reaction to her situation. Virgins were always the best. They had no ideas of what normal sex was like, much less abnormal sex! Lucy proved to be no exception. He watched her pretty face intently, and could tell that even before her eyes opened, she was aware of her nudity. He doubted that anyone, save her childhood nanny, had ever seen her naked before. As expected, her lashes fluttered slightly, and all at once her lids flew open in shock and confusion. Her deep blue eyes were wide and staring, and she saw enough at a glance, knowing her own body was fully exposed, and this man standing right in front of her watching everything. It made her blush crimson all the way down to her tits. She began breathing rapidly, and looked about, wild-eyed, for protection. She was like a small bird suddenly caught in a net, frantic to get away. This fact alone made Phillip's erection come into being, as he adored watching his victims squirm helplessly before him!!

He grinned and said in a jovial tone of voice, "There's no help for you here, my darling, except that which I chose to give."

Lucy had turned her face to the side and crammed her eyes shut, hoping it would all somehow disappear like a bad dream. Alas, her hopes were dashed to tears of mortification when she felt the first brushes of the Ostrich feather along her inner thigh!! She wept softly and steadily, having been taught that this was a sure way to find a rescuer. This time, she was vastly mistaken. Phillip had no time for tears. Besides, he knew that after she was properly stimulated and further indoctrinated into the pleasures of forced sex, she would be a willing Submissive to him. She would even come to beg for it, and beg for it to come.

The only fluids that Phillip was interested in secreting from her right now did not involve her face, so he mopped her up, chiding her for her silly display. Her face did not reflect her gratitude. She would not look at him until he forced her by pulling her chin around. He was a bit surprised at the venom in her eyes. His left brow lifted a bit and he studied her expression for a moment. They stared into one another's eyes, and all at once, she wrenched her chin away from his fingers, her mouth was set, her eyes like daggers. "So! The little wench had some fire after all!", he thought. This was going to be more fun than he had anticipated. He did love a challenge! It would be indeed a pleasure to wipe that defiance right out of her, physically and emotionally.

"Why are you doing this?!", She hissed vehemently. She wanted to spit at him. But, she was still afraid. After all, she had no way to shield herself from his advances, be they kind or not. She ground her teeth in frustration, as he sat down in front of her on the wooden chair he had pulled up. He ignored her for a moment, preferring to glide the feather around in lazy circles along first one creamy thigh and then the other. At the mere touch, she started and gasped. She watched him in shock, as he ran the thing across her mound, back-and-forth, several times. She tried and failed to suppress the moan in her throat, and her body twitched involuntarily

"You see, my dear, your cunny knows what it wants, even if your mind does not. I fear that you are woefully lacking in proper sexual instruction!" At the word sexual, Lucy thought she would melt into a puddle of embarrassment. She couldn't look at him anymore, and the hate in her eyes was dampened down to contempt. She began surveying the room, and suddenly realized something.

She screamed out, "Mother! Mother!! Where are you, Mother! HELP ME!" Phillip continued his dalliances with her thighs, moving the feather faster and closer to her mound, brushing it several times, harder than before. Lucy squealed, and bucked against the pillar, and her ass made a sensual slapping sound against the rock.

"Get used to it", thought Phillip smiling, as his eyes devoted to her perspiring bush. He planned to take her from behind, and to hear a similar slap as her butt cheeks hit his balls.

But all he said was, "Your Mother is perfectly well, Lucy. If you look to the left, you will see that she had actually been taking a little nap!" Lucy jerked her head around and gasped. Her Mother lay on the metal table closest to them, clamped down and gagged. She saw that something silver protruded from the dark patch of ... Lucy screamed since she had never seen her own Mother naked in her life, and certainly not in this awful position!

Chapter Six

"Noooooooo!", she screamed, and a sob caught in her throat. She really let fly the tears now, screaming and crying, straining against the cuffs till she thought her bones would crack. But it was no use. All the while, Phillip was playing with her cunt! Now she truly hated him. She didn't know how to say it, but she wanted to kill him dead at that very moment.

Phillip sighed and got up. This was taking too long. He wanted her tantrum over, and he wanted her WET. Her tossed the feather aside and slapped Lucy three times, hard across her face. Then he put his hand around her throat and held her head still. Her shrill screams subsided into quiet sobs, but he spoke harshly anyway. "Stop it this instant, you little bitch! It is time you learned who your Master is!"

She continued crying, but no more screams came from her swollen lips, as she hung her head in abject despair. Phillips smiled, for this was her first step toward the submission he craved from her. First cruelty, then kindness. He mopped her up again, and said in a more amiable tone of voice, "There now, no more tears, my pretty. You may as well accept your captivity now, and save us both a lot of trouble. There now, that's better. Now, I want you to look at me."

Lucy was still blushing and couldn't. Phillip persisted.

"Lucy,", he warned softly, but sternly, "Look at me? Now!"

She still wouldn't, turning her head further away, and sniffling like a frightened child. Phillips voice was a bit harsher, as he stood directly in front of her, now holding the riding crop in his right hand.

"Do you want another slap or two, is that it? Or shall I just give you the flogging you deserve, hmmm?" With this, he snapped the air with the short whip, near enough to make her jump. She drew back as far as she was able, her eyes, wide and fearful, roaming from his face to the whip, and back again. He stepped closer, and made as if to strike. She flinched, and cried, "No! Please!"

"Please.", he repeated, as if he'd never heard the word before. He lowered the whip, but didn't lay it aside just yet. "That is a word you will become well acquainted with in here. I'm glad you know how to use it so charmingly, my dear. But, this is most important, my girl. You must learn to obey my orders as specifically as possible. You must do as you are told, without question! If you do, you will be rewarded. If you don't, you will be punished. Is that clear to you?"

He was pacing to and fro before her, as if he were telling a class full of students how to apply Physics. She stared at him as if he were quite insane, as she now suspected it. He was acting as if this were a perfectly normal circumstance! She could scarcely believe it. She would have forgotten she was naked for a moment, if it weren't for the fact that the room was so chilly. Goosebumps had come out all over her body, and the stone at her backside felt like ice. She had to get away from this place before she caught her death! And ... her poor, poor Mother! Lucy glanced quickly over, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he did. A loud, and anxious moan had gone up from the metal table. Phillip eyed Lucy for a moment, then strode purposefully over to the older woman.

In a cheerful tone, he called out to her, "Ah, Cornelia, you're awake at last! We were beginning to think you would sleep all afternoon!" Cornelia muffled her confusion through the gag, and then suddenly realized she was no longer wearing anything. Her eyes widened in horror and a shrill wail arose from her stuffed mouth. She promptly fainted.

"Mother!", Lucy cried to her, but it was too late. The dutiful daughter once again strained at her cuffs, but for just an instant, as her movements were completely restricted, except for her head and fingers. She twitched her round ass against the wall, hoping somehow to slide out of the cuffs, but to no avail. She was getting angry again, but when she saw him turn, his eyes dark and sinister, his hand gripping the weapon tightly, she froze. As he approached her, their eyes were locked; hers were wide, his were menacing. It was finally then that she realized She Had No Choices. She looked at the floor, but did not cry. It was the only thing she could withhold from him, and she would, if it killed her! Phillip relaxed his grip. He saw what she was about, and he was pleased. Things were progressing nicely. He felt his power over her nearing completion, and it was an intoxicating drug.

Phillip again stood face to face with Lucy. "Look at me."

This time, she responded immediately. Her eyes were blanks, as if she was staring through him. Her face was a mask, neither defiance nor fear were evident. He didn't like it. He repeated his command, more forcefully. "Look at me! LUCY!!" She flinched, blinked, her mask was broken. He took her chin and pinched it hard between his fingers, aiming her gaze at his, to make his point. "I can beat it out of you, you know! And I will, UNLESS YOU START COOPERATING!"

Lucy didn't know if she was shaking more from the chill or from his shouting. "I can't fool him! No place to hide", she thought.

Her shoulders would have dropped if it were possible, in utter defeat. Her head went down, but not before he saw the look he was hoping for. He let go of her chin, but not before he gave it a cruel twist, leaving red marks.

"I should be very angry with you, missy! You have wasted a lot of my precious time today! If it weren't for the fact that I have a schedule to keep, I would whip welts onto that fine ass of yours! You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood! Now, look down at your pussy!"

Forever blushing, Lucy complied, not knowing what to expect. He brought back the feather, but this time he spared no time in delicate passes. He had to get her cuming as quickly as possible, as he had plans for her, and he wanted her to orgasm first.

She gasped and twitched as he swiftly manipulated her sensitive mound, until it showed signs of wetness. He then laid aside the feather, which he had used on her as a painter uses a brush, stroke, stroke, and stroke, softly across her dark, lush pussy hairs. He next applied the silk glove, alternating his finger massages, first gentle, then a bit rough, gentle, rough, and so on. Now her fur glistened with the secret dew of her juices! Like a Master at his work bench, he brought forth his next tool, and as she panted and moaned uncontrollably as he inserted between her now swollen lips, a vibration device he had ordered specially made in Amsterdam. It consisted of an oval-shaped, pure gold mechanism, with a long sculpted handle. The handle he held, and the oval slid into her, parting her pink, shining lips like large rose petals falling open in the rain.

Inside the hollow oval, which was etched in intricate designs and sexual symbols, was a small shaker, not unlike a maraca. It bounced on the end of a tiny spring, in close confines, so that when moved about, the "maraca" would beat against the inner walls of the oval, side-to-side or up-and-down, causing the needed vibration. Additionally, the handle bore a tiny lever, and when pushed forward, it would shoot the spring back and forth, shaking the maraca so that sound vibrations occurred. The sound vibes were more effective than the shaking, actually, and could cause multiple orgasms, if manipulated properly, inside the cunt. Naturally, Phillip was expert at this sort of work! Before long, he had Lucy heaving and thrusting. Her head was back, her eyes half-closed and her ass freely slapping against the stone pillar! Oh, how Phillip loved the sound of a naked slap!

So, Miss Lucy Andover was vibrated into bliss that afternoon? After the oval, went Phillip's hand, his whole hand, into her tight little twat! The only difficult for him was that his thumb kept slipping and sliding off of the lever! But no matter, Lucy came anyway ... and came ... and came ... and CAME!

On the second come, Phillip liberated his seven inch cock, and jacked off right there on the floor and over Lucy! His sperm mixed with her cunny crest, and it was all he could do not to lick it all off of her, then and there!!

Not that he didn't fully intend to bed her at some later date but first he wanted to elicit her eternal and loyal devotion. Both to himself, and to his cause. The secret pride of Phillip's life was Master Manipulating Pussy. It was his fantasy turned reality, his spice of life, his "Cause". He drempt, thought, and most assuredly ate pussy. And, he was good at it. His second-favorite pastime was watching two lusty cunnies fuck one another. Hence, he loved "the mad room".

Chapter Seven

After Lucy was spent, she sank against the wall, her hands limp in their restraints, her head lolling in a sexual stupor. She still breathed deeply, and sighing moans, mixed with forbidden giggles, escaped her pink lips. He knew she was His, like so many sluts before her, as he stood and buried his manhood once more in his trousers. Leaving his girl for the time being, he returned to her Mother, who by this time was fully awake, and had been the unwilling listener to all that had gone on with her daughter. Her like blue eyes watched him pitifully, pleadingly, but his sympathies were silent. What the daughter had become, the Mother must now remember. Phillip saw all women as sluts, or potential sluts, but he liked it that way. He felt duty-bound to remind them of their true calling, no matter how wealthy they were, or how pure. It was a Man's World, after all, and Phillip intended that it should stay that way.

Unlike one of his contemporaries, however, a certain slayer nicknamed "Jack the Ripper", Phillip did not want all the whores to die. He preferred them to drip, and if possible, into his mouth! No use wasting good pussy!! Thus, he played his little Game with them, and to the victor went the spoils. Because with the Victory, came the Act of Submission, and all those sexy, naughty, lusty acts which followed. The performances of sexual slavery were Phillip's third-favorite thing. The Pussy, the Fuck and the Slavery all cavorted in the court of the King of Things ...Phillip's Penis.

To that magnificent end, or Head, Phillip began his work on Cornelia Andover. Knowing she was no virgin, though in her present obese state, it was hard for the man to imagine why Mr. Bradstone began his administration over Mrs. Andover's mountainous Bush. He began shoving the silver vibration bell in and out of her at a rate of speed to make even her bulk, twist and heave as the initial spasms hit her. At intervals, he would give her chances to catch her breath, as he did not want the old girl to have a fatal heart palpitation! He even removed the gag, to let her breath more easily. It did not matter a whit whether or not she screamed for help, as the entire room had been made soundproof long ago.

Just as Phillip thought his hand was going to drop off, she finally came in a long gush and a loud groan. She lay like a beached whale, white and helpless, moaning and muttering to herself. Phillip was intrigued, and leaned closer to hear what she was mumbling. At once, he straightened up and looked at her in some surprise and almost bewilderment.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God. Prey for ...." Damn, the old cow was praying! Not being a religious man, he rolled his eyes and turned away, thinking she didn't even appreciate a good orgasm when she got one. No wonder she was without husband! Widows were allowed to marry, after the appropriate mourning period had passed, even in Victorian society, but it was obvious that Mrs. Andover had no such fortune in store for her. You would think she would be grateful for a good fuck then, Phillip reasoned, not understanding her plight at all. It was likely to be the last one she would get in her lifetime, so he had actually done her a great service! A thought struck him, and he brightened. That was it! She must have been thanking the Almighty for her good fortune!

Phillip whistled as he undid Lucy's cuffs and let her supple nudeness fall into his arms. Her body was still warm from her prior exertions, and laced with perspiration. She was limp as a drunken kitten, still giggling, with the blissful, cunt-happy look that he knew and loved. It was time to wake her up though. Time to fire up her passion for what was to Come, literally. He carried her over to the iron chair and put her in it, securing her wrists on the arm clamps. He then pulled out the foot pedals and placed each foot on one. One to the right, one to the left as he moved the foot pedals, until her still steamy box was fully visible, and fully accessible. Her ankles were clamped as well, just in case she got any ideas of her own. Her hot twat was about to meet the butt of his whip!

When he began to slide the whip-handle inside her, instead of looking aghast, Lucy stared in fascination. She had no idea what this man was doing to her, but she had begun to realize it wasn't so bad after all. She wanted to find out more, so when she moved her cunt to meet its seducer. Phillip could only smile, thinking she had a long way to go, and a lot to learn about being a slave. But he wanted to instill in her complete trust and willingness, along with lust and loyalty. In the back of his perverted mind, Bradstone wanted every woman he knew to juice-up at the very sound of his name, to yearn for his sexual advances, and to give him Total Control of their minds and bodies, in his Come Hither Lair.

Chapter Eight

In and out, in and out, the handle went. Is carved shape causing unknown frictions inside her tunnel of love. She reacted exactly as any woman should, according to her Master:

"She wiggled her butt against the chair,
Wiggled her cunt on the butt in her hair!
She sang and squealed, like a good cunny should!
And bless my soul, it smelled so good!!
Her "squelches" and gurgles, I soon did hear,
As she screamed FUCK ME in my ear!
I can't imagine where she learned it,
But the word is a prophet, and she has earned it!
Oh, she shall be fucked, and by no other,
Than her doting, loving, big assed Mother!!
She is my Slave, and I am her Master,
And if I tell her, she will FUCK FASTER!
Her cunt I crave, and will bury my tool,
When she has graduated her Pussy School!!
For Slut she is and shall ever remain,
While I teach her to fuck one-and-the-same.
Then she and her pussy-girl will be
My own Personal Pussies, Belonging to Me!
I'll eat them for breakfast, for luncheon and tea,
And they will fuck my rod so thankfully,
For they know their Master is ruler of Slaves
Who are butt-fucked and doggied, while nothing they save!!
They will Nod in my presence, and lap at my balls,
And always remember to COME when I call!"

Phillip smiled to himself at his poetic prowess, which was only surpassed by his penis prowess, of course! Maybe, someday, he would even recite it to a group of willing and wet listeners!

This time, when Lucy was fucked, she did not flop. She had a hungry gleam in her eye, and the blush of "Bare-Assed-ment" in Bradstone terminology had long replaced the blush of embarrassment. He undid her once again and helped her stand up, reveling in the puddle of come that splattered on the floor from her hugely hanging lips. He only wished there were time for her to lick it all up for him.

He did not have to force Lucy to obey him this time. He instructed her to run over to her Mother, which she did. He couldn't resist hurrying her along though, by flicking her creamy-white ass with his little whip. She jumped and shrieked in utter delight, for each sting seemed to make her cunny even wetter. She had become what Phillip called "cunny-minded".

At the metal table, Cornelia at first sighed in relief at seeing that her daughter was alive, and apparently healthy, but she was not relieved to see why. She reddened over her normally pale cheeks, and groaned in dismay at the sight. Her head fell back, and Phillip feared that she was fainting again. She had not, but she heartily wished she had, as she witnessed what came next.

Chapter Nine

Phillip helped Lucy up onto the table, and onto her Mother's wide cunt. Lucy was not the least bit embarrassed, though she knew she was being excruciatingly BAD. She giggled and lowered herself until her small fur rested upon Mummy's big beaver. She did not exactly realize it, but subconsciously, she was getting her revenge for all the awfulness of being born in the wrong century, and for all the nagging and scolding her Mum had poured over her head in her growing up years. Well! Now, it was her turn to pour something equally "awful" over Mummy's head, and make her have it ... every hot drop!!

Mummy, on the other hand, thought only their present predicament was her fault, and cried, "I'm so sorry, Darling, so sorry! Forgive me, precious!"

At her Master's command to "Fuck Mummy!", Lucy did just that, and kept saying the words in a childish, sing song voice, like a taunt: "Fuck Mummy! Fuck Mummy! Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her!" she cried, looking at Phillip for his approval, as she moved back and forth, faster, faster, until both women were screaming. Phillip again took out his member and sat down to watch the show.

Lucy rolled her ass round and round over her Mother's squelching hole, panting and singing, "I'm a Pussy Fucker! I'm a Pussy Fucker! Pussy Pussyfucker!", in the same girlish taunt.

She had heard the words from her Master of course, but she liked saying them, over and over and over. Phillip shot his wad before the ladies finished cuming, but he didn't mind. He saw that Lucy didn't know what to do next, so her told her to turn herself about, so that her ass was over her Mummy face. This was exactly what Lucy wanted, also. She switched positions and lay on top, facing the hot hole before her Mummy's face, wondering if it would taste as good as it smelled. She soon found out, and so did her Mother.

Lucy pushed her cunt into Mummy's lips and yelled, "Clean your plate or no dessert!", and laughed. Cornelia had no choice but to obey. She began lapping at her daughter's gush, and though she would rather die than admit it, she secretly found it did taste delicious! Every time her tongue passed over Lucy's clit, the girl's ass bucked up and down. She moaned into Mummy's hole as she slurped and licked all she could reach, which was quite a bit. She wondered how Mummy could be such a sour puss when her Pussy was sooo sweet? It was puzzlement and she shoved it aside in her mind, concentrating solely on her given task. Lucy was having orgasm after orgasm, while her Mother's starved cunt followed suit. Phillip grinned at the fleshy undulation writhing before him. He wished he could have them all night, but time was fleeting.

At last, he got up and pulled Lucy's head up in mid-lick.

"Time to go home, little girl!", he ordered.

Lucy sat up, looking very disappointed, but didn't object otherwise. She had learned better. Master helped her slide down and gave her an old sheet to wipe herself clean and dry. As she slowly got dressed, Phillip assisted Mrs. Andover to her feet, and to dress, as she was quite stiff and wobbly. Bradstone had taken the precaution of securing extra clothing for Mrs. Andover to helped her to her feet, and to dress. Phillip assisted her, as she was quite stiff and wobbly, and in dressing. During this interim, he reminded her of all the reasons why she could never divulge her experience. Cornelia nodded numbly. The mere thought of anyone ever finding out was enough for her to take it to her grave!!

Phillip also told the woman that he would be requiring Lucy's "services" during other visits, but that Mummy need no longer is a party to anything. Cornelia looked almost shell shocked, but said nothing. Her daughter had fallen into the pit of hell, and there seemed nothing she could do about it. Meanwhile her Lucy finished dressed and whirled around for Phillip, smiling and rosy-cheeked. She just had to ask his permission for something, and hope he would allow her to return. She approached him a bit timidly, and looked at him like a puppy, begging for a treat.

"What is it, my dear?"

"I ... I have a question, Master.", she said softly.

He nodded at her to continue. She glanced at her mother and stepped back, indicating she did not want the woman to hear. Phillip went over to her, and they turned their backs, whispering as Mummy stood silently watching. A moment passed, and they turned back. Lucy's face was alight with anticipation, and Phillip was stroking her hair and kissing her first on the forehead, then the lips. They had made plans for her return, but there was also something else that Lucy had wanted. Phillip wished he could be there to share it, but perhaps it would come about, in time.

The ladies were escorted from the premises, just as the servants were returning from their day off. Mrs. Andover passed them all with a stony countenance. She was already pushing the whole sordid affair deep into the recesses of her mind. They climbed into their carriage, while Mr. Bradstone waived them Farewell and God Speed.

Chapter Ten

Later that night, alone in her sumptuous bedchamber, Lucy could not sleep. She had taken off her nightgown after her maid had left, and lay between the sheets naked once again, going over all the events of her undoing. Technically, she was still a virgin, and she wondered if she would ever have the chance to change this. She was thinking hotly of her Master's cock, when the door to her maid's room opened slightly. Lucy sat up, not caring now if she was seen to be naked. The maid entered, and stopped, staring wide-eyed at her mistress's disrobed state. She had come back to retrieve a personal item she had accidentally left behind, and thought she could slip in while Miss Lucy was sleeping.

Miss Lucy had other ideas. She boldly got out of bed and walked over to Annabelle. "Have you ever had pussy, Annabelle?", she asked in a breathy whisper.

"N ... no, Miss!", Annabelle answered, shocked at the word. She didn't know that real ladies knew such words.

"Well, it's time you did, my dear!", Lucy said, unconsciously mimicking her Master's voice. "Here, let me help you."

Before Annabelle knew what she was about, she found herself naked and in the sheets with her mistress. Her new Mistress.

***The End? Also, The Beginning?***




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