Em It is 1823. In Lancashire England.
“Look I would rather die than marry Archie Cuthbole,” Cousin Emily said forcibly after dinner one evening.
“Em, you have no fortune, you have little choice,” I explained in my “big Brother” role, “He is a worthy suitor.”
“He is decrepit and disgusting, I should rather be a street walking whore than marry him!” she snapped.
“For gods sake talk sense girl,” father insisted, “You’re my ward now John has disappeared with that tart and your mother has returned to Northumbria, and if I say you’ll marry Archie then marry him you shall!”
She sulked. Not even a suggestion of a game of chess cheered her.
“I’m eighteen, why should I throw my life away?” she asked as I tried to console her.
“Because you are not yet twenty one years of age or married,” I explained, “Therefore you must do as father says, you are too immature to know your own mind.”
“I do so, I want to be a concubine dressed in silks and satin for all men to stare at and drive them wild.” she suggested.
“You have no idea,” I snapped, “Concubines and streetwalkers have an awful time, abused from dusk till dawn. Serving wenches dressed like princesses, and then as they lose the bloom of youth they walk the streets and fornicate down back alleys. They leave their offspring at the church gates and finally they end up dead or in the workhouse.”
“Yet they stay, they don’t run away do they?” she challenged, “Well do they?”
“They have nowhere else to go,” I explained.
“And how do you know so much?” she demanded.
“I have been to Madame L’Oiseaux’s establishment in Salford on occasions.” I admitted.
“Really!” she gasped delightedly, “Shall you take me?”
“Rather like taking one’s own ale to an ale house,” I laughed.
“No, really, I should like to see, to see, if I liked it.” she said, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Oh, very well. I shall have a word,” I agreed.
Now to be honest I had no intention of so doing but Em kept nagging me and finally threatened to go on her own. I relented.
I went to see Mme L’Oiseaux at her establishment. I had been as a customer some time previously when unbeknown to me my chums had arranged a special treat for my eighteenth birthday. An angel had attended me and I had become a man.
It was with considerable trepidation that I approached Madame.
She listened with ill concealed glee, “A virgin, she wishes to join my establishment!”
“She wishes to see for herself,” I explained.
“She is a noblewoman? yes?” she asked, “Not a servant, an educated young lady?”
“Yes, educated yes, sensible no.” I assured her, “One sight of your clientele and she will run a mile!”
“Indeed Monsieur, they are not, how do you say, comely,” she sighed, “I have to dream that they look like Greek gods as they paw me and use me,” she looked at me wistfully, “They do not begin to compare with you cherie.”
“I thank you Madame,” I said nervously.
“Do not worry, I shall not leap on your cock!” she laughed, “I prefer ladies these days, ones with tiny fists which do not shoot their bolts and go soft before I am sated.”
“Then you will help us?” I asked.
“For a small consideration,” she agreed.
Fortunately I had been lucky at cards recently and the sum was within my means, just.
“Tomorrow evening then. Six of the clock.” she ordered.
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Em was delighted, “Oh thank god,” she sighed, “I did not want to go alone.”
We made up a tale about visiting a friend and actually set forth just after luncheon the next day.
We idled round the town for a while and arrived at six of the clock precisely.
Madame greeted us like long lost friends, “Come in, come in!” she beamed, “So you wish to be part of my maison of love, cherie?”
“Oui Madame,” Em replied. Madame looked concerned. I had long suspected her knowledge of French was scanty at best.
“Speak English Em you know I don’t understand French,” I chided.
“Oui, we speak only English and the international language of love here,” Madame explained, “Come see the other girls!” she invited us before shewing Em through to a little sitting room. Girls sat round in their night dresses, “C’est Monique, Chantal, Ariadne, Violette, Francois, Annette,” she introduced Em to them, “Emily wishes to join us or should I say Estelle.”
The girls said very little, Madame beckoned one to join us, “Francoise s’il vous plait,” and we left the sitting room and retired to madame’s little dressing room.
“We had better find you a suitable gown cherie, Francoise, what size is Estelle do you think?”
“Perfect Madame,” Francoise agreed, “Like Monique?”
“Oui, like Monique, undress cherie,” Madame requested.
“What, with John watching?” Em protested.
“Why of course, gentlemen enjoy watching us disrobe, you must practice until you can make them wild with anticipation,” Madame encouraged her.
“So they spill their seed in their breeches,” Francoise muttered, “Not in us.”
Em went to remove her shawl and before she had even set it down Francoise was busy undoing the laces at her back. The heavy gown fell forward baring Ems sweet pink mounds. Em cupped her breasts
with her hands to hide them but Francoise gently pulled Ems hands away, holding them firmly behind her.
“Is she not, ah sexy as they say?” Madame asked.
“Rather!” I said eagerly
“Only rather, not very sexy or extremely?” Madame asked,.
Em’s gown slipped down her arms showing ever more of her charms as from somewhere Francoise took a strip of silken fabric, and as the gown fell so she bound Em’s wrists behind her with the soft silken cord .
“W’what are you doing?” Em asked with considerable concern.
“It is for your own good cherie,” Madame said. “Now stand still.”
Em squirmed away, but Monique held her, Her arms under Em’s shoulders crossing over to cup Em’s breasts as Madame reached around and pushed Em’s gown to the floor.
Em rocked as Francoise pulled her back and she had no choice but to step out of her gown.
She stood helpless in her underskirt, boots and stockings, “Have you changed your mind Cherie?” Madame asked.
“No!” Em said defiantly though she looked absolutely terrified.
“Have you had any cock yet? John maybe?” Madame asked.
“No!” Em insisted.
“Not in your ass or mouth or puss?” Madame asked again.
“No!” Em said.
“Then you must learn to please a cock,” Madame insisted. “ John your cock please.”
“Here hang on a moment,” I cautioned, “This was not part of he deal.”
“No but it is a bonus,” Madame insisted, “Now drop your breeches so Francoise may wash your cock.”
“Look,” I said.
“If you will not I am sure there are other gentlemen willing to pay handsomely, fat ugly men?” Madame suggested.
“I should rather it was John,” Em said quietly.
I had no choice but to do as they asked. My cock reared as Francois began to wash him tenderly with warm water and scented soap.
“Now kneel before your master the cock and take him in your mouth and suck,” Madame ordered.
Em looked apprehensive but she knelt and kissed the eye of my cock.
“C’est perfect mon cherie,” Madame approved, “Now take him deeply in your mouth, breathe through your nose and suck gently and take him to heaven.”
Ems lips closed around my knob end, then relaxed. I held her head in my hands and pulled her on to my cock. She choked.
“Breathe through your nose,” Madame reminded her.
Em gagged. I eased my cock further in, “Breathe silly girl,” I whispered.
“She is a natural!” Madame praised her, “Now suck my dear, draw the seed out , enrage his senses with your tongue, give yourself to him, give yourself to your lord the cock!”
It was not the most eloquent way to instruct Em but her breathing was now steady and she looked incredibly beautiful with her mouth wide open and filled to the brim with my cock.
“Enough or he will spill his seed,” Madame ordered, “You are virgo intacto?”
Em stopped sucking and allowed me to extract my cock. She nodded.
“Excellent!” Madame declared
I stood there like an idiot with my cock at full stretch but only for a moment. At a sign from Madame so Francois slapped me around the face with a cold wet cloth. My member shrank instantly from the shock. “What did you do that for?” I demanded.
“To cool your ardour of course,” Madame laughed, “Now you must leave us, we have women’s work to do.”
“What?” I asked.
“Do not ask but have something to eat and recover your strength,” Francois said knowingly, “Return in one hour, yes?”
There was a tavern next door, I pulled up my breeches, made myself decent and went thence where I sampled a steak and ale pie, though I doubt it contained any steak and precious little ale before returning on the hour.
Madame would not see me, “We are not ready!” she insisted, “Wait in the blue room.”
and when I went to go she added, “Take this.”
A slip of paper with a number on it. 145.
The Blue room was the big room, formerly the main reception room when the bordello had been a town house. The walls were blue and at one end was a raised platform where skits and the like might be performed, Chairs largely focused upon the platform and a good few coves were seated there already. A centre aisle led from the door to the platform so one might make quite an entrance.
Quite a few Ladies were also seated, Madame’s Ladies you understand, not fine ladies. Seated with gentlemen prior to retiring upstairs to their various chambers for the act of love, or what ever parts of the act of love the gentlemen was prepared to pay for.
There was an air of expectancy. Then the door opened and the most exquisitely beautiful creature I have ever seen was pushed into the room.
She was masked, a gilded face piece with ostrich feathers. Her gown was exquisite in turquoise with shimmering gem stones, flowing to the floor and beyond to form a train, but cut away so that from her shoulders it showed her beautiful shapely mounds before closing across her middle and opening again so her woman’s parts and indeed the front of her legs were entirely bare. I stared. He woman’s parts were completely shaved like a new born.
It had to be Em. By god she was beautiful. Madame led her to the platform whereon I saw a bed had been placed, a bed with sparkling white sheets.
She swayed slightly as she walked. Nerves. Madame, Francois and two other Ladies accompanied her. She sat on the bed edge and Madame had her spread her legs to afford the crowd a better view of her private places.
Francois stepped forward and gently eased back Em’s puss lips so the throng could see, or imagine, the virgin skin behind.
“Do you have your tickets?” Madame enquired, “For the lucky number is?” One of the women reached inside a tub and extracted a ticket.
“Numero Un Quatre Cinq, One hundred and forty five” she announced.
It rang a bell, 145, in my pocket. Oh my lord they had fiddled the auction for Em’s honour so I might be her first.
Oh good god, I feared I might not be up to the task. But my member was straining against my belt, I now feared I might shoot my bolt before I could divest myself of my breeches and impale her.
“One four five!” I cried and lunged from my chair loosening my breeches as I did so.
Of course I tripped and would have fallen on my face except fortunately I fell on some bloated elderly gentleman which broke my fall, though it upset him most considerably.
“One four five,” I shouted again, holding my loosened breeches with one hand as I did so.
“Indeed One Four Five,” Madame agreed, “Enjoy your prize Mosieur.”
Em still sat on the edge of the bed. Her legs still spread.
A more considerate lover might have kissed her and made her feel less nervous but I was seriously intoxicated with lust. I could no more resist for a second than fly to the moon.
I merely rested the tip of my member against her slightly parted woman’s parts and pressed firmly.
A cry like a tiny bird showed I had claimed her. A second thrust and a third and I was entirely sheathed, my breeches round my ankles still, my shirt still buttoned and my jacket still on. Francois helped divest me of jacket and shirt as I ploughed Em. Unbuttoning the shirt with her dainty fingers until my chest was bare and I felt Ems bullet hard nipples and her soft yielding breasts against my chest.
“Oh god,” Em husked, “I am on fire!”
“Then allow me to quench your fires,” I suggested and with that I let fly. Seemingly gallons of my seed gushed forth within her.
“Oh no!” Em protested, “Oh what have you done!”
“He has spilled his seed, that is all,” Madame explained, “Do you see how inconsequential the act of love is? To feel loved we ladies need more than any man can provide, why Francoise can serve a dozen men in a single hour can you not cherie?”
“Of course madame, and when you use both places then more than ten,” she confirmed.
“One in front and one behind and one in your mouth is perfect,” another lady named Michelle added, and two more with their members in your hands.
“Really?” Em gasped.
“But now we much auction your back passage,” Madame explained “Thank you monsieur, that will be all,” she thanked me and I staggered away while trying to dress.
By the time I looked round Em was kneeling over the bed end, her gown gone and her backside high in the air.
Gentlemen were bidding a ridiculous amount until finally a portly drunken person elevated to the peerage who is well known as a fornicator but whose name I am forbidden to repeat found himself the highest bidder.
He stepped forward, his patent breeches parted easily with a patent zipping fastener down the front and up the rear to let his modest appendage swing free and then with some difficulty, assisted by his batman and a lady he mounted the platform and attempted to mount Em.
Her brown hole was more resistant than her front. Time and again he pressed until he entered somewhat more than a fraction and thereupon shot his bolt.
He seemed well enough satisfied. Another auction and another cove tried to mount her back passage, lubricated now with the first gentleman’s seed her anus gave up the unequal struggle and allowed him deep inside her. Em cried out but whether in pleasure or pain none could know. Another auction.
The ranks were thinning, gentlemen were roused and sought Ladies with which to consort privately, just a few remained hopeful that Em’s passage would remain tight enough to thrill them.
Em quietly entreated Madame for mercy. “One moment,” Madame exclaimed and they rushed Em to Madame’s quarters for a moment.
“And what am I bid?” Francois enquired as she now took Em’s place.
Polite banter ensued but Em was brought back. Naked now but for her mask once again to take her place but now something protruded from her womb, a stick, as large round as any male appendage, and another larger still in her brown hole.
She took Francois place and the next gentleman came behind her. His member and the stick together inside her was altogether too much. Poor Em gasped with uncontrolled delight as the sensations wracked her brain until a fine mist squirted from her as her very first orgasmic moment filled her entire being with pleasure.
Madame held her hand, “Enjoy, this is your future Mon Cherie.” she cooed.
The crowd were getting bored, “Now show us how you excite yourself Mon Cherie!” Madame suggested.
She helped Em down from the platform and had her sit on the floor, she helped Em pull the stick from her puss and move it to her anus and then suggested Em explore herself with her fingers.
“Form a circle, feel free to relieve yourselves gentlemen,” Madame suggested.
In a moment of so it seemed a circle of men formed around her, their appendages extracted from their breeches and held in shaking hands as they watched transfixed.
“Caress yourself, your puss, your tits, move upon the mighty rod,” Madame cajoled and then with a flourish she opened her own gown and stepped closer to Em so her puss was inches from Em’s face. “Lick me darling.”
Em tentatively licked Madame’s puss, unaware that madame had recently had a pint of port wine poured within her, and found the taste most agreeable and began to lick and kiss her hungrily, but for a moment only as the men were driven wild and spurts of silver seed began to surge and gurgle forth splattering poor Em’s naked body.
“Try for her mouth!” Madame laughed, her eyes, her nose!”
Em glistened with men’s seed, she looked despoiled, sullied and spent, “If any can get his seed in her mouth he can have her for the rest of the evening!” Madame laughed.
Em looked at me, she stood and came to me, took my appendage in her mouth and sucked.
My seed flowed like a river and she made sure everyone saw before she sucked me dry.
“Take me home John,” she said, “Please.”
She walked decisively towards Madame’s room. She wiped the worst of the slime from her body and threw off the mask while still gently fingering her puss.
“Do you want me John?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes Em, I love you,” I confessed.
“And you will marry me because if you do not I own I shall be quite content, nay, very content indeed to become a whore if Madame will have me.
“Yes Em. I will marry you,” I agreed.
“Excellent, for I fear the life of a whore would not suit, especially when men choose other ladies, it is very hurtful,” Madame confessed, “But here is your share of the earnings for tonight, I take half you have the other, I think that is fair.”
Madame handed me a large bag of gold coins, “Your wife was very popular,” she laughed.
Em pulled her own gown on, her boots as well but handed me her underskirt and stockings for safe keeping.
We bade Madame farewell and hailed a hansom cab as we had money in excess, and ordered him to take us home.
He dropped us at the end of the drive.
“John,” Em said as the cart clattered away.
“I feel neglected, my puss feels empty,” Em complained.
“Are you insatiable?” I asked,
“I have a wooden shaft up my bottom exciting me remember,” she said, “And the cart made me feel really squiffy.”
She lofted her robe. Her puss glistened in moonlight. In trice my breeches were down and we were one once more.
The wooden shaft clattered to the floor and I started to pound her. “Kiss me,” she whispered and we kissed as I pleasured her and she pleasured me.
The clouds scudded across the moon as I shot my bolt once more and then we were away to the house and the inquisition as to where we had been.
“Where have you been?” Father asked.
“Oh the brothel in town, “ Em explained, “John showed me how the ladies and men conjoin and afterwards we tried it for ourselves and found it very pleasant.”
“You did what?” Father asked.
“Fornicated, and John pushed a ebony shaft up my bottom to heighten the pleasure,” Em said, “And afterwards he asked me to marry him!”
“Oh you brazen hussy!” Mother protested.
“Sounds much like the way you seduced me Marjory,” father admitted, “Well solves the Cuthbole problem, he won’t want you if you’re not pure and it will stop John’s wenching so well done I hope you will both be very happy!”
“Richard!” Mother protested, “Is that all you have to say?”
“No, Em,you share John’s bed from now on as it will be one less room to heat and one less fire for the maid to light.We can’t afford to waste coal.
Em giggled, Mother looked daggers. I just wanted to go to bed. With Em.