across his lap, pushing up her skirt and petticoat around her waist.
"What have we here, Miss Lydia? Silk drawers forsooth!"
"Mm, yes, Uncle Joe."
Lily's bottom felt deliciously vulnerable, thinly coated by the fine
smooth silk. It was almost more sensual than being naked. Joseph's
hand patted her buttocks and she squirmed, her pussy oozing juice.
He was an expert spanker, she could tell.
"What a wicked little girl you are, Miss Lydia."
"Yes, Uncle Joe."
Lily pushed her bottom up at Joseph and he continued to pat it
lightly, teasing her with a series of light, soft swats that only served to
make her bite her lip with frustration. Suddenly he took a firm grip on
the seat of her drawers and pulled them up tight and hard so that the
silk bunched and caught between her pussy lips and pressed against
her swollen clit.
Oh yes, I knew you were an expert at this, old boy!
"Ooh, Uncle Joe! Please don't hurt me!"
They were both enjoying themselves immensely. Again, Joseph
applied his free hand to patting Lily's buttocks lightly, all the time
maintaining a steady grip on her drawers. She could come through
that little game alone, the teasing little smacks and the constant
pressure of bundled, soaking silk against her clit. Lily began to moan
softly.
"Please spank me, Uncle Joe. I know I've been a bad girl. I
deserve all I get."
Joseph's response was to remove his hand altogether and Lily
squirmed, calling him rude names under her breath. She was
desperate to be spanked and fucked by the virile older man.
"What was that you called me, missy? A teasing bastard? I'll have
you know my mother was happily wedded when I was born!"
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Joseph's large firm hand descended on Lily's bottom with a
resounding crack and she squealed in surprise and pain.
"Let's see how well these fancy drawers are sewn, shall we?"
"Uncle Joe! My new silk drawers!"
Lily shrieked in mock dismay as Joseph ripped the flimsy
undergarment from her quivering buttocks.
"I'll teach you to respect your elders and betters!"
Lily buried her face in the rumpled quilt and parted her thighs so
her already swollen clit made good contact with the rough surface of
Joseph's long johns.
"Spank me hard, Uncle Joe. I know I've been a naughty little girl."
"Harrumph! Quite so, missy. Quite so."
Joseph's hand briefly caressed Lily's labia with a touch as light as
the brush of butterfly wings and she cried out, clasping handfuls of the
bedcovers in her excitement. Then, before she had time to draw
breath, he began to spank her very hard, so that she wriggled and
thrashed around, trying to escape the sharp, painful smacks. It was
impossible to avoid the punishment, as Joseph held her down quite
effortlessly with his left arm.
"Ow! Uncle Joe, that hurts!"
"Oh, does it, my dear?"
Lily's bottom swiftly turned crimson and her stockinged feet kicked
up behind her, the only part of her body that Joseph couldn't contain
with his massive strength. Every now and then he would pause and
stroke her buttocks softly, the tender gesture only making the ensuing
onslaught feel even more shocking. Pained tears sprang to her eyes
but the pleasure was foremost and growing moment by moment until
she thought her clitoris might burst. Rhythmically, she rubbed her
pussy against Joseph's wool-clad leg, arching her spine so his
spanking hand caught her as close to her dripping labia as possible.
Finally, Joseph stopped spanking and tumbled Lily onto the
disheveled bed. To her surprise, he crouched between her open legs
and began to lick and suck her pussy and it wasn't long before she
moaned in pleasure, climaxing hard beneath the older man's
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experienced tongue. He sat back on his heels, his mouth and chin
coated with her glistening juice.
"Nothing nicer than a piece of cunny pie!"
Lily gasped, her pussy still contracting in tiny aftershocks. She had
rarely experienced a man who enjoyed cunnilingus. Usually, it was
the girls who offered her that pleasure. Joseph pulled his rigid cock
out of his long johns.
Joseph lay on his back and Lily straddled him, enjoying the way
she had to spread her thighs wide and tight to cover his broad torso.
His thick rod easily slipped inside her and she almost cursed Charlie
Dunn-Keith. Joe James was far from small but most men's tackle
would be dwarfed by Charlie's equine shaft. Moaning in pleasure, she
began to bounce up and down, the old springs in the bed creaking and
squeaking in a noisy protest. Goodness knows what the other
occupants of the King's Arms would think but she didn't really care.
She was going to have another orgasm.
"Faster, my lovely! Ride it hard!"
Joseph thrust his hips up to meet Lily's down-strokes and she
clenched her pussy muscles hard around his thick moist cock. He had
made her so wet with his "cunny pie" eating that she was in danger of
slipping right off.
"Oh yes, Uncle Joe! Oh, yes!"
His rod was massaging her insides in all the right places. Waves of
intense pleasure coursed through her slick, swollen quim. Suddenly
Joseph tensed his body and bawled like a bull.
"Aarrgh!"
Lily's second orgasm came fast on the heels of Joseph's and she
pumped his erupting shaft with her slippery cunt until he began to
subside inside her.
"What a wicked little girl you are, Miss Lydia. I knew it when I
first set eyes upon you."
Lily looked down at Joseph's twinkling blue eyes. She wondered
whether he would forbid her to see Rosina. As if he had read her
mind he continued: "I would like to see you again, my dear, but I must
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insist that you do not call at my house again. My daughter is a good
girl, as you know, and I want her to stay that way, without any
improper influences."
Lily clenched her teeth but said nothing. If only he knew that his
dear sweet little girl knew most of the tricks in the sensual book
thanks to a classical education from Mr. Lawrence Faulkner. It was
always the same. Bad girls for wild, untrammeled pleasure; good
girls for "keeping up appearances". She sighed.
"I understand, Mr. James."
"Now, don't pout, my girl. I had a grand time, as, I suspect, did
you, Miss Lydia. I'd like to do this again, if it can be arranged."
Lily climbed off the bed, fastening her bodice and straightening her
crumpled skirt. Her torn drawers lay on the floor and she stooped to
pick them up. Joseph patted her on the head like a small child.
"I'll pay for those, my dear."
"Oh, don't worry, I can mend them. Will you send for a cab to take
me home, please? I'm not sure where we are."
"But of course, my dear."
Lily made herself presentable and slipped out to the inn's courtyard,
leaving Joseph to settle up with the landlord. She ignored the snorts
of amusement f
rom several customers who had obviously overheard
the racket they had made in bed. She felt strangely annoyed with
Joseph James but how could she have expected him to accept her as a
friend for Rosina? There were two worlds, like day and night and she
belonged to the latter, darker side. At least Rosina had received her
whispered news of the message from Lawrence. Her pussy ached and
tingled as she climbed into the cab that Joseph ordered and paid for.
"I'm sorry, Mr. James, but I'd better not see you again."
"As you prefer, Miss Lydia, as you prefer. Well, we've had a
lovely time of it. God bless."
Lily smiled politely at Joseph as the cab moved off, en route to
Bloomsbury. She would have loved to see the man again, with his
powerful body and liking for eating "cunny pie" but she was
developing a strong aversion to hypocrisy. She'd see Rosina again
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and give the darling girl's sweet little cunny such a licking that she
wouldn't be able to sit for a week...
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CHAPTER XVI
NIGHT TERRORS
When Lily returned to Sophie's rooms in Gower Street she found a
note tucked behind the clock on the mantelpiece. It seemed that an
old friend had whisked Sophie away for a festive outing and that she
sprawling childish hand on rose scented writing paper and signed off
with a typically generous instruction for Lily to "help herself to
anything she liked". There was certainly plenty of everything and
Lily would not be deprived of anything but the vivacious blonde's
company. She sat down on a sofa, the note still in her hand.
Christmas and the one thing I'd really like has gone to Colchester.
Lily smiled to herself. She had become very fond of Sophie. Her
stomach suddenly growled with hunger and she made herself a good
supper from the remains of the Christmas luncheon, washed some
dishes in the tiny scullery and went to bed.
* * * *
What was that?
Lily woke with a start and sat up in bed. The rooms were silent
except for the faint hiss of the coals in the bedroom fireplace. Almost
holding her breath, she strained her ears to listen. Something had
awakened her from a sound sleep – but what?
There it is again.
Someone or something was moving around in the sitting room.
Lily's heart skipped a beat then began to pound with fear. A thief.
She wondered what she should do. Generous Sophie would be more
concerned about Lily's safety than the loss of a few Christmas gifts
but it seemed wrong just to let the swine get away with it.
Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the bedroom to
the fireplace. Picking up the poker and the shovel, she crept to the
bedroom door and placed her ear against it. Silence.
Has he already gone?
To Lily's horror, the door handle began to turn and she stepped
back, flattening herself against the wall, clutching the fire irons.
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Slowly, the door opened and a person entered the room. Lily stood
trembling, her presence concealed by the open door. She could not
see who was there, only hear his slow, slightly rasping breaths. Quiet
footsteps crossed the room and paused for what seemed like an
eternity.
Please go away.
Lily willed the thief to leave. What was he doing?
"Where are you, my pretty?"
The stranger's voice sent a shiver down Lily's spine. She gripped
the fire irons even tighter, her entire body shaking with a potent mix
of fear and anger.
"Are you in the wardrobe?"
There was the soft click of the huge mahogany wardrobe's door
being opened and a rustling of clothing.
"Or are you under the bed?"
The footsteps re-crossed the room and the bed frame creaked and
squeaked as the intruder leaned on it to check beneath.
Lily could bear it no longer. Furious, she stepped out from behind
the bedroom door, brandishing the poker and coal shovel.
"I'm here. Who wants me?"
At that moment a shaft of moonlight illuminated the stranger's face
and Lily shrank back, until her back pressed against the wall. The
man was grotesque, half his face disfigured by some terrible disease
or accident of birth. Smiling dreadfully, he advanced upon her, a
menacing figure in a voluminous black cloak. The fire irons slipped
from Lily's limp fingers as she slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
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CHAPTER XVII
BOUND AND HELPLESS
When Lily came to, she became gradually aware of the steady
rumbling, jolting rhythm of a horse-drawn vehicle. Horrified, she
discovered that she lay, trussed like a game bird, on the floor of a
hansom cab. A rich fur cape had been carelessly thrown on the cold,
draughty floor and its luxuriant softness caressed her face, throat and
naked breasts.
Where is he taking me?
Thoughts of white slavery entered Lily's mind and she tried her best
to loosen the tight rope binding her wrists and ankles but to no avail.
She was well and truly captured. No amount of wriggling and flexing
her body against her bonds would make the slightest difference.
You idiot, Lily Warnock. You bloody fool. How will you get out
of this?
Eventually, the bumping movement of the cab ceased and Lily
heard the driver climb down from his seat and open the door. Grimly,
she determined to face up to whatever horrors might be in store for
her. Heavily gauntleted hands grasped her body as if she were
nothing more than a side of beef and she was roughly thrown over the
driver's shoulder.
"Don't bother trying to scream for help, missy. There's no one to
hear you."
They seemed to be in a dark alleyway. Tall brick walls closed in on
either side, totally windowless, sooty and shabby looking, like an
disused factory. Lily forced herself to examine her surroundings in
the most careful detail but she had to admit that she could be
anywhere in the vast city. Tears of frustration entered her eyes and
she began to kick her bound feet against the driver's body. He merely
laughed, a harsh mocking sound that made her blood run cold.
"Kick away, little miss. There'll be no more kicking, where you're
going."
What could he mean? They came to a narrow door in the wall and
the driver knocked three times. It was opened almost immediately by
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a shadowy figure who closed it very promptly behind them, almost
trapping Lily's trailing nightgown.
"Help me!"
She had found her voice but it was too late for cries. Her captor
effortlessly carried her down a dim passageway and up a seemingly
endless spiral staircase. Around and around the wrought-iron cage
ascended, allowing murky views of empty galleries and a vast pit of
blackness below. It appeared to be an old factory of some kind, as she
had suspected. Her captor's gauntleted hand began to caress her
bottom through her nightgown and she tried to bite h
im, her teeth
catching impotently on the heavy oilskin of his cape.
"Home again, home again, jiggety-jig."
The driver kicked open another door. Inside, there was nothing but
an inky, velvety darkness.
Oh no, not that. Please, not that.
Lily was thrown onto a soft, yielding surface that appeared to be a
mattress.
"The master will be in to visit you shortly. See that you behave
respectfully. I'd hate to see that pretty little face scarred for life."
Lily lay shivering violently in the freezing cold room. She was
uncertain how much time passed – was it minutes or an hour? – then
there was a quiet click of a door opening and footsteps entered the
room. Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end and her skin
crept with gooseflesh, as if she knew, sight unseen, that she was in the
presence of evil. Gloved hands touched her chilled body, tracing a
slow, tormenting pattern down the length of her spine. Her heart
lurched in her chest and she moaned, a low, frightful sound like a
cornered animal.
"It's you, isn't it? It's you..."
"Oh, my dear demonic Miss Lily. I'm gratified that you remember
me so well."
The American's voice echoed in her head, a terrible sound that had
haunted her worst nightmares. Lily writhed in anguish.
"Why? Why me? Why this?"
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"Why not, Miss Lily? There are so many wicked girls in this vast
cesspit of a city. If I had my way, I'd have them all burned at the
stake. In death, there is hope of redemption. But you... You are a
little different, are you not? You are a whore, it's true, but there is
something more. The Lord forgive me, I desire you, Miss Lily. I
desire to redeem you, to make you atone for your sins."
Hypocrite! Monstrous hypocrite.
The American slowly stroked Lily's body from the nape of her neck
to her ankles. She shuddered, in horror and disgust rather than
arousal. Again, she felt herself close against him, as if her mind were
building a wall, brick by brick, to keep him out.
"Your atonement will begin tomorrow. I will instruct Poole to
release you from your bonds. You cannot escape. Adieu, sweet
Lily."
When the door closed, Lily's defenses crumbled and she burst into