Statuesque

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by Chera Zade


  “Prepare? But what does that mean?”

  “You'll find out tomorrow night. Until then, sweet dreams, Miss Halliday. Lawson will arrange for your ride home.”

  ***

  Prepare.

  The word hung there as both threat and lure. And somehow Gillian suspected it was both.

  If she found sleep difficult the night she met Lord Carrington, it was doubly so now- her bottom still terribly tender.

  But it wasn't her bottom that gave her the most difficulty.

  No, it was her rapid heartbeat- the possibility that Lord Carrington actually had been attracted to her after all.

  And his bodily response-- well her fingers could not help but to try to imagine what it would be like for his body to get to know hers on a much more intimate level.

  Chapter 19- The Next Day

  Carrington

  “Carrington,” Lord Standish greeted his friend, who had just left his card table. “Just the man I was looking for.”

  “No one here is playing deep enough to hold my interest anyway. Suppose it’s that time of the night to look for deeper play. Shall we make the trip to the Infernalis Club?”

  “But of course. Although I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Is that scullery maid in need of another spanking?”

  “Should she be?”

  “That one should always be spanked until she kicks uncontrollably. Her cunt was quite wet and swollen by the end of it.”

  “It was hard to tell which of you wanted the fuck more.”

  “And yet you dismissed me. Unfair Standish. I spanked her, I ought to have been given a chance to bury my cock deep inside that tight little cunt.”

  “Tighter than you think.”

  “Rub it in, why don’t you? Perhaps I should set up a club of my own- never thought you’d be the type who wouldn’t share a juicy wench.”

  “Oh, I would have had no qualms about sharing her. If I had taken the fuck.”

  “Are you mad? Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t take her? Standish, her cunt was absolutely throbbing with need. If only I’d gotten a glimpse of her swollen clit, I swear I would have gotten down on my knees and spread her thighs over my face.”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t do that either. A tempting wench, certainly, but when I took her in, it was under agreement that she was to be left a maiden until--”

  “You cannot continue to tell me that maid is a maiden! It is impossible!”

  “And yet, it is the truth.”

  “And the price of her maidenhead?”

  “Since when did you have any interest in maidens?”

  “Since that one. Memorable wench. The last time my hands were kept that busy overnight, I had not yet experienced fucking.”

  “Have they recovered?”

  “Tolerably well. No trouble gripping the reins when I was in the park earlier.”

  “Good, you’ll need a steady hand for the favor I ask.”

  “So it is another spanking! By all means, maiden or not, I’d love to have her over my lap again.”

  “Not a spanking. Another skill set entirely. Seeing how she had such a curiosity for the club, it seemed rather unfair to keep her restricted to the kitchens. I’ve come up with a new position for her.”

  “I can think of quite a few positions that I would like to get her in--”

  “Virgin, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember. And you know as well as I do just how many positions there are that wouldn’t risk her maidenhead.”

  “Yes, but those are rewards that she will have to earn.”

  “How?”

  “By being a good statue.”

  “A statue?”

  “They are all the thing amongst the seedier establishments. At some point, I believe I shall also introduce a show- one of those tableaux vivants. But for her, she must start as a statue.”

  “Her flesh was far too pink and far too warm to pass for marble.”

  “Rice powder is supposed to do the trick.”

  “Exactly how statue-like do you expect her to be?”

  Standish smiled. “You're familiar with the classical form. It isn't my favorite, but it will appeal to many.”

  “Ah, and that’s where I come in?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t quite phrase it that way. But seeing as how that’s one of your areas of expertise...”

  “Most definitely. And I shall quite enjoy the task. As well as the view upon completion.”

  Chapter 20

  Gillian

  The day went slowly, oh, far too slowly. Every swish of her skirts reminded her of her scorched bottom. For once she was glad that Cousin Mary's demands left her little time to sit. And then finally it was night. And once again she found herself sneaking out of Shreve House and headed to that mysterious mansion on St. James.

  And soon enough, Lord Standish was ushering her into the a private bedchamber.

  She felt her knees wobble as she entered the room. She was not only alone with two large gentleman, the most prominent piece of furniture in the room was a large four poster bed.

  She felt a trickle of fear down her spine, as she suddenly had grave misgivings about what was to occur in this room.

  Lord Standish put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I stand by my word- Your maidenhead shall not be disturbed.”

  “B-but the—“

  “The bed? Yes, it will be easier to do the job if you are lying on your back. And a bed with posts helps in case you have trouble keeping still,” Lord Carrington said.

  “But no one will attempt to--”

  Lord Standish shook his head. “I have told Lord Carrington that I will inspect you afterward. If he has convinced you to surrender yourself fully, then he can expect to be married to you from my own house, at pistol length if need be.”

  She nodded, slightly reassured by his words, yet more than a bit nervous about the idea of being subjected to an inspection afterward. The idea of the handsome and authoritative Lord Standish looking at such an intimate part of her gave her a surprising tickle between her legs.

  For a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if it would be best to just let Lord Carrington seduce her on the bed, if in doing so he would soon be calling her his wife. But, she couldn’t. Not only because she still wanted to think of herself as a good girl, but also because she could not bear to be married on such terms. She would want a husband who married her out of love, not because he had been forced into matrimony.

  “Do you find the arrangement satisfactory?”

  “Must you inspect me?”

  “Yes. I cannot leave you alone with Lord Carrington under any other circumstances.”

  “Alone? You are really to leave us?”

  “I need to be quite careful in my work,” Lord Carrington said, “it is not a job I can perform before an audience.”

  “One isn’t an audience,” she protested.

  “An observer, then, if you are arguing my vocabulary choice. What really matters is whether you wish to avoid accidental injury.”

  “Yes, I do understand the need for that,” she nodded.

  “The inspection will be brief?” She asked Lord Standish expectantly.

  “As brief or as thorough as I decide is needed.”

  “My Lord,” she implored him, “do consider that such an exercise will be quite— quite mutually embarrassing.”

  “Mutually embarrassing?” He shook his head, unable to suppress a sly smirk. “No, I don’t believe I shall be embarrassed at all by such a proceeding. And as for your embarrassment— well, let us just say that the more embarrassed you appear, the longer and more thoroughly I shall have to inspect you— just to make certain I have the right of it where your virginity is concerned.”

  “That isn’t fair!”

  “Oh, it’s quite fair. People are only embarrassed when they have something to hide. If you do not surrender your virginity, in violation of my rule, then you have nothing to hide from me.”

  “
Nothing to hide? My most intimate places are surely something to hide!”

  He shook his head. “Not amongst friends who only care for your well being, Miss Hall--, er, um, Gillian.” He stopped himself just before he accidentally revealed her full surname. He turned to Lord Carrington to determine how much he had just put at risk.

  “Tsk, Standish, can’t keep the names of your help straight? I can assure you, Miss Hall, Miss Gillian Hall, that I’ll never get your name wrong. And I’ll see to it that you’ll make an excellent statue,” Lord Carrington said.

  “Do you truly think so?” She asked, surprised by the compliment.

  “You think I didn’t get a good glimpse of those curvy legs of yours when I had you bent over my lap? And don’t question my compliment, it is insulting.”

  “I-I did not mean to insult you. I just- I am not in the habit of receiving compliments, particularly about my appearance.”

  “I can imagine things are dreary as a scullery maid, but how deep into the scullery did they have you? Anyone who looks at you can see that you’re a beautiful wench.”

  “A beautiful wench.” Lord Carrington had just called her a beautiful wench. “A beautiful wench,” she repeated the words aloud, savoring their sound.

  “Yes. And you are going to show me precisely how beautiful you are—I’m sure that uniform barely hints at your treasures.”

  “It is time, Miss Hall, for me to leave you in the care of Lord Carrington.”

  Chapter 21

  Gillian

  “So, alone at last,” Lord Carrington said, turning toward her.

  She took a deep breath. Only in her dreams had she imagined them in a bedchamber together, completely unchaperoned.

  “Do you understand what we are going to do here?”

  “Lord Standish said you would prepare me to be a human statue.”

  “Yes, and as a statue, you would be expected to— are you familiar with the Elgin marbles?”

  She shook her head.

  “Any exposure to any other Greek or Roman carvings or statues?”

  “Aunt said that such heathen peoples were- were--”

  “Yes?”

  “Lewd. Base. Obscene,” she whispered.

  “By some people’s standards, perhaps.”

  “Not yours?”

  “Most definitely not. Do you know why your Aunt has that view?”

  She shook her head.

  “The ancient peoples were quite comfortable carving statues of people in their natural state.”

  “Natural?”

  “Without dress.”

  “In their undergarments?”

  He shook his head. “With nothing but that which they were born wearing.”

  She gasped. “But surely a fig leaf--”

  “Without even a single fig leaf. And, without even that fleecy covering that fringes a woman's--”

  Her eyes widened, and she took a huge gulp of air. “You- you cannot mean--”

  He nodded. “In all the marbles, the ladies are completely bare. A smooth mound.”

  “B-but--”

  “You are not made like a statue,” he said. “I understand. But if you are to become a statue, you must surrender your little pelt.”

  Her face burned hot. How could she be having such a conversation? What they had discussed already would be enough to be restricted to her bedchamber for the rest of her life.

  “I-I,” she stammered, trying to find the appropriate words.

  “Yes,” he said, “I imagine you are quite attached to your little bit of fur, both literally and figuratively. Playing with those soft, private curls is something I quite enjoy when I am with a woman, but regrettably it would not do for a statue.”

  “I would not know how to--”

  “But I do. A proper lathering, a careful application of the blade, and you’ll be as smooth as silk. Now, please disrobe and lie back on the bed. And be certain to keep very still while I shave you- necessary to prevent any unpleasant nicks.”

  Lying naked on a bed, her intimate parts bared to Lord Carrington? It was enough to send a shiver down her entire body. It was terribly wrong, and yet she had scarcely wanted anything more.

  “W-what if I can’t keep still?”

  “Nothing some bits of silk cannot fix.”

  “Silk?”

  “As effective a restraint as rope, but without any injury to one’s delicate wrists and ankles.”

  “You would bind me to the bed?”

  “I would bind you to the bed under other circumstances as well. Standish may have told me to leave your maidenhead alone, but there are still other forms of pleasure. My ripe darling, do you agree to letting me run my hands over your silky flesh afterward?”

  “You would— would touch me--”

  “Here, there, and everywhere. And rather encourage you to do the same once I untie you.”

  “You would have me touch— myself?”

  “And myself. And you can expect a considerable cockstand, you wanton thing.”

  She could see her Aunt handing her a piece of bread and a glass of water- her dinner over the mantel for the rest of her life if she dared accept such outrageous terms. And she could also see Lord Carrington face- his eyes dark and sparkling with lust. Lust for her.

  It was no contest at all.

  “Yes,” she said, “yes.”

  ***

  Blushing madly, she removed her clothing as quickly as possible, unable to make eye contact with him.

  Yet she followed his instructions, climbing onto the bed and positioning herself in the center.

  “And now to secure you,” he said, reaching for one hand.

  Kissing the inside of her wrist, he proceeded to tie a length of silk around it, securing the other end to the top right bedpost. And then he did the same to her other wrist.

  Her legs were the last to be bound, and she could not help the wave of arousal that went through her as he spread her ankles, his hand traveling as far as her knees before he shook his head and, with a notable sigh, resumed his task of securing her to the bed.

  It was an extraordinary feeling- being fully naked and at his mercy, and yet she felt just as secure as her bonds.

  “Are we to begin?” She asked him.

  “In a minute. I’d like to take a moment to remember this scene.”

  “But why?”

  “But why? Because you are extraordinary. Something out of a dream. A dream that I had one night in the moonlight. In fact— I could swear that you are—“

  “Are what?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. A dream come to life, perhaps. Now, I think I must begin the task I was assigned, for if I gaze upon you like this for much longer, I’m afraid I’m going to break my promise to Lord Standish.”

  “Like this? Tied up?”

  “Not for your first time. But for your fourth time, yes, I should like that very much.”

  “Fourth time?” She squeaked.

  “Once I take you for the first time, I doubt I shall be satiated until you have drained every last drop of seed from my body. And even then, that would merely be a short wait before my supply replenishes. But we must not talk of how badly I wish to have you. I am going to apply the lather now, and must concentrate from here onward.”

  “Yes, My Lord,” she said, as he applied the foamy substance to her nether regions, trying not to move as he took out the blade.

  She closed her eyes, breathing out hard, as she heard the soft scrape of the blade as he groomed her in the most improper of ways.

  Chapter 22

  Gillian

  “Well, everything appears smooth now. However one never knows until one checks.”

  “Checks?” She asked, inclining her head. The view was simply shocking- her pretty thatch of curls was completely gone, leaving nothing but pale flesh that ended in a rosy pink cleft- a cleft that was more than slightly parted. She felt slightly dazed as she looked down at her bare mound. She had lost her entire covering - her cunn
y lips now fully exposed to his gaze. His dark, lustful gaze.

  He lifted his hand, and she knew, she just knew where it was going. Exactly where her own hands went whenever she thought of that long ago kiss that they had shared.

  But it had never felt like this- the feel of flesh against flesh, no silky fur to mute the sensation. His hand cupped her bare mound, stroking over soft skin. Her hips bucked in immediate response, her ankles tugging at her bonds. A strange sound escaped her lips, and he smiled up at her.

  “Seems... quite smooth,” she gasped, his fingers continuing their sensual exploration.

  “Yes, it does. But to be truly certain... one must use a more sensitive means of testing--”

  “Y-your cock,” she replied, both terrified and exhilarated.

  “That would be helpful, but for this particular type of evaluation, it’s the tongue that makes the determination.”

  “The tongue?”

  “Yes,” he said smiling.

  She looked down in surprise as he licked up and down her newly bare flesh.

  “There you are,” Lord Carrington said. “Perfectly smooth.”

  “Perfectly?” She asked.

  “Yes, perfectly. And I’ll have you not doubt me,” he said.

  “Or what?” She asked.

  “I should spank you for that bit of cheek, he said, and I will. Except there is something I would rather do first.”

  It was—it was the most incredible feeling in the world as he kissed her all over her newly bare mound.

  “Yes,” he said, sighing contentedly, “when I say perfectly smooth, I do mean perfectly smooth. And what say you to that, you naughty wench?” He asked, lightly slapping her inner thigh.

  “I-I—“

  “Robbed you of speech, have I?” He asked.

  “I- oh, Lord Carrington,” she gasped as he once again licked at her, only this time his drew his tongue across parts that had never been covered by her soft pelt.

  She moaned as he traced the line of her slit, and then blushed deeply as he licked it open. Was there no part of her that was not to be exposed to this man? Was there no part of her that she was not incredibly aroused to share with him?

 

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