Innocence Examined

by Emily Tilton

  He gestured Fairleigh, who looked very grim, to come out from behind the desk, and he took up a position behind Caroline, which Sir Gerald was sure was a very favorable one to see all the lovely secrets of the girl’s cunt and anus, as well as the instructive sight of the punished thighs and bottom-cheeks. The chastity belt opened at the left hip, where the lock fastened together the cincture of stout black leather, so broad that Sir Gerald found his breath catching just at the moving contrast between the stern authority of the cincture and the tender pink-white skin of the weeping Caroline. A slightly narrower and slightly thinner strap ran from front to back to render Caroline’s cunt and arsehole unavailable to her, and to anyone but the lucky man who held the key that would unlock her charms for pleasurable use.

  Brown made Caroline hold her right leg up, and Sir Gerald saw him smile as he looked between her thighs at the way, Sir Gerald was sure, the movement opened her up so shamefully. He drew the belt all the way up to her loins. “Dr. Fairleigh,” he said, “will have the only key.”

  “Oh!” Caroline said, as if surprised, and also—Sir Gerald thought—as if perhaps the news were not entirely unwelcome. Had Fairleigh been too lenient with her? But he had just caned her so severely!

  Brown tugged the straps of the belt into position quite tightly, Sir Gerald thought. Caroline gasped at the feeling. “You will apply to him when you need to use the pot, Miss Hollins, and he will open the belt to manualise you as necessary.”

  “Oh, no… please,” Caroline cried.

  “Indeed,” said Vance. “You will wear your belt at all other times, girl. You cannot be trusted not to play with Sir Gerald’s property without such a measure.”

  “Stand up, Miss Hollins,” Brown said, “and go kneel before your guardian.” Tearfully, Caroline obeyed. The sight of the naked eighteen-year-old in front of him made Sir Gerald think that if she had not just been put in a chastity belt, he might not last until the grand performance in the Hebrides, but would, overcome by her loveliness, simply bend her over the desk, perhaps on the pretext of punishing her, and fuck her long and hard while she cried out her submission under him. “Promise Sir Gerald that you will try to mend your conduct, where his masculine rights are concerned as in every other way.”

  Caroline looked up into Sir Gerald’s eyes, her hands clasped before her. “I promise, sir,” she whispered.

  * * *

  That night, wearing her belt, Caroline was present at Sir Gerald’s fucking of Anne. Now that it appeared Anne had taken more of a liking to the girl, Sir Gerald found Caroline’s observations extremely exciting. He even began to encourage her to ask questions.

  She stood in nothing but the belt next to the head of the bed, while he held Anne’s knees open and fucked grandly in the matrimonial style. Caroline kept her hands at her sides, and Sir Gerald, though he thought Brown might not approve, could not help reaching out to fondle Caroline’s little breasts as he rode easily in and out of Anne’s cunt. Caroline bit her lips with the pleasure of it, and whimpered a little.

  Then she said, in a whisper, “Will Miss Anne have to have it in her bottom tonight, sir?”

  Sir Gerald felt his cock give a little leap at the lascivious words. “Would you like to see that, Caroline?” he asked even as he kept thrusting inside his fucking piece at a steady pace.

  “Oh, no, Gerrie,” Anne said reprovingly. “Please not while she watches.”

  “Did you like seeing me fuck Mary’s bottom, my dear?” Sir Gerald asked.

  Caroline nodded. “It looked like you were teaching her to be an obedient girl, even though she didn’t like it very much. Is it the same with Miss Anne?”

  “I will show you,” said Sir Gerald, withdrawing from Anne’s cunt. “Anne, on your elbows, if you please. You’ve got an arse-fucking coming.”

  “Sir,” Anne pleaded. “Please… not while she is here. Please send her away.”

  “Do you want the strap, my dear? Do as I’ve said.”

  Anne gave him a frightened, agonized look, and obeyed at last.

  “Why,” Sir Gerald asked then, curiously, as he retrieved the oil with which Dr. Brown supplied Cadogan Square, for the purpose of easing the pleasurable use of girls’ anuses, “is it any different for her to see you have your arse-fucking? Come here, Caroline, and watch me prepare Miss Anne’s bottom for my cock.”

  Anne gave a muffled little sob into the coverlet, then turned her face and said, looking at Caroline, who was gazing fascinatedly at where Sir Gerald’s fingers invaded his mistress’ backside, “Because… because it is so much more shameful, and… it makes me scream so, and… well, what Caroline said, about the lesson—it feels like I am a naughty girl, when you do that to me.”

  Then she cried out loudly, because, aroused to massive stiffness by her words, Sir Gerald had mounted upon the bed, crouched over her, presented the head of his cock to her little ring, and begun to push.

  “Oh,” said Caroline, who, Sir Gerald remembered, had not seen the bottom-fucking of Mary at close range like this.

  “This is how a man enters a girl’s bottom,” Sir Gerald said, by way of instruction and then, overcome with the pleasure of Anne’s tightness there, he began to fuck.

  “Does it hurt Miss Anne to fuck her so hard?” Caroline asked after a few moments, when Anne’s cries had grown wilder.

  “No, child,” Sir Gerald gasped, “though she will be sore there, tomorrow.”

  As Sir Gerald rode towards his spend, Caroline, perhaps alarmed by the severity of the act, took a step back. Sir Gerald began to spend then, looking at the beautiful girl in her naughty belt, her hands again clasped in front of her as if pleading for Miss Anne’s bottom.

  “Turn around and bend over, Caroline,” he said, feeling the seed boil in his balls. “I wish to see the bottom I shall fuck one day soon.”

  As she obeyed with a frightened look in her eyes, Sir Gerald wondered why it seemed to him that the sight of Caroline’s backside girt in the stout black leather that hid his view of her cunt and arsehole was even more moving—sent him into an even stronger climax—than the sight of those parts naked would have done.

  * * *

  The next night, Caroline was sent to Vance and Charlotte’s chamber. By all accounts, the experience was quite similar to Sir Gerald’s the previous night, except that Charlotte, though she wept a little when told that Caroline would watch Vance arse-fuck her, did not protest as Anne had done.

  On the instructions of Brown and Vance, though it appeared that perhaps he did not entirely agree with those instructions, Fairleigh manualised Caroline once a day, in the drawing room directly after dinner. She was secured to the special divan at hand and foot, upon her back, and then Fairleigh unlocked the belt and pulled it down to her thighs.

  The first few times he forced her to her climax in that position, the whole household assembled to watch. Fairleigh caressed the girl between her spread thighs with great efficiency until she screamed that she could not bear it, and came in a way that Sir Gerald found very moving, though it seemed like the sort of climax that was terribly shameful for Caroline.

  By the fourth or fifth time it had become routine, though Anne or Charlotte, at Caroline’s request, were always present, to embrace her afterwards as she sobbed into their bosoms in her shame and, Sir Gerald could see more and more every day, her frustration.

  On the Saturday nights, there was always some sort of debauch in the drawing room, whether Mary was to be enjoyed again in some fashion, or Anne and Charlotte would be fucked by the other’s gentleman. Caroline always sat in the same chair, with Fairleigh behind her, though now that she must wear the belt, the sight of the young doctor caressing her cunt did not make part of the spectacle.

  Otherwise, after the first week, Caroline was not sent for to the gentlemen’s bedchambers: there seemed a tacit agreement that now that she’d had all the mysteries revealed to her, she should be kept at a simmer, and indeed not allowed to see the shameful things, her research into which had led
to this strange and provocative arrangement. Instead, she must lie abed, hear the cries of other girls, and know that her own first night of serving the right of the phallus would arrive very soon.

  On the first day of March, 1863, the residents of the house in Cadogan Square set out for the north. By railway they traveled to Glasgow, and then in Sir Gerald’s yacht to their beautiful, isolated new home.

  Chapter Twenty

  As soon as they had taken up residence upon the little heather-covered island that now bore the name Carruthers Isle, the gentlemen began to lay the plans for Caroline’s first night. Anne watched those plans take shape half with lascivious enjoyment and half with distress. She had realized, the night Caroline had watched Sir Gerald have her bottom, that the sight of the prurient, yet somehow still innocent, girl in the leather chastity belt moved her more than any other erotic thing. When she had begged Sir Gerald to send Caroline away, it had in no small part been because Anne’s desire to bend Caroline to her, Anne’s, will had risen like a stormy sea and threatened to engulf her in a way that at first Anne found frightening.

  When Sir Gerald had sent them back to the girls’ room later, Anne had made Caroline bring her to spend after spend, until Caroline complained that her tongue hurt from licking the older girl’s cunny for so long.

  “I don’t care, Caroline,” Anne said, hardly knowing how she could be so cruel. She was glad Mr. Vance had kept Charlotte in his own chamber, for she imagined Charlotte would remonstrate at Anne’s severity with the eighteen-year-old. “Keep licking. It is only fair after you watched me with Sir Gerald in my bottom. And put your fingers inside, like a man’s cock, if you please. That’s it. Fuck me with them now. Oh, you sweet girl… that feels so lovely… Harder now… harder…” Then she’d had to take the neck of her night rail in her teeth to keep from screaming with the terrible pleasure of watching little Caroline, clad only in the leather chastity belt that forbid her the same pleasure, forced to serve another girl’s cunny with her young lips, tongue, and fingers.

  Being present in the drawing room when Caroline was forced to spend under the skillful fingers of Dr. Fairleigh, knowing (as Charlotte, it appeared, also knew) that Caroline loved him, moved her almost as much as the wicked belt did. Anne had had an inkling, from how much she had enjoyed bringing Charlotte off in their bed, even before the business with Caroline’s spying had started, that there was a part of her that would not object to being given a chance to enjoy the same rights that Dr. Brown, it seemed, awarded only to men. The period of Caroline’s training had now revealed to her just how strong an inclination in that direction Anne had: she still enjoyed being bent to Sir Gerald’s and even to Mr. Vance’s will, but she knew now that she also enjoyed spanking Caroline, watching Caroline punished, and above all simply seeing Caroline in her chastity belt, forbidden to find release of her burgeoning erotic feeling.

  Anne felt so tender towards Caroline as well, though, that her lustful thoughts in that regard distressed her greatly, and that anxiety added itself to the simpler anxiety Anne felt with regard to the girl’s future. Did Dr. Fairleigh truly love her? If he did, what did that mean, since he clearly had the same view of his natural rights as the others? Anne had come to accept the idea that Sir Gerald did not love her the way she had grown up thinking the man a girl lived with (in matrimony, of course, but her position in Sir Gerald’s house was as close to marriage as Anne knew she would ever come) was supposed to love her. In exchange, she had luxury, and she had fulfillment of her perverse desires such as she had never thought to find. But what of Caroline? Yes, the girl clearly shared those same perverse desires, but should not she also have a chance at a conventional married life? Since she had fallen in love with Dr. Fairleigh, should that life not be with him?

  But the men had determined that Caroline should be made community property, and Dr. Fairleigh, though he treated Caroline more tenderly, perhaps, than the others did, had made no objection to that notion. On the other hand, he had not availed himself either of Mary or of Charlotte, both of whom had repeatedly been offered to him. And Dr. Fairleigh, like Anne and all the others, lived in a situation where the enticements to shameful amours were always present.

  Here on Carruthers Isle, indeed, even before the most intensive preparations for the grand occasion began, the lascivious side of the lives of Sir Gerald’s dependents had gained the ascendancy from the very moment they set foot in the grand house atop the knoll that dominated the island. The baronet had restored that house far beyond its original splendor, and in the process of that restoration, it appeared the moment they entered, he had also indulged to the utmost his taste for the display of the signs of masculine right: above the mantelpiece hung a cane, a strap, and a cat-o’-nine-tails; five of the special divans, with straps for securing young women, stood in the grand receiving hall; and five spanking benches graced the enormous library.

  All these they had seen before Sir Gerald led them through a secret door and down a stairway to the dungeon he had built. All the girls had spent the first night there, in separate cells. During the night, Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance had visited each available girl (that is, Anne, Charlotte, and Mary) in turn, first flogging her and then fucking her, both in such a way to make her cry out. The gentlemen were explicit: they must cry out so that Caroline, alone in her own little cell, could hear them. Anne did not know where Dr. Fairleigh had gone during this procedure. Later, after they had been released and allowed to go to their own room, Caroline told Anne and Charlotte with a blush that she was sure even thought it had been very dark, that Dr. Fairleigh had been looking in through the bars on the window of her cell door, smiling at her as if to reassure her.

  Here in the north, Caroline’s daily climax was given to her upon one of the spanking benches in the library, and Sir Gerald decreed that Dr. Fairleigh must spank her while he brought her off. Also, the baronet commanded that from henceforth the whole household must be present for these sessions; the other girls were also strapped naked to benches of their own, and Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance went from girl to girl, fucking.

  Truly it began to seem to Anne that this removal to the Hebrides had inspired the gentlemen to experimentation they probably would never have attempted in a civilized locale. She thrilled to see it and to experience it, but she did wonder what Dr. Brown would think: the physician could not, it seemed to her, truly be in favor of the sort of philosophical abandon into which Mr. Vance seemed to spur his knighted confederate.

  Above all, if Anne understood correctly, Dr. Brown’s theory included the getting of children, and Anne began to wonder whether perhaps Mr. Vance, whose policy for the household explicitly forbid the planting of male seed in female womb, were moving into some phase of his perverse project where he would finally have experienced every wicked thing he had ever dreamt of experiencing, and decide he was ready to settle down and put a baby in Charlotte’s belly.

  Anne was certain, moreover, that Sir Gerald was more than ready to help her to a child. Indeed she was rather surprised that she hadn’t become pregnant already, for the baronet violated Mr. Vance’s policy with some regularity, giving Anne what he liked to call a ‘soothing injection.’ Anne giggled when he said this, but she knew she did want to have a baby; she supposed that the awful tea Mr. Vance made them drink bore the responsibility there, and hoped that among them, Sir Gerald, Dr. Fairleigh, and Dr. Brown could overcome Mr. Vance’s objections.

  * * *

  The date of the grand occasion upon which Caroline Hollins’ maidenhead would meet its doom before an assembly of natural men was finally fixed for the first day of April, 1863, a Saturday. Sir Gerald made the announcement at dinner, a week before.

  “Brown writes,” he said, “that he has twenty natural men ready to come up at a moment’s notice. He agrees that the first of April, being a traditional day of spring carnival, when nature’s own randiness has been celebrated in ages past, makes a very suitable opportunity. He himself undertakes to reserve a special railway coach, an
d to lead the party. I shall send the yacht to Glasgow to fetch them that morning.”

  “He is merely angling for the third ride upon our young filly,” joked Mr. Vance. Charlotte turned red at that.

  Anne looked at Caroline, whose eyes had gotten very big. They were all dressed conventionally, as they always did for dinner, but Anne found herself wondering what it felt like to have to wear a chastity belt under your corset, and whether Caroline had just gotten wet at the thought of the twenty men who stood ready to fuck her, and would do so in a week’s time.

  “We shall have the stage built in the receiving hall,” Sir Gerald said. “Tonight, we shall have a dress rehearsal. There is a part for everyone to perform.”

  Since the stage had not yet been built, Mr. Vance and Sir Gerald marked out the area it would occupy with string. They had Martin and the footmen place one of the special divans in the center of that area, and the rest of the company—Dr. Fairleigh, Anne, Charlotte, Caroline, and Mary—were told to arrange the remaining furniture in the manner of seating for an audience. So richly had Sir Gerald furnished the hall that there were easy chairs for all twenty prospective guests, as well as two special, throne-like chairs for Sir Gerald and Mr. Vance, which would occupy the back of the stage.

  “The divan to which we will strap Caroline,” Mr. Vance said conversationally as the work proceeded, “will rest upon a turntable, so that we may display her—and the men fucking her—properly, for the enjoyment of the assembled men. Sir Gerald and I will move the turntable as necessary, to provide the most diverting views. Do you understand, Caroline?”

  “Yes,” whispered Caroline. A few moments before, Sir Gerald had ordered her to remove everything, including her chemise, so she stood, looking nervously back at Mr. Vance, in nothing but her chastity belt. Anne felt her heart go out to the girl, even as she also felt herself grow uncomfortably warm between her thighs, once again picturing the spectacle, now with the added detail of the turntable, revolving slowly as Sir Gerald fucked away Caroline’s girlhood.