House of Sin

by Lacy Danes

  Miss Lamber’s smile turned wicked. “The master has no vexation with the act and wishes it upon all of his servants and acquaintances. The art of pleasure is everywhere here and highly encouraged. There truly is no better place to work.”

  The act was encouraged here. Emily’s throat closed off, and she swallowed hard. She closed her eyes. …when requested, do anything the master, his sons, or guests ask of you. Mr. Waterton’s ominous words rang in her mind.

  Anything.

  Anything…

  Including all acts of pleasure?

  It couldn’t be that debauched. She was letting her mind get the better of her. Besides, she needed this post. It was the only way to gain the experience she needed to be a servant. Surely she could figure a way to follow her dream of servitude and virtue here. She opened her eyes, realized her jaw was open, closed it, then licked her lips. “I—I—” They could not force her to accept an advance. Or could they?

  “Here.” Miss Lamber stepped toward her. “Let me place the cloth so you know how to do it right. As you follow me throughout the day, you shall see what I mean. I do think in time you will enjoy it here.” She grasped the bowl back from Emily. “I will show you. Teach you. And please…call me Sibila.”

  “I am Emily.” She hesitated and glanced around the room, not sure whether to flee in the horror her mind created or stay and see what this house was all about.

  Sibila smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, Emily. Now pull up your shift and lie on our bed with your legs spread open so that I may place this.”

  It made little sense to give up a good post just because she feared what might be. Emily grasped the fabric that hung about her legs and pulled it up. This was shameful.

  She sat on the bed. Her heart hammered, and the lips of her private place still tingled from the doctor’s probing. She scooted back on the soft mattress and lay down. Do this protection, and on the first scandalous advance, leave. She could do that. Inching her legs up into a bent position, the soles of her shoes on the coverlet, she exposed her most private place to this woman she had met not an hour past. She swallowed hard. Blasphemous. Scandalous. Never would she have thought…

  Concentrate on something else, Emily.

  Her gaze darted around the tiny room. The small glass windows parted with a single wooden arch in each. The plain grey walls. The small mirror which hung above a stand with an equally plain white washbasin set atop it. Nothing caught her attention. The bed. She lay upon a bed exposed to a woman in a most humiliating way! Shake those thoughts from your head. Concentrate on the bed if you must…the bed.

  The bed beneath her was covered in a thick white cotton coverlet. The mattress was plush and comfortable. Actually it appeared to be the most comfortable she had lain on. She wiggled her hips just a bit into the fluffy cradling of the pillow itself.

  Sibila laughed and placed herself standing at the edge of the bed between her legs. “Getting comfortable, are we? Or are you bit of a naughty girl?” Her voice humored.

  “I am attempting to distract myself.”

  “Ah, well, I am going to place it now. It will only be a moment more.” Sibila’s fingers touched her knee.

  All the muscles in Emily’s leg jumped. Why did everyone insist on telling her it would only be a moment more? No matter how short it was, it was an eternity.

  “It will get easier each time. Before long, it will simply be part of your daily routine.”

  Sibila’s fingers parted the folds of Emily’s slit. “You are the virgin you said you were.”

  Emily squeezed her eyes tightly closed. “Yes.”

  “We shall keep that a confidence between you, me and the good doctor, or the master’s sons will fight to be the first to bed you. You should choose who the first man will be. Not any one of them, as they are animals and think only with their wackers.”

  Sibila’s finger slowly slid into her body, stretching her flesh. Emily sucked in a startled breath and gripped the bed linens.

  “I am going to open you up a bit so I can slip this in easier.” A drizzle of oil slid down between her legs, and Sibila’s finger pressed in and out of her opening just as the doctor’s had done.

  She squirmed and pulled her buttocks away from the sensation. Make haste.

  Sibila’s touch glided out and up one lip of her privates, then circled and dipped back into her.

  A fuzzy pressure stirred in her womb.

  “There. Your muscles are relaxing. Doesn’t that feel good?”

  “Ummm…” It did feel…good. She should be mortified by such thoughts, such temptations.

  “Simply concentrate on the pleasurable sensations. You should do this every time you feel the tingling sensation between your legs. Your body will so appreciate it.” Her fingers continued to slide in and out and in and out, stretching the flesh of her slit wider and wider.

  With each dip, a warm pleasure streamed through her and her muscles tightened. She held back a gasp and turned her head to the side as heat bloomed across her face. How embarrassing a sensation. Emily squirmed even more. This shouldn’t feel good. Her hips arched as heat pulsed through her flesh.

  “I am going to slide the cloth in now.” Thick, cool wetness pressed to the slit of her opening, and then two fingers slid the cloth up and inside of her. “All is done.”

  Emily opened her eyes and blinked. Gracious. Pushing up with her hands, she sat upright, the flesh between her thighs throbbing. Thank goodness. “Do I need to worry about the strip slipping out?”

  “No. At the end of each day, you will pull it out, and in the morning place another.”

  Emily nodded. Part of her daily routine? Wasn’t touching yourself daily a sin and bad for your health? She glanced at Sibila. Her ruddy cheeks and energizing presence put her in the picture of health. There appeared to be no ill effect. Besides, protection was required if she was to stay on here.

  “First duty is the master’s chambers. Pull the sheets, fluff the mattress and clean the pots.”

  And then bed the master? Truly, Emily, grasp hold of your imagination.

  Chapter Two

  Emily stood outside the kitchen and dry laundry door. The yard before her led to the stable and outbuildings beyond. The sun glowed in the sky as big fluffy clouds waltzed past on the warm breeze. She chewed a scrap of pitted apple that she’d grabbed on her way through the kitchen. The fruit pleasantly soured her mouth.

  Not another naughty encounter all morning. Thank goodness. It was past noontime and she had expected to see something… What, she hadn’t an inkling. The normalcy of the day was reassuring and proof her mind had run off with the possibilities.

  She inhaled and the smell of sweet rose soap from the laundry filled her nostrils. If she took stock, the morning was filled with accomplishment and calm.

  She had pulled linens from the beds, washed them, and now they hung before her, drying on the lines in the floral summer breeze. She would press them when they dried and refit others in the rooms of the master, his sons and the ruby guest room. That was as soon as she found Sibila. Where had she gone? She was uncertain what her next task should be.

  She glanced across the white, billowing walls of hanging sheets in the dry laundry and down the rust-colored dirt path, which led to the stone coach house and stalls.

  She sighed.

  A young man dressed in a green livery long coat and brown breeches crossed the path to the stable with a bucket in hand. His reddish hair curled over his collar. He glanced over his shoulder at her, slowed his pace and fully turned toward her.

  Emily froze mid-chew. His green eyes sparkled like a bead of dew caught in the sunlight. Filled with merriment and mirth, he had masculine lips that turned up in a grin and stretched the skin over his square chin.

  Her cheeks, filled with apple not yet swallowed, twitched as her lips curved in reply. My, he was handsome. If not for his livery, she’d have taken him for a playful forest sprite. A fiery-haired sprite and an enchanted soul.

  He
raised his hand and his index finger glided along his lower lip. His tongue slid out and wrapped the tip as long, amber lashes closed over his left eye. He then gestured with his head that she should come with him.

  Her heart hammered. He was worth whatever this house was about. She wondered what mischievous, good-natured fun he was headed for. Or did he simply wish her to help with something? She worried her lower lip between her teeth.

  He shrugged, turned and continued on his path into the stables, whistling a happy tune.

  Sibila stepped out the door past Emily, bringing with her the savory smell of baking apples, cinnamon and tart.

  Emily flinched and sucked in a startled breath. Had she been behind her all this time?

  “He is handsome, isn’t he?” Sibila turned and glanced over her shoulder. “An amazing futter.”

  A futter… Surely not everyone participated in the act with everyone else here. Or did they?

  “Follow me, Emily. Learn something.” Sibila’s hips gently swayed as she followed the red earth path of sin to the fiery-haired groomsman in the barn.

  Emily stared at the barn door as if through a tunnel. You do want to be introduced to him, so follow her. Emily glanced back at the door to the kitchen. Make haste before the cook sees you!

  Emily stepped and her knees wobbled. Her heart pounded. Indeed she wanted to meet him. She inhaled deeply, summoning her fortitude, then gathered up her skirt and ran down the path, across the cobbled drive, to the stable door.

  She pressed her back up against the bumpy stone of the barn to the right of the door and closed her eyes, listening.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch. Stomp, stomp. Swish, swish. Crunch, crunch.

  The horses chewed on their hay and stomped flies away. Her shoulders relaxed. She acted foolishly. Well, go on in. It was possible Sibila and the groomsman were…well, she supposed they could be doing anything.

  She turned and entered the small barn. Light shined in through the paned windows, casting a golden glow in streams on the dark hall and stalls. The damp air from the cool stone chilled up her skirt like icy fingers. It was as if she entered not into a sprite’s den, but something infinitely more sinister.

  She inhaled to steady herself and glanced around. Horses resided in the first two stalls. The smell of dry hay and the unique scent of beast and sweat curled into her nostrils. Her muscles tensed. She’d always enjoyed the smell of the barn. It reminded her of long days spent occupying herself while her father readied the horses for the carriage. Though the smells and sounds were similar here, there was a stimulating heated noise to the air which she could not quite place. She strained to hear it more clearly. There was a rustling of cloth and whispered voices.

  She stepped forward, carefully listening. She turned the corner and headed down another longer row of stalls with a green door at its end.

  “There she is, Adam,” Sibila whispered from the stall to the left of Emily. “I told you she would follow.”

  “Miss Grey.” His deep voice, so different from what she’d imagined, made the hairs on her neck stand and her stomach flutter. “Come in and assist us.”

  Emily peered through the slats in the wood, but saw only hazy light and shadows. What were they about? Maybe they simply required her help with something.

  Emily lifted the wooden latch on the stall door and pulled it to the right, sliding it out of the way. She stepped in and quickly closed it behind her.

  The copper-haired groomsman faced away from her. His green coat lay fanned out on the hay before him, and he stood in his white shirt and brown breeches. “Umm.” A wet, slopping sound came from in front of him.

  She stepped closer, and her head spun slightly from the stifling confines of the small space.

  “You require my assistance with something…sir?”

  “God, yes.” His hips pressed forward and then relaxed.

  Emily stepped closer. Goodness, he was taller and broader at this vantage than he had appeared from a distance in the dry laundry. His stature was impressive. Definitely not a sprite. She barely came to his shoulders. She rounded his side.

  Sibila knelt before him. Her skirts billowed out around her. Hands on his thighs, she licked the length of his peg with an improper slurping sound.

  Emily’s eyes widened. Oh! She should not be watching this. This was definitely something obscene. The hairs on her neck stood and tingled. They had asked her here to assist them! She could not look away. Long, thick and red, his staff stood straight from his trousers.

  “No need to fret, little one. Sibila told me of your innocence and desires. We shall show you nothing more.”

  Her desires to wed before acting. She relaxed. Thank goodness Sibila had told him. Emily could not take her eyes from Sibila and what she was doing with his prick. Who would have thought? Never. My. Um…

  Sibila’s red lips glided up his length to the tip and then she sucked the crown into her mouth. She rocked her head forward and back as if she licked a large, spear-shaped sucker. She appeared to enjoy this act, but what did that taste like? It couldn’t taste good… Or could it?

  “Mmmm.” Adam closed his eyes as if he savored a good bit of custard, then reopened them. “See how Sibila does that with her tongue, Miss Grey?” His body shook. “That feels bloody good. Try to remember that when you are asked to do this.” He reached out, grasped the green cap on Sibila’s head and clenched. “Ummm.” His hips pressed forward, and the length of his peg disappeared deep into Sibila’s mouth.

  Emily’s throat tightened, and she swallowed as if he had shoved his peg into her mouth. When she was asked to do this?

  Could she do this? She wanted to back away, but her feet were cast of stone. Hold fast, Emily. What harm could it do to watch? They had asked for her assistance after all. This might help her in the marriage bed. She trembled as her corset rubbed her nipples in a way that it had never done so before. Her chest tightened, and she labored to breathe.

  Adam’s tall, broad frame shuddered and shook. Emily stared at his round, hard arms and then she glanced lower, down to his waist, his buttocks. His hips rotated forward and his bottom clenched. Amazing that a woman’s mouth could cause his well-muscled frame to strain and shudder so. It was as if he worked some impossible task he so desired but struggled to obtain.

  “Enough!” He pulled back.

  Emily’s gaze shot straight to his bright red prick and Sibila’s mouth.

  Sibila lips flared open. Her tongue lapped out and her eyes closed. His prick slid crimson and glistening from her tongue.

  Sibila sat back on her heels, and her sensuous blue eyes fluttered open. “My turn, Adam.”

  “Indeed it is, but let us involve Miss Grey.” He extended his hand to Sibila and helped her to rise to her feet. “Miss Grey.” His emerald eyes, a sliver engulfed by passion, captured her.

  May lightning strike me still! Emily’s eyes widened, and her stomach flipped. The desire in those eyes immobilized her and unwantedly inspired a deep repressed part of her soul. In that exact instant, she wanted him to desperately want her. She glanced at Sibila and then back to him.

  His gaze swept her body and settled on her hands in a wave of heat. His eyes shone with that desire. Could he be her one love?

  Silliness, Emily, silliness. No other person can enter one’s soul with a stare, and he was futtering another. Still—she ripped her gaze to Sibila, hoping for some gesture to bring her back to reality. There was something about Adam.

  “What did you have in mind, Adam?” Sibila grinned at Emily and winked.

  Winked! As if all this were an acceptable existence. Sibila was scandalous…and wanton…and, well, intriguing. If Emily were to survive and keep her innocence in this house, she needed to know more, and Sibila seemed happy to trust her, show her and be her confidant. Her stomach filled with flutters.

  “I would like Miss Grey to place me into your sheath.”

  Emily closed her eyes. That required her to act. Fortitude. She reopened them.


  “What a delightful and a wonderful first experience for her.” Sibila’s blue eyes danced with mischief. “Don’t you think, dearest Emily?”

  “Ummmm.” She would have to touch him and her. Her heart lodged in her throat. The words simply would not form to express the myriad emotions that swirled in her. Fear of losing her innocence and her dreams. Fear of losing her post, and curiosity of what this act entailed with Adam. The contradictions.

  She stared at Adam’s peg, and her tongue slid out and nervously wet her lips. Heat as warm as the sun outside blazed to her cheeks, and her stomach flipped. No matter how wrong it was, the desire to touch him pulsed through her. She could not admit out loud to her longing, but touching was not the full act. She would still be a virgin when she walked out of the stall. She should embrace this moment and touch him.

  “I will take that delightful blush as a confirmation with an exclamation point.” Sibila’s smile widened further.

  “Very good, then.” Adam turned to Emily, his prick poking out at her as if it were a sword ready to joust. “Touch me.”

  Emily’s throat tightened and her body tingled as heat bloomed through her gut and pulsed wetly between her legs. She squirmed at the moisture and raised a trembling hand toward him as if reaching for the blade on a sharp knife. “I-I…don’t know what to do.”

  Sibila’s fingers glided along the top of Emily’s hand, soothing her trembling.

  From a dream floating above them, Emily watched Sibila pull her hand to Adam’s peg. Her fingers wrapped Emily’s about his stiffness. Skin smoother than anything she had touched before met her fingers, and the heat… The feverish temperature warmed her uncommonly cold hand. She cradled his prick in her palm in awe.

  “Hold me firmly. The sensation is better when you do.”

  Emily tightened her grip, and her gaze skipped to Adam’s lustful eyes for approval.

  “Very good.” He nodded. “Sibila, show her how to hand-frig me.”

  Sibila moved to the other side of Adam. Her hand interlaced overtop of Emily’s fingers. “Glide your hand with mine, Emily.”