Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set

by Lucy Wild

  “There is a letter here for you,” Mrs Thaw said. “The latest instructions from Mr Brockton. I shall leave you to read them for he insists on confidentiality. He is expected home tomorrow morning by which time you should have familiarised yourself with his demands”

  She nodded and left the room, leaving Clara to tear open the envelope on the table before her. The handwriting inside was bold and well formed.

  To my new governess,

  Consider yourself an actress, acting out a part. I have never been able to have children thanks to the deuced shrapnel within me. I have been told that my mind may be settled by becoming a parent and as such I wish you to be my charge in the same way my mental health is yours. You will find your uniform laid out for you in the third room on the left on the first floor. Be sure to be wearing it when I arrive and follow each of my instructions to the letter. That is of vital importance to my recovery so I am told. I am the authority in this house and if you wish to remain, you must accept these terms. If not you will be provided with transport to return from whence you came.

  Yours sincerely

  Lucius Brockton.

  Clara folded the letter and deposited it in her pocket before standing and leaving the parlour. Mrs Thaw was nowhere to be found but the stairs were waiting for her. She ascended quickly, reaching a wide landing and counting the doors until she reached the third room on the left.

  At first she felt certain she’d made a mistake. The room was a nursery laid out for a child. She tried the other doors along the corridor but they were all firmly locked. Returning to the nursery, she pulled out the letter and reread it. Never able to have children. Consider yourself an actress. You will find your uniform. Recovery. Authority. Was she to act as if she were Mr Brockton’s child?

  She bristled at the thought but then she recalled the fifty pounds and a moment later the image of Cockburn chasing her through a dark house came to her mind. She had no intention of returning to the city and acting the part of a child was surely a small price to pay to remain safe, well fed, and housed in comfort.

  She looked around the nursery. There was a cot long enough for an adult to sleep in, a collection of toy soldiers laid out as if in the midst of battle, a wooden train and a doll’s tea party spread over a red cloth. A full length mirror was set into the wall near the fireplace which was itself ready to light. A pile of nappies were neatly folded on top of a solid wooden changing table and beside them was a cabinet containing bottles, dummies of a variety of shapes and sizes, some far too big to fit in any mouth. Turning from the cabinet she noticed a short white dress laid out over the end of the cot. She held it to the light, surprised by how soft the fabric felt compared to the workhouse clothes she had grown used to. She set the dress down again and closed the room door.

  Setting down her shawl, Clara looked at herself in the mirror. A thin woman looked back at her, black hair down to her shoulders, pale expression, slightly gaunt features, the result of a not overly generous workhouse diet. Her dress was second or perhaps even third hand, darned in several places. As she slid it from her shoulders, she felt a strong sense of relief, as if casting off her old life and beginning afresh. She wore no petticoats or Crinoline and her stockings contained several holes. Sliding them down her legs she looked at herself again, having never had use of a mirror this size before.

  She was surprised most of all by how large her breasts were compared to her undernourished body, as if all the sustenance she took in went straight to them. Her stomach was so flat it was almost concave which only accentuated the swell of her bosom. Running her hands over them, she cupped them, feeling their weight, smiling at the thought of how unusual she would look in the dress provided. It would be immediately clear she were an adult, the shape of her chest ruining any illusion of youth. Her nipples stiffened under her touch and she tried to ignore their tingling as she looked down at her knickers. They were a plain white cotton pulled slightly too high which meant the outline of her pussy lips could be ascertained, another sign of her age which could not be ignored.

  Pulling on the provided dress her eyes widened. It was almost amusing if it wasn’t so indecent. It barely brushed her thighs and she realised she could not keep her stockings on, the holes were too visible. The fabric of the uniform stretched across her chest, the hard nubs of her nipples visible as she twisted round to look at herself from behind. It did make her look younger, she had to admit. Turning back she again ran her hands over her chest, the tingle of her nipples calling to her as they brushed against the underside of the dress.

  She stepped back, examining her legs, changing her posture every few seconds. She blushed as she realised her knickers would become visible if she weren’t careful how she sat or how she walked. Think of your charge, she said to herself. If this assists in his recovery then it will be worth the lack of modesty.

  Lifting the hem slightly she noticed a tiny damp patch had appeared on her knickers. Frowning she tried to decide what to do about it. Sliding her hand over her thigh, she pulled the crotch away from her pussy but as she did so she brushed over her clit and a sigh escaped her lips.

  Resisting the growing urge to touch herself she walked over to the window and looked out just as a coach pulled to a stop outside. The door opened and a man in a top hat stepped out, wrapped in a great coat despite the warmth of the day. Unable to see his face, she could only watch as he hurried up the steps and into the house, servants scurrying to the coach to fetch his bags and follow him inside.

  Unsure how to present herself Clara remained where she was until the nursery door opened and Mrs Thaw appeared. “You look perfect,” she beamed. “Now come and meet your stepfather.”

  Chapter 4

  Clara walked downstairs after Mrs Thaw into a lounge where a figure faced the fire away from them both. “Mr Brockton, this is your stepdaughter,” Mrs Thaw said. “She has been waiting for your return to bask in the glow of your presence.”

  The man turned round and Clara was taken aback. He smouldered with a handsome darkness, his eyes deep blue and piercing, his expression one of mingled fear and sadness. He took in the sight of her in her dress and the flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Come and kiss me, my child,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Clara walked over to him and he leaned down to kiss her. When his lips touched hers, she felt a spark of something pass between them and her breath caught in her throat. He stood back up whilst she found herself wishing she could kiss him again. His lips had felt so soft and there was a scent to him of masculinity that she’d found intoxicating.

  “You look upset,” Mr Brockton said. “I will soon improve your mood.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dummy, pushing it between Clara’s lips. She blinked in surprise but managed to resist spitting it out, finding it strangely soothing to be in place as Mr Brockton looked her up and down before reaching out and lifting the hem of her dress. “Who put you in knickers instead of a nappy? You will have an accident I am certain of it. Mrs Thaw, change her immediately.”

  “Of course sir,” Mrs Thaw said as Clara found herself blushing. Why did you allow him to lift your dress like that? Because you didn’t mind, she thought, answering her own question. You didn’t mind him seeing your underwear. She shivered as the consequences of that thought entered her mind. She allowed Mrs Thaw to lead her from the room and back upstairs to the nursery.

  “You are doing wonderfully well,” Mrs Thaw said. “I can see an improvement in him already.”

  “Thank you,” Clara replied.

  “We must get you into a nappy though. I should have done so before he arrived but he came home early.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly serious. Come and lie down here.”

  Clara paused before doing as she bid, deciding at last that to refuse might put an end to her new position before it had barely begun. She lay on her back as Mrs Thaw knelt before her, pulling her knickers down her legs and neatly folding them.

  Clara put he
r hands over her pussy but Mrs Thaw shoved them away. “I should check you are suitable,” she said, leaning forwards and examining Clara closely. “Are you aroused my dear?”

  “No of course not, what on earth makes you think such a thing?”

  “Your lips are engorged and there is a sheen of wetness upon them. Don’t worry, it is nothing to feel ashamed of, he is a handsome man. If I were twenty years younger…”

  She stopped talking as she pulled Clara’s pussy lips apart, leaning closer still. “I believe you are perfect,” she said at last, leaning over to pick up a nappy and placing it under Clara’s legs. She folded it into place, securing it with a pin before standing up. “Much better,” she smiled. “Better put the dummy back in and we’ll return to the lounge. Be sure to remain in character, short simple language and so forth.”

  Mr Brockton was waiting for them in an armchair. “That’s more like it,” he said as Clara walked over to him. “Don’t want any accidents do we? Now I believe it must be close to your naptime. Would you like a story?”

  Clara nodded, sucking at her dummy, trying to ignore the ache in her pussy which had come from nowhere at the sight of her employer.

  “Come and sit on my lap then.”

  She did as she was bid, feeling the shape of him through his trousers on her thighs as he stroked her hair gently.

  “Once upon a time there was a man who was very sad because he had no children. Then one day a girl called Clara came into his life and he became happy. But sometimes Clara was naughty and this made the man angry. He was forced to teach her the difference between good and bad, right and wrong.” He paused and turned to Mrs Thaw. “I think she may need a drink soon.”

  “I’ll fetch Ella.” She turned and left the room.

  “Now we’re alone,” Mr Brockton continued, “I must confess something to you. Oh look, your nappy has become twisted. Perhaps you are old enough to go a while without wearing it. What say you?”

  “Papa,” Clara said through her dummy. “Love oo.”

  “That’s right. Now stand up a moment.”

  She did so and he pulled the pin free from her nappy, watching it slide to the floor.

  “You can come back on my lap,” he said, his voice quieter as Clara tried to ignore the shame she felt at knowing her pussy was only concealed from view by the dress. She climbed back onto his lap and felt a hardness pressing into her bottom as he moved her into the most comfortable position. He began to rock her on his lap, shifting her hips with his hands as his body began to move also. Clara quickly realised he was manoeuvring her so his hardness was sliding between her buttocks and her pussy throbbed more than ever.

  He froze as the door opened and the maid walked in, curtseying Mr Brockton. “Ah, Ella,” he began. “Clara here is thirsty. Could you provide her with a drink?”

  “Of course sir.”

  Ella sat in another armchair as Clara frowned, where was the drink? She watched as Ella pulled the strap of her dress from her shoulder, pulling out her breast and bringing the nipple to life with a tweak of her fingers.

  “Come on then,” Ella said, beckoning Clara over.

  Clara stood up and walked over, lost in the madness of the situation and intrigued by what a woman’s nipple might feel like. She pulled the dummy out as she sat on the maid’s lap, taking the offered nipple into her mouth. “Suck it in,” Mr Brockton said behind her. “Have a good drink.”

  Clara breathed in, feeling a squirt of milk gush onto her tongue. She blinked with surprise at how warm it felt, continuing to drink whilst running her tongue over the hard nipple between her lips, glancing up as Ella’s expression changed, her cheeks flushing.

  “That’s enough,” Mr Brockton said. “I think its naptime now. Off you go.”

  He lightly swatted Clara on the bottom as Mrs Thaw led her from the room. Turning at the last moment, Clara stuck her dummy into her mouth and said in a muffled voice around it, “Night night papa.”

  Chapter 5

  Clara sat in Mrs Thaw’s private room sipping tea. “Is he mad?” she asked.

  “Not entirely.”

  “Does he genuinely believe I’m napping at this moment?”

  “I don’t rightly know. Ever since his wife died, he changed.”

  “His wife died?”

  “Whilst he was deployed. He never forgave himself for not being here to say goodbye. The best physicians in the country have tried all manner of treatments to help him and nothing has worked. But when he set eyes on you I saw a glimpse of the old him for the first time in years.”

  So you think I should continue with the charade?”

  “I do. I understand it is asking a lot of you but you’ve already proven yourself far more accommodating than anyone else I’ve brought here before.”

  “I feel ridiculous.”

  Even as she said the words, Clara found herself disagreeing with them. Something about being on his lap had sparked emotions long held dormant within her and she realised she wanted nothing more than to please him, to help him recover, no matter what the personal toll might be.

  She was not called upon for the rest of the day and as she lay in her cot that night, she thought only of Mr Brockton, hoping he would come and say goodnight. She went to sleep disappointed and woke up the next morning unsure of her next move. Mrs Thaw walked in as she sat up, carrying a fresh nappy for her to wear and another short dress.

  “Mr Brockton is waiting to give you breakfast. He asked that you attend alone.”

  Clara wore a fresh nappy under her dress and sucked on her dummy as she entered the dining room. Mr Brockton was standing by the window looking out onto the grounds. “Aren’t you a grown up making your own way here?” he said as she entered. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes papa.”

  “Good girl. Are you hungry?”

  She nodded and he pointed to a vacant chair. As she sat he walked across to her and stood before her.

  “I have a special breakfast for you if you would like to try something different.”

  “Special?” she asked, frowning as if the word confused her.

  “Can I have a morning kiss?”

  Clara’s heart soared as he leaned down. He pulled out her dummy and tossed it onto the table, planting his lips on hers. She threw her arms around him, not letting him pull away. He stared into her eyes as she slid her tongue into his mouth. Her hands began to shake as she felt certain she’d made a mistake, twisting her head away from his. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

  “Do not apologise for affection,” he replied, his eyes wide. “Would you like to eat now?”

  She nodded and he reached down to the button at the top of his trousers, undoing it rapidly as if awakening from a long sleep, his movements firm and sure. As his boxer shorts came into view a clear bulge was visible, making Clara ache deep inside herself. She reached forwards with both hands. “For me?” she asked innocently as she could.

  “For you,” he replied, easing down his underwear, his cock springing into view, pointing into the air. Clara felt nothing but desire as she took it in her hands and automatically began stroking it, allowing her fingers to trace lines over the bumps of his veins and up to the head, pulling him towards her. She took him into her mouth and relished the sensation of heat on her tongue, sucking him towards the back of her throat until she almost gagged, her jaws wide apart.

  She clamped down with her lips, tightening her grip as she continued to stroke him with her hands, enjoying the sounds he made above her. “You’re a natural,” he said, his voice low.

  Clara’s pussy grew so wet she felt sure her nappy would be soaking as he lifted her to her feet and kissed her again. “I cannot resist you,” he muttered, tugging her nappy loose and lifting her dress, reaching under it, seeking out her breasts, toying roughly them as they continued kissing. Her nipples stiffened under his touch, her skin tingled with desire and she closed her eyes, feeling his lips move down to flick between her breasts.

  His hand m
oved to her pussy, stroking it slowly. “You’re so wet,” he said. “Have you been touched like this before?”

  No,” she sighed. “Never.”

  He smiled as he stroked her lips, gathering up wetness before pushing a finger deep into her, hooking it upwards and stroking the aching walls inside her. She rocked against him, wanting more, the finger not being enough for long.

  “Fuck me,” she mouthed, blushing as the words fell out.

  “Naughty girl,” he said. “Such language is unseemly.”

  “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “I forgive you as you’ve been such a good girl lately.” He kissed her again, twisting her round so she was bent over the table. He pushed the dummy back into her mouth as his cock slid between her buttocks, rubbing along the length of her bottom whilst he kissed her back.

  Clara pulled the dress over her head and reached back, searching for his hips. When she reached them she drew him towards her, trying to hint at her desires. He teased her for a minute longer before shifting his body so the tip of his cock eased its way inside her, making her wince as he stretched her entrance before lust numbed everything, making her desperate only for him to delve deeper.

  “Fuck me,” she said again and this time he didn’t reply, instead pressing his hips to her bottom, burying himself inside her. She remained perfectly still as he began to thrust, his movements growing faster with every motion until he was slamming into her, making her moan around her dummy.

  “You are such a good girl,” he groaned, reaching down to stroke her clit, making her whole body tingle.

  He pulled out of her and twisted her round. “Sit on my lap again my angel,” he said, drawing her down to the floor and lying on his back.

  Clara positioned herself above him, lowering her body until she felt the heat of his cock on her thigh. Reaching down she pulled him into her, grinding down onto his pelvis as he groped her breasts, making her feel more alive than she ever had before.

  She balanced herself on his body, bouncing up and down as his shaft drove deep into her, filling her completely until her clit screamed for attention. Stroking it with her fingers she continued to ride him until he let out a grunt, exhaled loudly and grabbed her hips, holding her in place with his cock buried in her. She felt it twitch inside and then the delicious sensation of wet warmth filled her pussy.