The Hesitant Bride

by Cecelie Hart

  There was a knock. Emma acknowledged it with a brusque cry of "Enter!" and the housekeeper swept in.

  "Yes, Ada?" Emma asked, her heart speeding slightly as it always did in the presence of the icily beautiful blonde. Out of reflex, she checked the housekeeper's hands. Empty. But then, that was no surprise. It was afternoon and they had guests. This was no time for ginger.

  "His lordship wishes you to know that the guests are gathering in the drawing room before dinner," Ada said in her formal, polite tones. As always, there was no hint of subservience. But then, how many times had those elegant, skillful hands reduced her mistress to a trembling quivering mess? Ada had laid bare the darkest depths of Emma's lust. She'd been the cartographer charged with mapping the limits of the lady's sordid desires.

  "Thank you, Ada," Emma replied with a nod. There was more, she could tell from the way the housekeeper was standing. There was always more. Her husband's rules, even her marriage, served some higher purpose. Emma was sure of it... she just didn't have any inkling what it was. But Ada was at the heart of it... which was perhaps the chief reason that Emma acquiesced so readily to the bizarre things required of her in the fulfillment of her marital obligations.

  When she couldn't sleep, Emma often walked the halls of the great manor at night. She always found herself outside the housekeeper's door... outside the room where she knew her husband spent his nights... just listening. But while they often discussed her progress, their conversation was cryptic and offered few hints as to what it was Emma was progressing towards.

  "I shall be down shortly," Emma added when the housekeeper didn't move. "Once I have chosen my jewelry."

  Ada smiled and bowed her head. "Of course, milady. However, his lordship is requesting that you wear a couple pieces that he has picked out specially for the occasion."

  Of course. Emma pursed her lips. "Which are?" she asked, unsure that she really wanted to know.

  The housekeeper nodded and clapped her hands. Instantly a maid darted through the doorway from the hall carrying a silver tray. There were two items on it. Emma exhaled slowly. One was instantly recognizable: a peeled ginger root wrapped in cheesecloth. She licked her lips. It seemed her husband wished to see her squirm before an audience. But she had promised to love, honor and obey... and this was a discomfort she was well used to. However, the other item... a series of large balls on a thin chain... that was new.

  "What a peculiar necklace," she ventured hesitantly.

  Ada smiled. "This isn't worn around the neck, milady."

  Emma didn't blink. She had come to know her husband's tastes well... she could guess where they went, if not why.

  "Please sit, milady," the housekeeper purred, taking the strange item from the tray.

  Emma complied, taking a seat at her dressing table. She watched in the mirror as Ada crossed the room and knelt before her. It was no surprise at all when the housekeeper lifted her mistress's dress and petticoats and gently spread her thighs. Her reflection gave Emma the perfect view as Ada's lips pressed against her womanhood and tasted her welling quim. She shivered as the blonde's tongue delicately teased her open and added a hint of spit to her growing wetness. She gripped the arms of the chair tightly as the housekeeper's kiss deepened. But either this was another test of Emma's dedication to her husband's rules or it would end in frustration. Without Edmund's presence, the little death was forbidden to her... and the punishment for disobedience was severe. In the early days of her marriage, Emma had been a frequent guest in the pillory her husband kept in the ancient mansion's cellars.

  With the quim flowing freely from her mistress, Ada ceased her kisses and began to insert the balls inside her, one after the other. Emma gasped as they slipped into her pussy. They pressed not only against her, but against each other, rolling and moving in wonderful ways every time she shifted. Oh my! She let out a shuddering breath, imagining what was to come... an evening of polite small talk as these beads massaged her womanhood from within... while the spice of the ginger inflamed her desires...

  Emma fought to suppress a groan... the maids and housekeeper had heard her make far more unseemly noises, but it was best to maintain standards when possible. Her pussy squeezed around the balls sending an enticing tremor running through her body. Trust Edmund to think up some new exquisite torture. And the ginger wasn't even in yet!

  She shook her head. She needed practice before she faced her guests. What could she talk about? Some trite topic of conversation...

  The housekeeper's hand was resting unbidden on the bump of her belly. That was most improper, but, Emma supposed, decidedly less so than what Ada had just done. There was an odd, distant look on the blonde's face. It was always difficult to read Ada's emotions, but this one could almost be longing.

  "Do you desire children, Ada?" Emma asked quietly, "Some day, I mean."

  The housekeeper briefly started. A strange wry smile played on her lips. "I have a daughter, milady."

  Emma blinked. Her mouth fell open. Ada had a child? "You do?" she blurted.

  "Yes, milady. She must be almost eight by now." The words were quiet and wistful, deeply sad.

  "Where is she?" Emma asked, utterly stunned.

  Ada hesitated for a second. Suddenly Emma realized how gaunt the housekeeper was. It was so easy to forget the blonde was sick, she hid it so well. Skillful application of cosmetics and sheer force of will maintained a careful illusion of health and vitality. Emma doubted any of the maids knew... she herself had only found out by chance. But sometimes, on the rare instances that Ada let her guard down, it could be glimpsed. Right now, with the sorrow in the housekeeper's eyes, the transformation was shocking...

  Then it was gone. Ada pulled her hand from Emma's belly and stood gracefully, suddenly the very image of vigor and professional competence.

  "I don't know, milady," she said simply with a bow of her head.

  There was a long awkward silence. Then Emma coughed. "I suppose I better take my ginger," she said hesitantly. "It won't do to keep the guests waiting too long."

  Emma rose slowly to her feet and bent forward over her dressing table. She shuddered and closed her eyes as the beads in her pussy jostled and squirmed. Mabel and the other maid darted forward to lift her dress and petticoats, exposing and spreading her bare arse...

  "No, milady, it would not," the housekeeper acknowledged mildly as she stepped forward to sodomize her mistress with the peeled ginger root.

  ♠

  Dinner was difficult, but at least Emma was able to keep her movements to a minimum and largely withdraw from the conversation. But every time she cut her meat or reached out to pick up her glass, the beads would roll in her cunt, their terrible dance sending tremors through her loins. Worse, they would squeeze up against the pulpy ginger in her anus, teasing her with its heat until she couldn't help but clench and, thus, wring out more of the burning juice. It was all Emma could do to nod politely when spoken to. A few beads of perspiration did escape her control, breaking out on her forehead. But at least she avoided a shameful outburst.

  But as bad as the meal was, it had been nothing compared to the hour preceding, playing the gracious hostess as she entertained their guests in the drawing room. It was a small gathering—a trifling mercy, but Emma would take any charity she could—two of the more respectable of Edmund's old comrades in debauchery and their wives. Lady Hawthorn, or Caroline as she insisted, was older and at least interesting. Emma suspected that her past was as colorful as that of Edmund or her husband, Sir James. She certainly seemed thoroughly familiar with most of their anecdotes, even offering the occasional correction. But Jane—if either she or her husband Thomas had a title, Emma was not aware of them—was a vapid and vain creature, younger even than Emma herself. She was pretty and giggly, but, as quickly became apparent, completely incapable of stringing two sentences together. The effort of making conversation would have been trying at the best of times. But with the root burning brightly in her arse and the beads constantly sw
irling in her pussy, Emma had been stretched near breaking point.

  It had almost been a relief when Edmund had suggested that she entertain their guests at the piano. She did play passably and, fortuitously, it did appear that Jane could sing well... at least, if one forgave a certain imprecision with the words. However, the pieces requested leaned heavily towards energetic numbers that required much to and fro across the keyboard. As the constant jostling continually rubbed the ginger against her sensitive anal passage and her pussy trembled from its constant massage, Emma more than once resorted to hammering the keys to obscure a moan.

  When Edmund pulled her aside on the way to the dining room, Emma had been ready to drop to her knees and take her husband in her mouth then and there. She'd have let him push her up against the wall and replace the beads in her pussy with his throbbing member... anything to take his manhood inside herself and therefore have permission to touch herself for release. He had indeed lifted her dress and petticoats and spread her buttocks with his hands. At that moment, Emma would have even welcomed the depravity of sodomy and her dark shame at her enjoyment of it... but instead her husband had simply pulled the dried husk of ginger from her trembling bottom and replaced it with a fresh, juicy root from the pocket of his jacket. Emma had taken her seat at the dinner table agitated and unsatisfied, knowing that the contact with the hard chair would drive the spice deep into its new home in her bowels.

  The meal itself had been oddly light, almost to the point where Emma feared their guests would think them miserly. There was enough food to sate the pangs of hunger, but not enough to really fill a belly. But if it sped this ordeal along, Emma wasn't about to object to her husband's strange stinginess.

  When Edmund pushed back his plate and gestured for the maids to clear the table. Emma expected him to call for dessert. But instead, he sat back with a dark glint in his eyes.

  "What do you say to a break between courses?" he asked their guests, a smile playing on his lips. "As we had in Vienna."

  Emma stiffened. She didn't understand the reference, but Sir James and Thomas were suddenly both alert and Lady Hawthorn had pursed her lips in keen interest. Jane looked clueless, but no change there.

  "As I recall, there used to be some unusual rules in your house," Caroline purred, steepling her fingers and watching Edmund carefully over them.

  Emma's eyes widened. His rules applied even to guests? She glanced to her husband, her gaze joining everyone... except for Jane.

  Edmund nodded. "They still apply."

  "And the punishment?" Caroline asked softly.

  "The same."

  A dark smile danced on Caroline's lips as she let just her eyes flit to where Jane was sitting. "Good," she purred.

  Emma's breath caught. What was going on? She glanced at the vapid girl who was looking around the room obliviously. Suddenly all three men were watching the pretty creature like wolves around a fawn. If anything Jane's husband seemed more excited than the others... Emma squirmed in her seat, the beads churning in her pussy. This was not what she'd expected. But it was a relief not to be the center of attention for once. And she had to admit that the thought of the clueless girl locked in Edmund's pillory was strangely exhilarating. Did Jane have the slightest inkling of what was about to happen to her? Emma suspected not.

  "What are you talking about?" Jane asked, frowning.

  Caroline leaned across the table and patted her hand. "A game, my dear. A wonderful game... but be sure not to lose."

  Jane clasped her hands. "I love games. What are the rules?"

  "Only one matters," Lady Hawthorn purred back. "You can only surrender if Edmund is inside you."

  Jane blinked, clearly utterly confused. But she didn't get a chance to ask anything further.

  "Which is to be the centerpiece?" Sir James cut in loudly, eyeing the serving girls as they finished clearing the table. "They all look so enticing."

  Centerpiece? Centerpiece to what? With a sharp intake of breath, Emma turned to her husband, heart pounding...

  Edmund shot her a dark, winning smile. "Our gracious hostess will," he drawled before sharply clapping his hands.

  Before Emma could react, a stream of dancing naked women flood the dining room. Some Emma recognized as maids, others she had never seen before. She gaped at the shocking display of bare feminine flesh. Jane squealed in stunned surprise, but the other guests just smiled and sat back in their chairs.

  Emma gasped as she found herself pulled to her feet and her clothes torn from her body. One hand rose to cover her heavy, swollen breasts. The other dropped to hide her womanhood. Between them the stretched skin of her bulging belly gleamed in the light from the chandelier overhead. She stared wide-eyed as the shame of her nakedness was displayed for her guests. She could feel their eyes on her, judging, assessing, devouring her indecent display with lust avarice.

  But then bare feminine flesh was pressing against hers. Emma's arms were grabbed and held behind her. Soft lips found breasts hard from hours of the beads and nipples erect from her figging. Fingers caressed her thighs, her neck, her pregnant belly.

  Then she was being lifted up and up. Her head spun as she was carried to the table and laid out on her back, bottom at the edge, arms and legs spread and held, hands and feet clutched between the thighs of four naked girls, her fingers and toes squirming in the dripping heat of four young cunts. She heard a murmur of appreciation from her guests as the end of the ginger root bobbed and danced in her puckered anus. A maid knelt to taste her mistress. Her tongue swirled around the balls, sending them bouncing and jiggling in Emma's cunt. The lady groaned and writhed. Her swollen breasts heaved, her pointy nipples jutting up towards the ceiling. She gasped and moaned while staring up as her guests stared down, mortified beyond measure as they witnessed her shameful response to her husband's depravity.

  The older guests were used to such debauchery, if perhaps not from a lady of her breeding. But they were nodding and smiling, enjoying the sight of a young and pretty woman staked out and pleasured. In contrast, Jane's eyes were wide as they darted everywhere. She looked both stunned and puzzled, shocked but perhaps uncertain if this was normal behavior at such affairs

  Emma moaned as the skillful tongue set her arse convulsing around the root. The ginger was almost dry, but the eyes upon her induced her anus into wringing every last drop from the husk. She trembled at the liquid fire. But she was still her own mistress. The gazes of the guests—her public humiliation—were unsettling to be sure. Yet, despite the jostling balls and the skill of the maid, she held herself back from the precipice with ease. But something was wrong... if her husband truly wished to test her... where was Ada?

  She sensed rather than heard the footsteps. Emma lifted her head as a figure stalked into the room... Good Lord! It was the housekeeper! But unlike the maids, Ada wasn't naked. She was dressed oddly... in male clothes... but her breeches were open and something huge was jutting out.

  Emma blinked as the maid between her legs slipped away. Her lips parted into a little O. Her eyes widened and her breath caught. Ada had used such devices on her before. The housekeeper ravaged her many times in every hole with a strapped on ivory cock. But Emma had never seen this toy before. She whimpered, her eyes watering at the sight. Constructed from cast iron, it bore not one but two huge massive phallic shafts, each longer and thicker than any man's member.

  She trembled in fear as Ada approached slowly, her hips swaying hypnotically. But Emma's body could not hide her shameful arousal. The beads and the ginger had kept her on edge for hours, teasing her to breaking point. She craved release... and this unnatural monstrosity promised depraved pleasures like she'd never known.

  Caroline and the men leaned forward to watch closely as Ada reached out and slowly pulled the string of beads from Emma's pussy. The young lady moaned as her wet lips kissed each one as it popped free. The metal balls dripped with quim. The ginger root followed quickly, a dried out husk that was discarded. Emma's holes fluttered, empt
y and open, twin harbors for the massive ships about to dock.

  Her back arched in anticipation as Ada guided the double headed beast to her doors. Her pregnant belly rose and fell with her short, frantic pants.

  "Take her," Edmund commanded.

  Emma trembled as the housekeeper obeyed.

  ♠

  Her swollen belly rose as both iron cocks breached her defenses. She bit her lip, groaning as her arms tensed in the firm grip of the maids. The chill of cold metal against her burning, ginger-stained rectum made her gasp. The hardness of the shaft in her cunt made her full womb ache. Emma moaned as the housekeeper gently thrust into her. She'd had both holes penetrated at once before—Edmund's depravity had seen to that—but never by such a diabolical device, nor with so many eyes upon her... eyes that mattered anyway. The maids didn't count.

  She writhed, awash in sensation, assaulted from all sides. Her thin flesh rippled around the parallel spears, her internal walls conforming to their unnatural shape. A low guttural groan escaped her lips as they pinched her between them, finding with unerring accuracy that devilish spot deep inside her—the spot that made her quiver and moan... the terrible spot that stoked the boiler in the heart of her womanhood until her engine raced and threatened to explode. Her eyes rolled up in her head. This was too much. Her loins ached and glowed. Her guests leaned forward eagerly, watching her pussy and anus clench around the iron shafts... watching them slide in and out of her most intimate portals.