The Hesitant Bride

by Cecelie Hart

  Emma shuddered and bucked, but the maids held her tight and the housekeeper showed no mercy. Ada impaled her with relentless efficiency, guiding her twin weapons with a duelist's skill. Emma felt a shrill wail build inside her. It filled her lungs. It made her hard breasts heave and ache. Ada's hand was between her thighs... the lightest of touches against her engorged rosebud. Each thrust was a Herculean challenge. Every fiber of her being was calling out for her surrender. Just wave the white flag and let the little death take her.

  But she couldn't... she wouldn't... The guests—all except poor Jane—knew the rules. They were watching avidly waiting for her to break, anticipating her punishment in her husband's pillory. She would not give them that satisfaction!

  Biting her tongue, her arms twitching in the tight grip of the maids, Emma lifted her head and met her husband's eyes with a look of defiance. He could have her ravaged by iron cocks while his friends looked on, but her pride was intact. She'd vowed at the altar to obey him and his cursed rules. And she was still a lady, her word still meant something... in public, anyway.

  Edmund's lips curled up in a smile. His dark eyes sparkled and he clapped again. Not all the naked girls were holding Emma. Those unemployed darted forward obediently. One knelt between the legs of Edmund and each of the guests, lifting skirts and tugging at breeches. The soft, wet sounds of hard cocks being sucked and pussies being licked were added to Emma's strained moans and the damp squelch of her double violation. Jane stared straight ahead, her eyes glazed and stunned as a young redhead worked diligently between her thighs. Her mouth dropped open, a look of shocked wonder slowly spreading across her face.

  Perspiration beading on her lifted head, Emma gaped. What was this? Her concentration wavered. Ada chose her moment, guiding her twin cocks with expert precision against both sides of that sinful spot deep in her mistress's cunt. Emma cried out as she convulsed. She stretched to breaking point... but caught herself. Trembling with effort, she fought her pleasure down.

  Jane was already a bewildered mess. Her head was lolling. Her eyes had rolled up as the maid between her legs held her expertly on the edge of orgasm. The poor girl looked like she didn't know what was happening. Emma wondered if she'd ever cum before... or if she understood the consequences of succumbing...

  Caroline was breathing heavily, her covered bosom heaving, as she watched the heavy iron dildos plunder both of Emma's quivering holes. Her hands clutched at the skull of the girl working diligently and skillfully between her thighs.

  "Edmund," she purred throatily. "Be a good host."

  "Of course," Edmund replied politely. He stood, pulling his thick, throbbing member from a little brunette's throat. "With your permission?" he asked Sir James.

  His old friend was busy ejaculating across the face of a breathless and pretty blonde, but he nodded. "Go right ahead, my good man."

  Ada's hand dropped to Emma's swollen rosebud as Edmund took a couple steps over to Caroline's chair. Her strokes matched the steady rhythm of the iron cocks sliding in and out of her mistress's cunt and arse. Emma groaned, drawing blood from her lip as she fought to keep herself under control. She watched in envy as Caroline gratefully bent her head and took Edmund's cock between her lips. The guest instantly began to shake and moan as she let her orgasm take her. As she finished, she gasped for breath and let his shaft fall from her mouth. Panting hard, she leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes.

  Emma groaned as she watched the older woman's joy. Few things were as beautiful as a woman in climax. When Ada's strokes sped, it took every ounce of her willpower not to follow Caroline into ecstasy.

  Jane was staring wide-eyed. In an uncharacteristic burst of comprehension, she held out her arms in a wordless plea.

  "Thomas?" Edmund asked. "Should I show mercy to your beautiful bride?"

  To Emma's surprise, Thomas nodded. She could have sworn they were setting the girl up for a night in the pillory. But Edmund circled the table, his erect cock glistening with Caroline's saliva.

  The foolish girl gasped in relief as he drew close, opening her mouth wide for him. Emma saw the need burning in her eyes... But Edmund paused just out of reach. "Now," he drawled.

  Jane's expression changed abruptly as the maid between her thighs stopped holding back. She blinked in surprise then began to thrash and buck in her seat, crying out in ecstasy.

  Emma groaned as she saw the euphoria bloom in Jane's eyes, but she could also see its cost... she could see Jane's naked body dangling from Edmund's pillory as his depravity stripped every vestige of innocence from the vapid girl's gorgeous nubile body. Emma moaned, picturing her husband's cock entering Jane's tight virgin arse, imagining the girl's cry of shock and shame... She remembered her own mortification as Edmund sodomized her bound and helpless body and the darkly thrilling taste of the cucumbers he'd used after sating his own lust.

  Did Jane know how lucky she was? In the darkest moments of the night, Emma still thought of that day. There had been others... many others... but none compared to that first... Joy was still blazing from Jane's slack face... it was beyond beautiful, made exquisite by the dark shadows looming...

  Caught between the Jane's wonder and her own shameful arousal at the girl's fate, Emma let her guard down. Ada thrust hard. Her iron cocks plunged deep... her fingers danced on her mistress's aching rosebud.

  In an instant, Emma lost control. She bit her lip and clenched her fists, but to no avail. Her back arched. Her pussy and anus convulsed, kissing the cast iron as something broke inside her.

  With a soft, despairing cry, Emma followed Jane into disobedience and failure, wallowing in the dark embrace of the little death...

  ♠

  Due to her delicate condition, she was spared the pillory, for tonight at least. Her husband decreed that the majority of her punishment would be deferred until after the birth. Instead she spent the night alone in her room, listening to the faint cries as Jane learned the shameful delights due to those who broke Edmund's rules.

  But it was another image that haunted Emma's sleep. As Edmund and his friend's had eagerly carried poor Jane to the cellars, she had looked back into the dining room.

  Gaunt and thin, all illusion of health gone, Ada was sitting silently on a chair. The housekeeper was staring at the wall... as if Emma's failure had been her own.

  ♠

  The guests left the following day. Thomas, Sir James and Lady Hawthorn were all in excellent spirits. Jane was quiet and uncharacteristically thoughtful, wearing the dazed look of a woman whose world had just fundamentally shifted... and was trying to decide whether the change was for good or ill. Emma recognized the mix of shame and exhilaration underlying the girl's glazed expression—she'd seen it often enough in her mirror.

  The mood in the house afterwards was distinctly subdued, although Emma supposed Edmund might simply be tired after a night of wanton depravity. She was left to her own devices, unaccosted and unsatisfied.

  That night, as soon as she was sure the household was all abed, Emma ghosted through the corridors in her nightdress to stand outside Ada's room. She had long since come to terms with skulking through the mansion that was hers in name. Confronting Edmund outright would be pointless. Her questions would flow off him like water off a stone. She had no illusions as to her place. She might be his wife. His seed might be growing in her belly. But another was his confident and held his heart. Another was the true mistress of this house. Eavesdropping was her only source of information. With one hand on her swollen belly, Emma placed her ear against the housekeeper's door.

  "Come now," she heard in her husband's deep voice, "the failure was not total. There is still hope. She held strong through the shame of eyes upon her violation. The audience will not break her. If Jane had not surrendered first, she might have succeeded."

  "And that is her flaw," the housekeeper replied wearily. "And you are fool if you believe she will not find it."

  Emma blinked, struggling to parse the rejoinder. The f
law was clearly hers. But who would supposedly find it? The word 'she' had practically been spat.

  "We have time," Edmund responded, his tone reassuring.

  Ada replied with a brittle laugh that became a deep rasping cough. "Perhaps less than you think. Her condition grows too delicate... as does mine."

  "I shall send for the doctor again," Edmund said softly. "But you are still strong. You are still my star. Your light still brightens my life."

  The housekeeper gave another thin laugh. "Forget the quack and mind your wife. Her will is stronger than I dared hope, but remember what awaits her. I failed... and if we are not ready, so shall she."

  Failed? Failed at what? Emma's eyes widened as she strained her ears. It was hard to imagine Ada failing at anything.

  "I know, my love," came Edmund's quiet reply. "But rest now... I... I shall think on it. She will be ready. And if not... you have my word, I shall go to war. If necessary I shall burn the world."

  "That is not a war you can win," Ada retorted sadly.

  "I would fight it anyway."

  "I know and I love you for it."

  Emma held her breath as she pressed against the door, desperate for any clue as to what they were talking about. Instead of answers, she'd found a hundred more questions.

  She waited in the hallway for over an hour. But they said no more.

  ♠ ♠

  If her husband's ruminations bore fruit, Emma saw no sign of them. Indeed, seemingly out of respect for her condition, his tests of her fidelity to his rules ceased. With her belly swelling, Emma found herself uncomfortable and cranky, her hormones making her distinctly antsy. It was only later that she realized quite how deeply Edmund's rules had become embedded within her. Not once, despite her frustration, did she consider seeking relief from her own hand.

  The days passed interminably, but they did pass. Mabel's time came and she bore a beautiful, healthy daughter, the older half-sister of the child in Emma's womb. On her own turn, Emma was blessed with an easy labor and a hearty, vital son. Her primary duty as a wife—the duty she'd regarded with such trepidation on her wedding day—was complete. Edmund had his heir and he doted on him, far more so than Emma had expected.

  After she passed George—named for both Edmund's father and his oldest brother—to suckle with his half-sister at Mabel's breast, Emma lay back exhausted in her bed. But as she dozed content and happy, she could't help wonder how long it would before her husband's mind turned to other matters. The housekeeper was growing increasingly gaunt. Time must be pressing hard, Emma knew her training—for whatever mysterious ordeal was in her future—would soon resume.

  ♠

  A visit from her parents was arranged. That they wished to see their grandson was no surprise, but Emma had not expected Edmund to suggest it without prompting nor that he would invite Anne, her younger sister, too. She supposed he could be playing the part of a dutiful son-in-law. But such niceties were not her husband's custom.

  Her suspicions hardened when, on the morning of their arrival, she awoke to a deep kiss between her thighs from her new lady's maid and a ginger root upon her dressing table. She broke her fast with her husband as they had when first married and she welcomed her parents into her home with Edmund's cum hardening on her breasts beneath her clothes. When she kissed her mother's cheek, she did so with the taste of her husband's cock and her own quim mingling on her lips. When she guided her family through the gardens, she did so with a string of metal beads squirming in her cunt, each step exquisite torture. When she sat in the nursery and watched her sister play with her infant son, she did so with a bottom full of ginger...

  But if her husband expected a reaction, he was to be disappointed. By now, such things were trifling inconveniences... indeed she welcomed them. Not only did she find she'd missed them frightfully, Emma had also forgotten quite how terribly dull her mother's conversation could be.

  At dinner, she sat with a root burning her arse as her father dropped heavy hints about her sister's future. Anne was nearly nineteen now—older than Emma had been when she wed, and she'd practically been an old maid. Several offers had been made for Anne's hand, but only from doctors and lawyers and young men whose fathers practiced trade. Before Emma's marriage, with the family fortunes in disarray, such a match might have been acceptable. Now their father had his eyes set far higher, clearly angling for introductions to potential suitors amongst his son-in-laws acquaintances. Edmund was as polite and gracious as Emma had seen him. He'd certainly pulled out all the stops for dinner. Succulent dishes fed them and fine wines filled their glasses—not just of excellent vintage, but chilled to counter the evening's heat in buckets of ice from his ice house. But he was not particularly forthcoming on this issue. But perhaps that was for the best. Emma was less than certain that her sister would find a good husband amongst the scoundrels and rogues that he associated with. If her father new the truth about her own marriage, he would die of shock and shame.

  She tensed and stiffened when Edmund clapped his hands to call for dessert. But only an extravagant dish of exotic fruit and rich iced cream appeared. Perhaps she was doing him a disservice. Not even her husband would be so base as to have her ravaged in front of such intimate company.

  ♠

  Her family retired early. Her parents were clearly tired from their travels, and even Anne seemed strangely anxious to be abed. Emma checked in on George in the nursery, but he was sleeping soundly, sharing a crib with his half-sister under the watchful eyes of Mabel.

  Back in her chambers, Emma dismissed the maids once they had helped her undress and change into the light, silk shift she preferred to wear at night. She removed the dried-up ginger from her bottom and the chain of beads from her womanhood and stared at them wistfully. They had kept her on edge all day, and wondering as to Edmund's plan. There must be one... and if it hadn't happened, that meant it was yet to come.

  Rather than going to bed, she sat up in a chair reading. The book was frivolous, but that didn't matter. She found she often barely remembered the previous sentence, let alone the previous page.

  She closed the book at the soft knock, not only pleased that she'd been right, but strangely eager to uncover the details of tonight's depravity. A day of beads and ginger had left her antsy, her body prickly and her mind restless and curious.

  The housekeeper slipped in silently, not waiting for a reply. Another time, Emma might have bristled at the impropriety, but this evening she merely wished to get on with it. When Ada beckoned, Emma stood meekly, not bothering to maintain the deception of who was the mistress here.

  Besides, this was new and interesting. Usually Edmund's depravity came find to her. Emma was unused to traipsing through the manor to seek it out. Her lips pursed as they approached the south wing. This was where the guest rooms were housed. Had she been too charitable to her husband? Did he indeed intend to make her parent's watch as he laid bare their daughter's wanton nature?

  But to her surprise, the housekeeper stepped into a dark alcove and pulled on an ancient iron sconce whose candle had long since burned out and never been replaced. Emma's eyes widened as part of the wall opened, revealing a passage beyond. The house was old... old enough that parts of it had been built during the troubled times following the English Reformation. Was this an old priest hole? Had Edmund's ancestors been among the aristocracy that had built special rooms to hide their favored clergy from persecution?

  It was dark in the passage, especially once Ada closed the door behind them. But faint light did leak in through small holes in the walls. Once her eyes adjusted, it was enough to move safely. There was dust, but less than there could have been. It had certainly not been hundreds of years since the passage had last seen use. As she followed the housekeeper into the gloom, Emma peered through one of the holes. Her breath caught as she found herself looking into an empty guest room. Oh... Spy holes... Emma smiled wryly. Was she staring out from the eyes of a portrait like in some penny dreadful?

  Ada l
ed her silently some ways in the dark passage to a particular pair of spy holes. Emma put her eyes to them, already guessing what she would see. Faint sounds could be heard from the room beyond... Anne's room.

  Emma watched without great surprise as saw her little sister writhing naked on the bed with Daisy. Yes... that was whom she'd have sent as well. The pretty and playful maid was a natural seductress and her skill with her tongue and hands nearly rivaled Ada's.

  Anne's head was thrown back, her face red and choked with lust. Daisy's mouth was on her breasts, the maid's hand was dancing between her thighs. She was teetering on the edge of ecstasy, flushed as she moaned with her impending euphoria.

  But Emma knew better than to expect her sister to be allowed her joy. Her lips twitched as she watched Daisy move to kiss Anne softly, teasing her lips with hot breath... before taking the girl's wrists and deftly bind them with silk cords to the headboard. Anne moaned, clearly delighted by the unexpected naughtiness of the game. Her hard little breasts heaved as the maid's mouth kissed its way down her neck, through the cleft of her bosom, across her stomach to the squirming wetness between her thighs.

  Emma shook her head at her sister's foolishness. The maid had brought ropes to their liaison unbidden... did Anne really expect the surprises to end there?

  But Anne was groaning in pleasure at the intimate kiss. Her eyes closed, her back arched, her arms strained at her bonds. She squealed in surprise as the maid abruptly grabbed her ankles and lifted them high, forcing them behind her head and binding them together with another silk cord. She blinked and opened her mouth to scream, only to find a hard ball sliding between her lips. Before she understood what was happening, the girl was gagged and hanging from her bound arms, her feet securely fastened behind her head.

  Emma purred and shifted, feeling a flutter between her thighs. Ada had done this to her once or twice. It put a terrible strain on the legs and arms, but that just enhanced the pleasure. Anne's wet pussy and firm arse were spread and exposed, easily accessible and on display in their full youthful glory. A little trickle of quim ran from her quivering, soaking womanhood. It was pooling in the dark depression of her anus, glistening in the light from the lamps. The girl's eyes were wide and indignant, but they rolled up in her head as Daisy bent. The maid's tongue flicked Anne's rosebud as it stroked the puffy lips of her virgin pussy, before lapping hungrily at her puckered arsehole.