The Hesitant Bride

by Cecelie Hart

  As Emma watched her gagged sister writhe and buck from the dark and filthy kiss, Ada slipped up behind her. One hand slid around Emma's body and beneath her shift. The lady parted her legs to allow her easy access and moaned as two skillful fingers curled into her silky warmth.

  In the room beyond, Daisy slid from the bed to retrieve two items from her clothing on the floor. Anne watched, wide-eyed with confusion... but Emma knew what was coming. Her sister's face turned red with shame as the ginger root was eased through her tiny spit-soaked anus. Anne blinked in alarm as the heat began to spread across her firm, creamy bottom.

  Emma moaned as Ada's hand caressed her dripping cunt with tortuous finesse. Her gaze never left her sister's face... waiting for that perfect moment when...

  Oh yes! She bit her lip to maintain control, shivering as her foolish sister clenched. The shock was writ large on Anne's face as her convulsing anus wrung the spicy juice from her root. She choked on her gag and thrashed in her bonds, tears streaming from her eyes. Emma had never seen her look so pretty.

  The lady groaned as Ada's hand sped, a thumb teasing her rosebud with a feather-light touch. She grinned savagely over her shoulder as she fought back the little death. Was the housekeeper actually trying? Even with the show, it would take more than that to break her.

  A flush was spreading across Anne's bare body, her smooth creamy skin mottling red. Sweat dripped from her brow. She panted into the gag, her strength ebbing as she hung limp from her bonds. The stub of the ginger root danced as her anus pulsed, trying desperately to push it out.

  But Daisy wasn't done. Holding something in her hand, she began to lightly trace patterns across Anne's stomach and breasts. The girl reacted as if stung, arching her back and thrashing. Her hard bosom glistened wetly as she pushed it up.

  Emma blinked. What was this? This was new? She bit her lip, eyes flitting across the scene. She didn't notice Ada's other hand slide beneath her shift, not until it clasped her between her breasts...

  She squealed at the shocking cold. The ice stung as Ada slid it slowly down her belly. Emma writhed and wriggled, desperate to break its contact, but the housekeeper held her close. Her eyes bulged as she watched through the spy holes as Daisy gently slid her own shard of ice into Anne's quivering, virgin pussy.

  Good Lord! The moment's warning was not enough to prepare her for her own frigid penetration. The ice was wet and melting. As Ada's fingers left, it slid in easily and the warmth of her womanhood embraced it. The cold was shocking and painful. Her cunt ached as it recoiled, convulsing as every part of it sought to avoid the terrible contact. Her eyes watered. She couldn't imagine what Anne was going through... experiencing this on top of her very first figging.

  Emma choked back her tears and peered through the spy holes... only to see Edmund smiling back at her. On the bed, Anne was writhing, water trickling from her displayed pussy as her squirming heat melted the ice.

  But Daisy sauntered over to her master and took the tray he was carrying—a tray heaped with sparkling shards of ice...

  "Edmund!" Emma croaked through the wall. "Have mercy!"

  Her husband's lips curled up in a smile and he looked towards the spy holes. "Mercy?" he drawled. "If you wish." Her turned towards the bed, unbuckling his breeches.

  Emma blinked, then stiffened. The ice in her pussy was witching her judgement... there was only one mercy here! But he couldn't... her sister's virtue!

  "Edmund!" she cried out again. "No... not that."

  Her husband glanced back over her shoulder. "Do not worry, my dear. Your sister's maidenhead is perfectly safe."

  To far from the spy holes to overhear, Anne looked up through glazed, wide eyes as Edmund stalked towards her and loomed over her bed, his erect cock out and pointing at her. But the girl had lost the capacity for any further shock.

  "I can make this end," he told her gently. "That terrible need... I can fill it. All I need is for you to nod and I shall transmute this agony to bliss."

  "Edmund!" Emma gasped, her voice cracking as the housekeeper's fingers returned to her womanhood, sliding through the icy water trickling from her cunt. Ada's thumb found and pierced her tight anus, foreshadowing what was to come.

  She bucked and writhed on the housekeeper's hand as she watched her husband pluck the root from her sister's trembling bottom. Anne's strained face lit up with gratitude.

  "What will it be, my dear?" Edmund growled and he brandished the root. "A return to ice and fire.. or deliverance." He smiled. "One nod."

  Emma sagged against the wall needing her arms to hold her up as Ada's hand continued to cast dark, carnal magic. She saw her younger sister slowly close her eyes and nod. Her husband bore a savage grin as he climbed up onto the bed. He ran his hands down Anne's long legs, from her ankles behind her head, down to her spread thighs. His thumbs probed at her pussy, playing with the final remnants of the ice and her numb maidenhead. Then he placed his huge cock against Anne's cherry arsehole. Emma groaned as he thrust and her sister arched her back to meet his cock.

  She groaned, unable to take her eyes of her husband sodomizing her eager little sister. His hand teased Anne's straining rosebud as he plunged into her tight, young bottom. Ravaged by ice and ginger, the virginal girl had no defenses against his skill. She was bucking almost instantly, overcome and overwhelmed.

  Emma fought as the dark delight rose inside her. But Anne's ecstasy shone so bright. She burned with the joy of her depraved surrender. Emma wept as Ada's hand stroked with unerring precision. She was breaking... holding herself together with the thinnest of threads.

  And when she saw her sister shudder with pleasure as her husband's seed burst deep into the girl's behind, Emma failed...

  ♠

  As she rose from the little death, Emma saw her naked sister panting through her gag, sagged on the bed, held up only by her bonds. Edmund's seed was bubbling up from the girl's gaping arse, a pearl river winding its way down to the sheets. Exhausted wonder shone from Anne's eyes. Had that been her first orgasm? Emma suspected it had. The mix of ecstasy and pain on her face had been intoxicating to watch... her shame at the wanton penetration, her desire for it anyway. It had not been her own pleasure that had driven Emma over the edge, but her sister's...

  Her flaw... She could control the dark part of her that craved her husband's pillory, but not the part that wished to lock others in it and watch as they faced the truth of their desires. She wasn't sure she could control it.

  Still weak from her climax, Emma bent her head backwards and peered up to meet Ada's eyes.

  "I am sorry," she murmured.

  The housekeeper blinked. "Milady?" she asked in uncharacteristic confusion.

  "I am not ready," Emma whispered. "I may never be. Whatever it is you want from me... I do not know if I am capable of it."

  Ada stared at her, her shock written plain on her face. She blinked twice, then her expression softened.

  "You are what you are, milady. I cannot ask for more." The strength seemed to sag from the housekeeper and her hand rose to her mouth to stifle a dry, hacking cough. "No one is ever truly ready to face the devil."

  Emma paled, a shot of panic surging through her. Right now, she could believe anything of her husband. "The devil? Truly?"

  Ada's lips twitched in a half-smile. "No milady, but as close as I ever wish to see." She sighed. "Alas, it won't be long before I see if that wish is granted."

  "Then it's time," Emma told her. "Ada, you cannot wait."

  The housekeeper hesitated, then bowed her head. "I'll tell him tonight," she whispered.

  Emma nodded. The die had been cast. One way or another this would come to a head... and she might finally learn what in the blazes was really going on!

  A noise through the wall brought her eyes back to the spy holes. Daisy was untying Anne and removing her gag.

  "This should be our little secret," Edmund told her softly. "If your parents or sister found out it would only bring you shame."

&
nbsp; Emma barely restrained a smirk as her sister hesitated. "I will not tell her," Anne replied slowly, "but on one condition..."

  Edmund pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. He did not like others making demands on him. "Which is?" he asked sharply.

  Anne smiled wickedly. "That we do that again!" she purred, spreading her legs. She stretched out an arm and pointed at Daisy. "Only this time she joins us!"

  Emma blinked in surprise. Good Lord! She would never have guessed her sister would prove to be such a wanton harlot. Atta girl!

  As Edmund grinned and strutted back towards the bed, Emma found herself wishing for a seat. Standing was getting uncomfortable, but she didn't want to miss a minute of the show.

  ♠ ♠ ♠

  A Game for the Hesitant Bride

  A Trial of Hooks and Ginger

  ♠

  The rattling of the carriage wheels against the rough cobblestones was lost in the din, a faint annoyance amidst the cacophony. But the shocking jolts, easily felt even through the soft, padded cushions, were a constant reminder of their motion.

  Lady Emma closed her eyes. She wished she could close her ears... and even more so her nose. It had been some time since she had visited London. Indeed the last time had been long before her marriage on some shopping trip with her mother and sister. Had it been so loud? Had it stunk like this? She didn't remember it as being so bad. Perhaps her memories were colored by the excitement of youth. Perhaps she had grown too accustomed to the seclusion and quiet of her husband's country estate. Perhaps her tension at their purpose amplified every irritation.

  At a cry from the driver, their coach turned. If anything, the road grew rougher—the cobblestones were less worn down from perpetual use. But mercifully the din did lessen. They must have left the hullabaloo of the rough throng for more civilized paths. There were still cries and yells from outside the carriage, but they were more domestic in nature and less concerned with the ceaseless business of the city.

  When they came to a halt a few minutes later, Edmund glanced out of the curtained window and nodded to the housekeeper sitting silently beside him. Ada had grown thin and frail in the preceding months, only her presence and her residual beauty maintained any illusion of her former health and vitality.

  It almost seemed cruel that, when Emma's husband stepped down and offered a hand in assistance, it was to her and not the servant. Of course, to do otherwise in public would be unthinkable.

  Her feet safely on the ground, Emma stared up at their destination. She frowned. This didn't seem like the location of London's most secretive and debauched gentlemen's club. This looked like a perfectly ordinary row of city houses. They certainly lacked the opulence of the residence her husband maintained in the capital. They lacked the even the lesser grandeur of the house that he had once occupied as a youngest son, unlikely to inherit except by gross misfortune. These were the sort of dwellings occupied by bankers and lawyers and those successful in trade. Emma had once wondered if her future was to take place in a home such as these. If the financial assistance resulting from her marriage to Edmund had not saved her family estate, that might well have been her fate.

  She glanced back. Her husband was hovering by the carriage as Ada dismounted. It would be unseemly for him to offer the housekeeper an arm and the frail blonde would have refused it anyway. She held her head up proudly as she descended, gracefully but very slowly. Edmund had tensed. Emma could tell he was ready to leap if Ada fell.

  With all three of them assembled on the cobblestones, Emma took the arm her husband held out and they climbed the unassuming stairs together to a modest front door. The housekeeper trailed an appropriate distance behind. Edmund took the solid, wrought iron knocker and gave it three solid blows. The dull thuds seemed to reverberate through Emma's tense body.

  It took longer than it should—perhaps a calculated insult. Edmund's mouth thinned and twitched. But eventually the door opened and a handsome if slightly effeminate footman looked out.

  "Lord Berringham. Here to see Madame Silk," Edmund announced quietly through gritted teeth,

  "Does milord have an appointment?" the footman asked, his light almost girlish voice containing absolutely no trace of deference.

  Edmund flinched, but controlled himself. "Yes," he hissed, handing the footman his hat.

  The servant glanced at it and waited far too long before taking the garment and bowing. "Of course, milord," he replied smoothly.

  The inside of the house looked more like what Emma had expected. The decorations were richer and more opulent than the exterior would suggest, even if they did skirt dangerously near poor taste. The sculptures and paintings had clearly been chosen with more of an eye towards the exposure of bare flesh than to artistic merits. All of them hinted at scandalous behavior... and one or two of them did more a lot more than hint. Emma found herself blushing at a portrait of a lady kneeling before what was presumably her husband... although that did invite the question of the identity of the gentleman lifting her skirts from the rear.

  A curving staircase decked in lush crimson velvet led down from the main hall into what Emma supposed must be the gentlemen's club. The flickering shadows from the hanging lanterns made it appear a descent into damnation. Most appropriate, she supposed. Emma had heard of the old Hellfire clubs that been popular amongst certain portions of the aristocracy decades ago—mostly from crude jokes by her late grandfather and from chiding comments by her grandmother, neither of which she imagined she was supposed to overhear. They had fallen from favor as the moral fiber of the country improved... or at least, had faded from view. Beneath the unassuming row of buildings visible to the street lay the House of Silk, the direct descendent of those wanton dens of depravity. In the rooms hidden beneath their feet, the rich and powerful came to be entertained in manners that would be unacceptable in the public world. Emma had no desire whatsoever to learn the details of everything that transpired down that crimson staircase. That she would soon make her own descent was daunting enough.

  But instead of down, the footman lead them up. He left them in a simple drawing room, decorated with more tasteful art that Emma suspected had been far more expensive. Light reluctantly dripped in through a large bay window. Its orientation and the surrounding buildings seemed to conspire to keep the sun out. The only furniture was a row of chairs. Not simple exactly... they had cushions and well-tailored upholstery, but certainly not luxurious. The solid and intimidating double doors on the far wall made the purpose of the room clear. This was a place where one waited—and not in complete comfort—on the whim of the owner.

  "Please be so good as to wait here," the footman purred in a cloying mockery of obsequiousness. "Madame Silk will be with you shortly." Without waiting for a reply, he backed out of the door they'd just entered through and closed it behind him.

  "Madame Silk is a petty bitch, who will predictably make us wait," Edmund muttered audibly under his breath.

  Emma glanced at her husband, wondering at his language, then blushed as she saw him pull down his breeches and sit on one of the chairs. His hand was on his cock, coaxing it to hardness. She glanced around, blushing furiously. Here? Now? Did he want her to do something?

  But to her surprise, Ada dropped to her knees between Edmund's spread legs and took his cock into her mouth. Emma gaped. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen the housekeeper do this before—usually it would be her job... or a maid if one of them needed disciplining. And Ada wasn't taking her time or employing any of the terrible finesse Emma knew so well. The housekeeper was sucking cock in an efficient, almost mechanical manner. She wasn't pleasuring Edmund so much as milking him as quickly as possible.

  "Do take a seat, my dear," Edmund told her, patting the chair to his left.

  Still blushing furiously, Emma sank into the indicated seat. Her husband took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Between his thighs, the housekeeper's head bobbed furiously.

  "I could have done that," Emma stammered uncertainly. "Wit
h Ada so weak..." While they certainly did not have a conventional marriage, tending to his physical needs did largely fall under her purview. Though, come to think of it, he had been subdued for the last few days. Emma's arse hadn't taken her morning ginger since they'd left the country. She rather missed it. Her bottom had grown so accustomed to its spicy heat that its prolonged absence was almost uncomfortable.

  Her husband closed his eyes. He squeezed his wife's hand again and grunted as he came in the housekeeper's mouth.

  "Ssshh, my dear," he cautioned with a shiver. "You will understand soon."

  He released her hand as he pulled up his breeches. Ada stood and daintily wiped the corners of her mouth on the handkerchief he offered her. The housekeeper's expression was odd, her lips flat and strangely unmoving. Her cheeks almost seemed slightly bloated... although it was hard to tell with the subtle make-up she wore to conceal how frail and pale she'd become. The blonde wordlessly took the seat on Edmund's right.

  The double doors opened abruptly without a knock. An older man stood between them. He was dressed like a butler, but the hardness of his face and the scar above one eye belied a life of service.

  "Madame Silk will see you now, Lord Berringham," he announced in a low growl.

  When her husband stood, Emma followed suit. On his far side, Ada did likewise. Edmund led as the three of them passed through the doors without speaking. The hard-faced man didn't bow or offer any display of deference. He didn't follow them in, instead closing the doors behind them.

  Beyond was an office, rich, lavish and opulent. The chairs here were luxurious and cushioned, better suited to a lord's drawing room than a place of business. A large mahogany desk covered in leather-bound ledgers dominated the room. Overhead a chandelier sparkled in the bright sunlight pouring in through the large windows. Two parchments sat in the center of the desk, tall quills and an ink pot standing beside them.