Virtue Ch. 02byAcaciaBlossom©
Note: At least one more chapter coming! Thank you so much for reading.
The crowd waiting for the coach at the Fiddle and Crown Inn displayed much interest in the pretty young woman held between two men. It was not very often that they saw young women whose wrists were tied behind their backs with a neck-cloth, or whose kerchiefs had been pushed into their mouths and tied there with another neck-cloth. Angier and the other gentleman, whose name was Fish, were asked to explain their story over and over again, and each time the crowd became more and more enflamed with righteous fury at the gall of a strumpet who would run away from her master and then take up whoredom. Upon the coach's arrival, Angier and Fish took up seats on the back and pulled Virtue up after them, to sit between them so they could keep watch over her.
Virtue feared that she would tumble off the coach when it began to move, but Angier and Fish held onto her arms tightly and saved her from that peril. At first she believed that she must only endure the uncomfortable jouncing of the road, but after a very short period of time once they were out of the city Angier began to be restless and look to her for amusement. Virtue harbored no hopes that Fish would come to her aid; he read his newspaper and ignored everything that went on beside him on the bench.
Angier began his depredations by pulling her breasts out of the top of her stays. Struggling produced no effect except causing them to wobble in a way that Angier clearly found enticing, as his attentions became more pronounced. He spent some time toying with them silently, squeezing them and pinching them, occasionally leaning over to plant a kiss or two on them, but eventually he began to speak to her, and the more he spoke the rougher he became.
"You are a pretty little minx, I own, and thought you were better than me, though you're naught but a servant – and an indentured one at that. I'd lay ready money that you're wishing you'd fucked me when you had the chance to keep me sweet, but you've missed it, haven't you? Now you're on your way back to your master – your owner – and he's going to beat you to within an inch of your life. I expect he'll fuck you then, and rough, too, because you're a likely, juicy wench, and that's what I'd do if I owned you. Does he give you to his manservants and footmen? I asked you a question," he said sharply, and pinched her nipples until she moaned through the kerchief in her mouth. His malice sated, he returned to his sly remarks and touches for a time, until he tired of them, and required something more to entertain himself.
"What shall we do next?" he asked out loud, though he could not have expected an answer. "Perhaps we should see your pretty garters again. I seem to have forgot what they look like, and I may be called on to describe them." With one hand, Angier pushed up her petticoats – despite her struggles – and bared her to the waist. Virtue made every attempt to keep her legs close together, but she was overpowered; Angier, handling her most roughly, pulled her right leg onto his lap and held it there. Shout as she might, the sound scarce penetrated the thick wadding in her mouth, and struggling against her bonds was to no purpose. Angier ran his hand over the pale skin of her thigh above her stockings, moving it higher and higher until it brushed against her cleft. After a pause, he pressed the side of his hand into her opening, grinding it about until Virtue shut her eyes and turned her face away in utter shame.
"Hey-dey!" he called out, so loud that the passengers in the coach must have heard. "You are a willing slut, are you not? Juicy and wet at the merest touch of a man. Had I not started on my way to return you to your owner, I would have been well-off to keep you myself and rent you out on the streets. I might have made my own fortune. Well, I know a pleasant enough way to pass the time." He roughly set about pushing his fingers into her wetness, mauling her about for his own enjoyment – but Virtue soon realized that despite her embarrassment, he was causing a strange sort of pleasure within her that forced her struggles to become more languorous and rhythmical. She could see nothing that would be giving Angier physical pleasure from his actions, but he seemed to derive a great deal of satisfaction from her humiliation, and the way that she writhed in fruitless attempts to conceal her quim from the open air, where anyone who was walking on the road might look on her most private parts. Fish's complete lack of attention ought to have made her grateful, but in some way it made her feel more degraded, that he did not even find her exploitation worthy of the slightest interest.
As Angier roughly sawed his fingers in and out of her folds, Virtue became aware of a building pressure rising in that area, which increased and increased in intensity to such an extent that she felt tears start in her eyes and gasped past the kerchief in her mouth. At last it exploded into such a crescendo that she could only throw her head back and stare at the skies in amazement. The spell was broken when Angier began to speak mockingly to her once more.
"I can feel your cunt making spasms, little bitch," he said. "You know that it would not happen if you did not truly enjoy this – you have proved all of my theories about your being a weak slattern. It is almost disgusting, the delight you take, and I can only imagine what pleasure your master must have with you." He left her a very few moments to recover from the great shock before returning to his malicious depredations in arousing her, but before he was able to bring Virtue to a second climax, the buildings of Harlem came into view. Angier pushed her leg off of his lap, though not as quickly as Virtue would have preferred, despite the strange desire she felt to remain splayed open in front of anyone who cared to look, and allowed her petticoats to fall again. There was a great deal of sticky wetness on his fingers, and before he pushed her breasts back into her stays – with a murmur of, "I will miss these pretty tits; still, at least they are mostly exposed without your fine tucker" – he wiped the hand on the front of her quilted top petticoat, where anyone might see it and know what they had been about. Until the coach passengers began to disembark, Angier pulled her close with one arm about her waist and continued to deliver his disgusting remarks in her ear, reminding her of how much she had liked his attentions, and telling her that her libidinous nature would appreciate the indignities that her master would no doubt visit on her: stripping her naked and impaling her on a slim pole standing in the farmyard, giving her body as a reward to all of his laborers at Christmas in lieu of a box, forcing her to live in a small cage at the foot of his bed where she would be handy for his every whim at night.
"How might we get to Hainsley Farm?" Fish asked of a passing carter. "We have found the gentleman's missing servant." According to the man, the way was a short one, less than a mile, and the farm was well-marked, so that they would come upon it simply by walking north. Angier was not eager to walk for any distance, but as he was now out of funds, and Fish declined to pay for him to ride in the carter's conveyance, all three were forced to take the road together. Seeing that there were no people about, Angier pulled her breasts out once more despite the shortness of the journey, though he looked at them only a little more often than Fish – it seemed to make him happy simply to know that she was discomforted in her exhibition. Once we come to Hainsley Farm, Virtue promised to herself, the gentleman there will realize that I am not his servant, and he will prosecute these men on my behalf, if he is a true gentleman. No-one need know exactly how I have been dishonored, and in true, I have not been dishonored fully. I may still call myself an honest woman.