Evelyn's Victorian Dilemma

Henry was as good as his word, instructing his bank to send a generous amount to father each month. I had protested that it was too much in my guilt for burdening him with the concerns of my family. But in truth I was grateful beyond measure.

I showed him how grateful that night in bed, sucking him almost to exhaustion before exciting him with the sight of my buttocks as I bent over the foot of the bed.

"You may do as you like. Choose between my fair flower or my back avenue. I do not mind which."

It was not much to guess which he would choose. I maintained my composure as he lubricated me well with lanolin oil and stretched my tiny hole with his fingers.

"Uhhh."

I smarted as he entered me with an eagerness and took his pleasure.

After that, it was a regular thing. I became accustomed to it, although it was still not my favourite means of pleasing him. He particularly liked it as he could pump me to his ejaculation without being concerned that I would become pregnant before we were ready to start a family. I accepted it, aware that it was my place to please my husband. And knowing that I owed him for his generosity to my family, even if on occasions I felt a little like a threepenny whore.

And so we fell into the routine of a happy marriage. I spent my days reading and embroidering, and took charge of the few servants employed to run the house. Henry worked in finance from nine to five each day, with the weekends off. On Wednesdays he stayed at his gentleman's club. I missed him greatly those nights, but understood that men required their own company to discuss worldly matters that did not concern us women.

His appetite for me did not wane as I had heard it did in marriage. Indeed, it seemed to grow. Several times I had to remind him that such antics should be reserved for the bedroom. But it was sweet that he held such affection for me.

If I had a complaint, it was that his appetite for alcohol also seemed to grow. An after dinner whiskey became two, then three. I suspected he spent his evenings at the club in a stupor and asked that he moderate it several times.

"I do not wish to be a one woman Temperance Movement, but you are less agreeable when you drink. Nor do I like the smell of it on your breath when you are close."

"Forgive me." He said, choosing not to pour another glass.

"I should not wish to offend you when I am so in need of the delightful charms concealed within your dress this evening."

My eyes shot to the maid lighting the fire.

"Henry. Do not say such things in front of the servants."

I turned scarlet as the maid stood and looked in my direction.

"Thank you, Rose. That will be all for tonight."

Henry watched her go. Perhaps a little too closely.

"I am sure Rose is equally aquatinted to the duties a wife performs."

"Rose is not in wedlock."

"Not everyone waits for marriage."

"They do not. But I would like to think Rose is sensible enough to remain chaste. And I would thank you to have her remain that way. Keep your eyes on my buttocks." I said with irritation.

"Then I should like to see those buttocks."

My eyes widened.

"Henry. We have not yet retired."

He was standing before me, looking at me as I had not seen before. It frightened me a little. Then he smiled and sat down.

"There has been a murder in Whitechapel. A prostitute. It is said to have been particularly gruesome."

"Such things happen. But I am sure I am safe here with you."

"Indeed you are, but I would be happy if you do not walk alone on the nights I am not here."

"I do not leave the house except to walk in the park. And that is only in the day. I feel I shall do that less as the autumn approaches."

Henry's liking for the bottle did not waver. Instead it grew steadily.

"Henry, I think you should not drink so much." I chastised once more.

Henry seemed unbothered by my concern on this occasion, purposefully topping his glass higher.

"A man shall enjoy a little of what pleases him in his own home whether it pleases you or not."

I did not like what he was becoming.

"And talking of pleasing. Unbutton your dress. I wish to feast my eyes on your glorious fruits."

I was incredulous.

"Henry. There are servants in the house."

"I do not care. I wish to look upon the beauty you conceal from me."

"I do not conceal anything from you. Do we not have ... consensual relations in the bedroom?"

Henry rolled his eyes at me.

"Loosen your tongue and speak as you mean.

We fuck."

I was aghast. I had never heard such a word uttered so brazenly.

"I think you have drunk enough."

I went to take the glass from him only to be pushed away.

"Do as I ask."

"You're frightening me."

He mulled my words before downing more of the drink that was putting the devil into him. But he did not bother me again as we sat in the drawing room in silence.

I went to bed that night full of fear for my future. The husband I had so loved was still the same gentle man the majority of the time. But on occasions, he was showing a darkness also resided in him. One I had no doubt came from the bottle.

Henry was as himself when he joined me. Nuzzling my neck and whispering sweet things until I calmed my anxiety at having him near me.

"Am I still the wife you expected?"

I asked for reassurance as I turned to let him fondle my dairies. Perhaps the fault for his anger lay with me in some way.

"No man could ask for a more amenable wife.

Nor one which such tender nubs."

"Uhh."

My anger was forgotten as my fire smouldered and crackled with rising intensity.

The covers were pushed away and the cool night air swelled my nubs and covered me in goosebumps. He felt them under his fingertips.

"You are cold my dear. I should warm you."

My abdomen was lifted so that it was level with his instrument and I found myself impaled and rogered while my feet and upper back fought to support me. His hands grasped my buttocks, holding me firmly on his steed as he took his wanton pleasure of my inlet.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

"So sweet. Rarely have I enjoyed such a tight cock lane as yours."

I was crestfallen that he should remind me of his previous enjoyments at such a moment. But I could not stop his continuing assault on my inlet.

"Uhhh."

Even in my disappointment at his words I could also not quell the fire he had ignited in my belly.

"Oh god."

I writhed, twisting and turning while held firmly on the stiff steed that continued to ride my notch.

"Uhh."

Then suddenly I was released, falling flat as Henry towered over me with his hand pumping himself. I was painted from my downy moss to my fruits.

Henry fell back, twisting to lay in the bed. I lay still listening to his breathing subsiding before venturing to the wash bowl.

"Please. When we are ... doing it, I would prefer you not to refer to the whores who have serviced you in the past." I said.

"In fact. I would prefer you not to mention them at all."

He sat up.

"You think I should have led a chaste life before you?"

"No. I do not. I am not ignorant of the ways of young men. I would just like not to be reminded of it."

"Hmm."

A dismissive grunt that gave me little confidence he understood my wishes.

I extinguished the candle and climbed under the covers wondering why his respect for me had waned so easily.

FOUR

I felt uncomfortable. The drawing room was not the place for such behaviour.

"I have not seen such fine buttocks in all of my life."

Under his relentless insistence I had submitted to his demands to be titillated and despite my protestations, I stood devoid of my clothing as he caressed my white cliffs.

"I would prefer that you see them only in the privacy of our bedroom."

"Do you not find it exciting? A little daring to be naked in our drawing room."

"I do not."

I tolerated his preoccupation with my fleshy orbs as his hands continued to caress them. I wondered at the source of his unnatural obsession with that area of my body.

"Perhaps I should call Rose to offer you support."

"Do not dare."

I cringed at the horror of his suggestion. I also no longer had trust that he would not embarrass me so and glanced warily at my dress.

"Huh."

He squeezed my buttocks before gliding his hands up my sides and onto my shoulders. He gently turned me.

"Look at yourself in the mirror. Do you not see how beautiful you are?"

I could see the redness in my cheeks and the nervous tremble that played on my lips. I saw his hands as they eased around to my belly, then up to cup my fruits and squeeze them.

"Uhhh."

"I do like mirrors. It helps me see your sweet flesh from every angle. And to see your joyous face even when I am behind you."

I was not sure I agreed. It was embarrassing to see myself without dignity.

"We should go to our bedroom." I suggested again.

" I do not like to be ... please. The servants are still up."

I could see Henry's face in the mirror. He had the look of bedevilment about him. He would not relent.

"Imagine seeing yourself at that moment. The very instant you feel the flood of your bliss."

"Please, Henry."

I had let him see me in our drawing room at his constant insistence. I had entertained his need for daring. Now I feared he meant to take this thing much farther. I didn't wish to. Already, Rose could enter at any moment. This was too much.

Henry was undeterred.

"Let me make it easier for you to see."

He left me momentarily to lift the large mirror from its hook and leaned it against the fireplace before bringing a small chair and placing it in front of me. I saw his intention immediately.

"Henry. This is unseemly. What if Rose were to come in?"

"Then she shall see a natural act and our love for one another. Now bend forward and see how beautiful you are as you head towards your sweet agony."

"Can we not retire upstairs?" I protested again, nervously glancing at the door.

"I have brought a present for you today."

I stared as he picked up something he had kept hidden from me until now, wondering what further torment he could have in mind for me.

I cannot say the sight of the peeled ginger root emerging from the small brown paper bag held the same attraction for me as a necklace or charm.

"Henry?"

He smiled before passing behind me.

"Another lesson. This one is called figging."

His hand was between my shoulders, pressing me forward. I bent over and held the wooden backrest for support. It was his intention to have his way no matter what I said. And I still did not know the purpose of the ginger.

His hands went to my fleshy orbs, caressing and squeezing them. Pulling them apart to expose my notch and round mouth. I expected that he would use my round mouth again. He did, but it was not his staff he inserted there.

"Oh god."

I saw the shock on my face expressed in the mirror as the ginger root was pressed into my tight little anus. It tingled with a warmth and cooled my ring all at once.

"Uhhh."

"Isn't it wonderous?"

"No."

My legs shook and I had the indignity of seeing my hanging fruits jiggle in the mirror.

"Please. What is your intention?"

"Only to give you great joy."

His hand was stroking my other inlet, drawing out my nectar to soak my hot flesh.

"Oh god."

And when he felt I was ready, he inserted his steed and took a firm grip on my hips.

"Oh, Lord."

"Watch. In the mirror."

His hand lifted my chin and brought my attention back to the reflection of my naked body as he began to rock his hips.

"Uhh."

Without choice I watched my unwanted arousal, seeing my natural reactions to everything Henry did to me. I knew that it was what he wanted and he could see as clearly as I if I looked away.

The finger root burned. A sting that became ever stronger as he kept up his relentless slap against my orbs. My entire groin was becoming an intense inferno, pain and pleasure, ecstasy and torment.

My intention to remain silent should Rose or one of the other servants hear me was forgotten. The pain and the pleasure, no matter how unwanted, took hold of me and I cried out.

"Oh, god almighty."

I could see parts of me I could not normally see. My facial contractions and the jiggle of my flesh. I tingled from head to toe. And behind me, I could see Henry's intensity. His whole being concentrated on where our bodies connected in a union of ungodly sin.

I saw my lips tremble as I was consumed by the fire, and then I was lost to oblivion with my cries sounding as if from a stranger in the distance.

"Oh, Lord.

Uhhhhh."

Again and again, he thrust into me and the ginger root burned ever hotter.

"Oh Lord, please."

I saw myself. I saw the beautiful agony on my face. The very moment whatever magic God had given my organs with which to delight my whole being came to fruition.

"Uh. Huh."

Only the chair held me as Henry took his last strokes before ejecting his warm mettle all over my buttocks.

With him satisfied I was allowed to dress. I did it quickly, after removing that awful ginger root and throwing it into the fire. What didn't end immediately was the sensation of fire in my anus. The oils remained and so did the uncomfortable burn, only easing with the passage of time.

Henry sat and looked through his evening paper as if nothing had happened.

"There has been another murder in Whitechapel. They are calling the perpetrator Jack the Ripper."

"Why do you talk of such gruesome things?"

"It is big news. The police it seems are powerless to catch him."

I walked the room, unable to sit. The burn in my anus was subsiding, but only slowly. If I had been alone I would have torn my clothes away once more and pushed my bare buttocks out of an open window into the cold night air.

His appetite for bodily sin had been exciting when we had married. An adventure I had readily joined him on. Now it had become a search for ever more undignified perversion. The sin I had accepted as a gift of god was once again the work of the devil and I feared Henry would have me burn in hell for all eternity.

His talk of this Ripper only added to my growing distrust of his perversions.

FIVE

We were a year into our marriage, our anniversary only recently celebrated, when Henry introduced Amelia with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm that confused me somewhat.

"Evelyn. I would like you to meet Amelia.

She has come for dinner."

I stared in shock at his arrival home with a young girl as he took her coat and hat. Amelia wasn't much older, if at all, than myself. I could not help but notice she was extremely pretty with golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. To my shame, I felt a stirring of envy, although much of it came from a fear of Henry's apparent fondness for a girl who was not his wife. I couldn't help but notice with some alarm that his hand lingered too long on her arm. Not did I miss her stifled self-satisfied smiles at his closeness.

"Dinner?" I muttered discovering my voice.

"Yes. I thought we should have dinner together and you could become acquainted."

Amelia stepped closer and smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Evelyn. Henry has told me so much about you."

"That she addressed me so familiarly was another disconcerting sign that I would not like what this meant.

It wasn't my place to argue with my husband, particularly in front of a guest. Even one of whom I was still unsure as to the nature of his relationship with.

I put on a smile and said what was right.

"Of course. I shall instruct the maid that we have one more at the table this evening."

I could not help but give the mysterious Amelia a questioning look as I passed her. She averted her eyes as though hiding the true purpose of her presence. I knew then that there was some secret between them that I would find unpalatable when it was discovered.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Henry did not seem to notice my discomfort and he did not have any shame in treating her with open affection.

"The meal is delightful."

Amelia said.

"Your cook is very skilled."

"Thank you.

I stopped eating and asked one of the many questions that filled my head.

"How do you know Henry?"

"We met over a year ago. We have kept up our acquaintance since."

A year. The time of our wedding. I was angered at that but maintained my composure. I felt the knotting of fear in my stomach and my appetite such as it had been so far deserted me completely.

"You see one another regularly?"

"Weekly." Henry cut in almost proudly.

"I spend time with Amelia every Wednesday."

He was unashamed as he poured each of us more wine. My jaw fell at his apparent callousness.

"But I thought you went to the club on Wednesdays?"

"I do. It's not an exclusive club."

I shuddered. I'd assumed it was a gentleman-only club as so many were. A place where men met to smoke and exchange ideas of business and the world. Now I saw it allowed women. Young women who were very pretty. I wanted to scream and demand to know what went on at this club that I was unaware of.

I swallowed bile rising into the back of my throat deciding I did not wish to know.

"I ... think we are ready for dessert."

I rang the bell, wishing for this encounter to be over quickly.

I was waiting for him in our drawing room. when he returned from seeing Amelia safely into her carriage. I had not gone with him, preferring not to see how he bid her goodnight. I had not.

"Henry.

I do not understand why you felt it acceptable to bring this woman into our home.

Who is this Amelia to you?"

My anger was no longer contained as I prayed he would tell me something reassuring that would end the feeling of my world crashing down. His response was quite unexpected.

"She is someone who I wish for you to become friends with. Great friends."

I gasped.

"Am I not to be trusted to choose my own friends?"

"Of course, you may. But Amelia is to be a special friend. To us both."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"I do not follow."

Henry looked agitated by my confusion. It was not often I saw him as anything but kind or supportive of me, except when encouraging me to do more outrageous things in the bedroom. But there was another unfamiliar Henry in his eyes this evening.

"My dear Evelyn. Please do not behave so coyly. I have taught you so many ways of showing your love for me. This will be but another."

I was struck dumb, unsure what he meant by that.

"I shall make my position clear to you so that there shall be no misunderstanding.

Amelia is my mistress. One that I wish to have join us in our matrimonial bed."

I gasped as a faintness took hold of me. There was no doubt that the betrayal I'd tried not to believe was very real.

"Am I not enough for you?"

"I was still assessing his words, only now looking past the declaration that he had a mistress.

"You have been ...

With that girl?

What you have done is sinful."

I fought back the tears as I comprehended more of what he was saying.

"I do not expect you to have lived the life of a Monk. I am worldly wise enough to know that you will have laid with many girls before me. But we are married now. Do you not remember your promise before the Lord?"

"And do you not remember your vow to obey?"

I stared with incredulity. But also with the realisation that in an instant I had been made aware I had competition for the affections of my husband. And that I could not be sure I would be the victor in any battle.

"You think I will stand for such behaviour?"

Henry poured a large whiskey with a disconcerting nonchalance. I felt myself withering in the silence as I waited for his answer. When it came it was not as I expected.

"How is your father? Has what ails him improved at all?"

His words struck me with a cruelty I hadn't imagined him capable of. And at the same time, they served to remind me of not only my own dependence on him but also that of my family.