Evelyn's Victorian Dilemma

I treated it almost as employment. A thing I did for a number of hours each week to have a pleasant life otherwise. When encouraged, I embraced Amelia, kissing her neck and suckling on her fruits.

I was not happy or pleased and my face did not show any pleasure, but I acted as I had to. Amelia for her part was more enthusiastic and I found myself taken by her lead.

"Ladies are so much more exquisite than men." Henry observed as he undressed.

I saw his excitement on full display as Amelia used her fingers to warm my cunny and bring my nectar to its flow.

"Uhhh."

I could not deny that my body found pleasure even if my mind did not.

She took my hand to encourage me, placing it on her bush. I moved my fingers knowing what was expected, hearing her purr as I rubbed her delicate flesh how I had my own on occasion before marriage.

"Side by side." Henry demanded.

"So that I may see."

We did as he instructed, our hands reaching across to each other so that we may bring each other to completion while he stood over us, watching with his steed in his hand.

"Uhhh."

In some deeply connected instinct, we brought on the little death simultaneously, writhing in our madness. Henry was delighted, his ejaculation spraying from his root to cover us.

"Uh. Fuck.

I wish my ballocks could make my seed by the gallon so that you may bathe in it."

I did not. But I was grateful that he was one step closer to being satisfied and would not trouble me too much further before he was done.

In the morning, Henry was still asleep when I woke. Amelia had gone from our bed. I moved softly so as not to disturb him and picked up my gown. I left the bedroom quickly, wishing to seek this girl whom I'd had forced upon me as an unwanted lover. To wished to speak with her without Henry's presence.

I found Amelia in the drawing room looking over the photos of our wedding. I felt a stab in my heart as I remembered how happy I had been that day.

"You were a beautiful bride." Amelia said as she sensed my presence.

"It's a life you have taken from me." My voice was cold.

Her eyes turned to me and she visibly straightened. She wore only a silk dressing gown, one of Henry's, tied loosely at the waist. Her bosom was not completely hidden by the material and I could not help be reminded of how beautiful she was. Or of how I had fondled and kissed that very flesh only hours earlier. I looked away, no longer trusting my body to respond how I wished it to.

"I'm sorry." She said with an unexpected honesty I did not understand.

I moved to pour a glass of water, offering her the same.

"Thank you."

I passed her a glass, struck by the strange normality of offering refreshment to my nemesis. I drew myself up straight.

"I am unsure as to what you are."

I said.

"How did this come to be?"

Amelia sipped from her glass and took in that air of victim I'd sensed before.

"Your husband took pity on me. In return for my good looks and ... willing disposition he has supported me financially."

"So you are a prostitute?"

Her eyes flickered at an inner pain with the accusation.

"My intention was to be a courtesan." She said.

"Courtesan is a term for a prostitute." I said with determined clarity.

"Yes. I cannot say that is untrue. But one who only serves one man." Amelia's voice was firm, protective of her dignity.

"A kept mistress." I said with disdain.

"I know what you think of me and I understand why, but I am not a common hedge whore.

Nonetheless, to my shame, I am aware that my fortune is reliant on what is between my legs.

I did not have the good fortune of finding a husband so readily as you, so I have little choice if I am to have a comfortable life. I am making the best of what I have."

I felt myself softening toward her as she went on.

"Even as an educated woman I cannot earn enough money to live and support myself alone. I have typing and shorthand skills but even with those I can only seek a wage of twenty-five pounds a year.

Options are limited for someone such as myself."

"Could you not have sought a husband of your own?"

"Do you not think that was my intention at first? I quickly found that most men were already married or had no interest in pursuing a courtship. I was not successful in my search in the time I had, and I found myself with but one offer at the point my funds ran out.

This."

She held her hands out to emphasise her meaning.

"Few men are as kind as Henry. If I am to be a kept woman, then it will be with a good man. With a man who does not raise a hand to me.

And ... I'm sorry if, for my survival, I bring you hurt. I do not mean to, but I have no more choice in the matter than you seem to."

She eased her tone and attempted to find common ground with me.

"I'm sorry.

You are lucky to have found a good man. Not a perfect man, but one who does not harm you physically."

Harm, I thought, was very subjective. There were more forms of harm than raising a fist.

Amelia went on.

"I know that I am only ...

Well..." she looked down at the floor.

"I will not take him away from you Evelyn, if that is what you fear. My only wish is to be what he has described me to you as being. And while I appreciate it may not be how you thought your marriage would be, I hope you can find it in your heart to understand I do this only to have a roof over my head and food on the table."

It did not appear I had much choice in the matter. Henry was intent on this arrangement, and while I still did not fully know the circumstances that had brought Amelia to this, I could see that she was making the best of a situation.

"What of your family?"

"I have none."

There was more pain in her tone and it struck my heart with a little compassion. I looked down into my glass as I felt myself taking yet another step towards a reluctant acceptance.

"Very well." I relented.

"But I must ask one other question.

"What we did? Did you take pleasure in it?"

Amelia looked torn.

"I cannot say it was unpleasant."

"Have you done such a thing before?"

"No. Never. It was as fresh for me as it was yourself."

"But you seemed more at ease with it than I."

"Just more practised at hiding my nervousness." She smiled.

I nodded my acceptance.

"I also did not find it as abhorrent as I'd expected." I admitted.

"It is good that we don't. It is Henry's intention that it continue."

I knew that. He had made it clear to me that Amelia was to be my lover whether I wished it or not. It was shameful, but when I considered my position, I had no more choice than Amelia if I did not wish upon myself the very fate she was attempting to escape. I'd come to realise just how precarious life was. And of how fine the line between a comfortable existence and the streets was for women.

"Then I must accept the inevitable." I offered in defeat.

"So you will not attempt to end Henry's arrangement?"

"I do not see how I would be able to. I cannot pretend to be pleased, but I will endeavour to make the best of it and avoid any unpleasantness."

I assessed the girl before me with new eyes. Not those of a wronged wife, but with an acceptance of the situation and the question of how I would view this girl in other circumstances. Pity perhaps.

"You are trapped by your circumstance, as I now am. I find my husband's demands ... unusual. And I feel it challenges the teachings of my faith. But were I to attempt to end it, I fear I would find myself in a position, not unlike the one you are trying to escape.

No. I will accept things as they are."

I took a breath before I spoke again.

"And ... while I do not think we will become friends, I hope we will find some common ground and have ... a relationship that is more acceptable."

I was still unsure if that would happen, but I would make best efforts to find the good in these events. To do otherwise would make life intolerable.

Amelia looked a little surprised at my words but seemed equally as keen to find a mutual congeniality with me.

"That would be satisfactory. I understand I cannot expect anything more."

And so the strange arrangement Henry was forcing upon us began to embed itself. We lived as husband and wife most of the week engaging in marital duties whenever he felt the desire. On Wednesdays, he stayed at the small house he rented for Amelia where I had no doubt he lay between her welcoming thighs, while I slept alone.

Each weekend, Amelia would come to stay on a Friday evening and after dinner, with the staff dismissed, we would retire together and act out Henry's fantasy life. Saturdays were much the same as they had always been on the surface, only without the benefit of a maid to light the fire or a cook. Henry, however, was able to provide a breakfast and midday meal that was at least passable. After a few weeks, I even accepted the role of cooking alongside Amelia occasionally. We exchanged pleasantries and even took walks in the park together.

In the evenings Henry used us how a child would play with toys. He had us entertain him in all kinds of ways around the house and engage in lovemaking while he watched with eager fascination. He drank whiskey as we performed and cheered whenever one of us was gripped by our critical moment and he demanded we find it with more and more frequency.

We did whatever took his fancy. After that, he would roger us to his exhaustion.

On Sunday Amelia would pack her small bag and a carriage would whisk her away to whatever little home he had her stashed in.

So far as friendship was concerned, we were not to be sisterly or even companions. But we did speak as colleagues or acquaintances without animosity. I suppose that was as good as could be expected.

Outwardly, I and Henry behaved as any man and wife, occasionally visiting my parents while keeping up the pretence of a conventional marriage. I did not like living the lie, but the truth was something I could live with much less. And each time I saw my father, he was a little weaker and each time I was reminded of Henry's unspoken power over me. So I went along with it and played my part of dutiful wife in a manner worthy of a performance at the Old Vic.

In private, Henry slowly became more of a friend to the bottle. I detested the smell on his breath. I hated that with it, more of his gentleness deserted him. Even when we were alone his appetite for my body was displayed with less affection.

Our drawing room was not a place I had sanctuary any longer. He seemed to delight in the risk of a maid discovering us engaged in his games.

"You are to obey me.

Is that clear?"

He was angry at me for refusing his demands. But at his raised voice I could not maintain my resistance.

"Very well."

I lowered myself to my knees and prepared myself to do as he demanded. I smoothed my dress and raised my face as he presented his instrument for my attention.

"Open wide."

Of all the things I hated most, it was the loss of his gentleness. It had become that I was property and no longer a cherished wife. A tool to be utilised as one would a kitchen utensil or garden implement.

I put my lips around his staff and lifted a hand to help him on his way.

"No." He commanded.

"No hands. I only want to feel the softness of your pretty young lips and the tease of your quail-pipe."

I lowered my hands to my legs and resigned myself to the long affair of using just my mouth to ease the ache that possessed him.

"That's it. Suck my whore-pipe so as I might be relieved of my gush.

Uhh."

I gave it my all, riding his long staff as close to his root as I could without retching, and back up to his most sensitive head. I used my tongue to great effect. Anything to get this torment over with quickly.

His hand gripped my hair tightly as he heated and throbbed on my tongue.

"Urhh."

With tiny thrusts of his hips, his gush filled my mouth with its salty unpleasantness. I did as expected and swallowed to avoid angering him.

"Bravo.

I need a drink after that."

He released me and secured his tackle while I remained kneeling, wallowing in self-disgust at doing as he ordered. I wished with all my heart that there was a way I could escape his clutches.

EIGHT

To parade myself naked would have been an impossibility not so long before. With everything that had happened to me, I was beyond any such feelings at my humiliation and I participated as Henry directed.

"Now isn't that a fine view."

I'm sure it was. To be standing in my drawing room as a piece of living erotic art for his entertainment was but another game to him.

"Turn around."

I did as he said fully aware that his and Amelia's eyes were on every inch of my bare flesh. They saw my globes swaying, my notch beneath my small patch of fair fur, and my buttocks with a clarity only a lover should have. But then no matter how reluctantly, that was what they were.

My eyes caught Amelia's gaze as I turned to face forward again. At the moment she remained fully dressed. An impeccable lady to the observer. I felt certain that would not last long. He would soon turn his attention to her as he already had me.

"Simply delightful.

Now serve us drinks my fine naked wench."

I went to the drinks cabinet and again followed my instructions.

"Another whisky for sir.

And what would madam like?"

Amelia sounded hesitant.

"A glass of Port, please."

I poured the drinks and took them to my watchful ... guests?"

"Oh. This is so much fun. I could have you as my naked maid full-time."

I wanted to remind him that I was his wife and not a servant. I thought better of it least he decide to punish me by keeping me this way for longer than I currently hoped.

"No what else can I have you do?

Oh yes. We should look after your health needs. It would be remiss of me to allow you the sufferance of female hysteria.

Amelia. Would you be so kind as to administer treatment?

One finger mind. This is a medical procedure after all."

It most certainly was not. It was a despicable attempt to embarrass me. To see how much he could torment me before I fought back in the sure knowledge that I couldn't. He reminded me of that with his next words.

"How is your father these days?"

I glared at him for that as Amelia came toward me. What she would do was no different to what happened in the bedroom. Only here, I was expected to stand and allow him full vision. Inside, I cried at this new humiliation.

I stood with my eyes staring across the room as Amelia, kneeling before me placed her finger on my tiny hot spot and gently rubbed it.

"Uhmm."

I cursed my body for its betrayal.

"Uhh."

Amelia's massage was constant and relentless. And concentrated on that one little spot. It was less an arousal and more a torture.

"Uh. Oh god. This is too much."

My head swayed as my heat expanded through my body. There was a weakness in my knees and I wished I was laying down for the inevitable result. Still she went on as she looked up at me.

Across the room, Henry was sitting forward, watching with intensity as my flesh was brought toward a trembling climax. I felt a hatred for him.

Between my legs, Amelia was still keeping up her massage and I could sense my flower oozing copious lady fluids. It seeped into the tops of my thighs and glistened like morning dew. It eased Amelia's rub but did nothing to quench the flame of the coming orgasm.

"Uhhh."

I ended my resistance and let the serpent within me take hold. I writhed on the very tip of Amelia's finger.

"Uhh. God."

I lost coherent thought and momentarily, I died. Then I was staggering and shaking. My flesh rippled with the shudder in my muscles.

"Uhh."

"Oh bravo."

I dropped to my knees in the throes of my ecstasy as Henry cheered and clapped me as though I were a stage performer.

"Slap her buttocks. I wish to see them jiggle."

Amelia did. A sharp smack that made my flesh ripple. I didn't voice my complaint but I noted that Amelia tempered her slap. A little sympathy perhaps. Or self-preservation knowing that the tables would turn and she would be the target of his games at my hand.

I looked up as my breath returned. Henry was joyous at my disgrace. Amelia, her face hidden from him, looked saddened for me. Once again I saw her as victim rather than gaoler.

"Now, sweet Amelia. You must accommodate me before I burst." Henry demanded as if it was his right.

As expected, it was my turn to feel sadness at another. I could see no more delight on her face as she stood and bent over for him than existed on mine.

He lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers to her ankles. And without lubrication or preparation, he entered her back avenue."

"Oh god. You're hurting me."

Amelia's pain was evident and brought from her the first words of objection I'd heard from her mouth.

"Stop."

Henry's lack of concern was also clear.

"Oh, god."

I winced at feeling her pain but could do nothing other than watch her being reduced to the level of a street wench earning her threepenny wage.

"Uhh. Uh."

She leaned on the back of a chair to remain upright as her knees looked ready to give way and her long hair fell from its clip.

"Oh, Jesus Lord."

Her head raised, mouth wide as with little control over her body she succumbed to her critical moment with an almost silent gasp and shudder.

Amelia held her composure as Henry finished. But silent tears were running down her cheeks as she straightened her clothing with unsteady hands.

"I think I deserve another drink after that."

"You should not drink so much." I offered in my disgust of him without thinking.

"You are more obnoxious than usual."

"Do not tell me what to do."

I saw Amelia's shocked expression that I would challenge him further and I considered that in his inebriated state, he might do something even more unpalatable.

I restrained myself and turned my eyes from him as with a fresh glass he circled me, running his eyes over my still naked body with a critical eye.

"Look at you."

The gentle Henry of our wedding night had gone. Washed away by drink. He was becoming a monster as we became less his lovers and more his playthings with each passing weekend. I did not know how much more I could take.

"You're sweaty and your skin blotched by your sin. Go from my sight and wash yourself clean."

I took my opportunity and ran from him.

I drew my legs up at the sound of the door and twisted my head to see which of them it was. Amelia.

"Am I not even to be afforded privacy in my own bathroom?"

"It seems not. Henry has sent me to bathe with you."

I lowered my head wondering what else was expected of me before the night ended.

"I can just sit with you if you like. He is ... intoxicated. So long as I am gone from his sight he will not know."

I considered it for a moment.

"No. You may bathe with me. I do not relish him finding us in a manner not as he has requested.

And if he should choose to join us ..."

"I do not think him capable. I have never seen him drink so much."

"Nevertheless, he will know if you have not bathed. And there is nothing more of me that you have not ... violated."

She didn't respond to my accusing words, instead undressing in a subdued manner as if she wished not to alarm me.

Amelia stepped into the tub and lowered herself. The water rose around us and lapped high at my waist. The tub was not so large that it afforded us a great deal of room and we had to wrap our legs around one another to sit comfortably.

"I will not touch you in an unacceptable manner. I promise."

I had calmed a little. Resigned to her presence.

"Thank you."

I could not help but glance over her fruits and at her ruby points, bathed in flickering candlelight.

"Though I have to admit, I no longer mind so much that you do. It is preferable to Henry's ..."