Fooling Priory

As the night wore on, things got boozier and Bertie was generous in handing out the gin. I could feel the world spinning slightly when I got up and I stumbled, so Bertie jumped up and steadied me.

"We'd better go," Lizzie said quickly, taking my other arm. "I don't want to get into trouble, and I need to be back soon."

Bertie seemed too drunk to care, but Lizzie didn't seem at all the worse for her drinks, so we left and I let her guide me back along the village street.

"You know what the worst thing is?" I said, a little too loud, and Lizzie shushed me with a giggle.

"What, Kitty?"

"I planned this whole April Fools' joke and neither Daddy nor Bertie ever noticed."

"Well, did you have a good day?"

"I did." I stumbled again and Lizzie's grip around my arm tightened.

"Then it wasn't a complete loss."

"I just really wanted to see Bertie getting a joke played on him, for a change."

We walked up the driveway to the servants' entrance at the back, and the light drizzle which had begun falling wetted our dresses and made us hurry the last hundred yards.

"You know what might work?" Lizzie suggested when we were inside, her dark hair damp and sticking to her face.

"What?" I asked, blinking, wondering if the alcohol was wearing off.

"I still need to turn down Bertie's room and do his fire before he goes to sleep. Why don't you do that, dress up as me, and then you'll give him a shock when he realises who it is?"

I had enough gin inside me to think that this was an excellent idea. The only snag was, we'd changed out of our housemaid's uniforms.

"You'll have to wear my dress," Lizzie said, dragging me into the servants' quarters so we could go to her room.

"Oh, no," I replied, thinking of that neckline. "It won't fit, anyway."

"Forget won't fit, you only need it to fool him for a few seconds."

"No, no, it's damp anyway after the rain, and-"

"If you don't change now, he'll be back and it won't work," Lizzie said urgently, slipping out of the dress the moment we were in her room. She picked it up and handed it to me and I looked at it, trying to decide. The thought of fooling Bertie was too good to resist, though.

Even though we lived in the same house, I didn't actually go into Bertie's bedroom very often. It was somewhat nicer than mine, with a view over the front lawns in the moonlight, but it wasn't as well-furnished as it could be. He seemed to prefer simplicity. There wasn't much there beyond a dresser, the four-poster bed and the fireplace. The fire had burnt low but wasn't out, to my relief, as starting the fire again from nothing while I was wobbly on my feet didn't sound like an easy task. I just stoked it up, though, and when it was blazing again the door opened, making me jump.

"Ah, good, you're here," Bertie said, slurring his words slightly from all the beer. "I was surprised to see you at the Eagle and even more surprised you brought Kitty."

"Mm," I squeaked, trying not to ruin the joke, facing away from him. Lizzie's dress did not look as attractive on me as it did on her, and anyway, feminine dresses like this were out of fashion. I bided my time for the perfect moment to spring the joke, otherwise he would probably just laugh at me.

"And you wearing that dress too; you just wanted to tease me. Well, it worked," Bertie went on, sitting down heavily on the bed. I heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled with rising panic. "Now get out of that dress, get over here and do exactly what you did last night, you saucy slut."

This was it. There would probably never be a better moment in my life to humiliate Bertie than right now: having his affair with a mere housemaid found out, lying on his bed, drunk, and by his own sister. I turned around, fire in my eyes as well as in the grate, ready to spring the trap, but Bertie was lying on his back on the bed, hand over his eyes, not even looking at me. However, he'd taken off his trousers and was lying there, naked from the waist down, just a shirt over his chest, and he looked like the very image of the female fantasy. In the low firelight, I could see the soft contours of his muscles, the fine hair covering his arms, the low sheen of sweat on his legs, and the mass of hair around his thick, hard cock.

I know now that, if I hadn't been drunk myself, I would have screamed, or given him an insolent line which would have given him the shock of his life. But I was actually a little embarrassed to see him in all his glory, and given the way he got away with everything, no matter how outrageous, I actually worried that I would be the one who got punished for this. And, being honest, I had never seen a man's penis in real life and I was curious. I wasn't going to get a better chance than this until my wedding night.

I looked away and put the fire screen on the hearth, darkening the room. Then, my heart in my mouth, I strode over to the bed, still half-planning to reveal who I was.

"Come on, Lizzie, don't tease," he murmured, still not looking.

This was the moment. But I didn't reveal myself. Instead, I slipped out of the dress, unlaced my stays, dropped my underwear to the floor and climbed onto him, naked, sitting just below his cock, on his thighs. It was mesmerising, in a way: an unrestricted view of a man's penis, right before my eyes. Not some kind of virginal fumbling, or a dark wedding night that was over in five minutes. I could wait a lifetime for intimacy like this.

The alcohol gave me a surge of courage. I reached out and touched it.

"Yes, that's it, Lizzie," Bertie said, with relief.

"It's not Lizzie."

Bertie's arm flew off his face and he looked at me, somehow even in this situation appearing composed. He was calm in any crisis, even this one.

"Kitty?" he asked, his hands sliding down the bed and onto my thighs, simultaneously giving the impression of being shocked whilst also touching me and showing me he wasn't necessarily opposed.

"Yes," I breathed, enjoying my moment of power. The moment of the reveal. The moment when he heard me confirm and he groaned gently, his cock responding, harder than ever. "April Fools'."

There was a pause for a moment, the only sound being my heavy breathing. I moved my hand over his cock, rubbing gently, feeling a shiver of arousal.

"Well, if we're going to do this, let's do it quickly while I'm still drunk," he said, pouring cold water all over my passion.

"Bertie, you absolute swine," I said, letting go of him instantly and climbing off, pulling out of his grip.

He just lay there, looking over at me as I stood by the bed, every fibre of my body vibrating with anger. He seemed totally unruffled.

"Come on, Kitty, be reasonable. I'm hardly about to fuck my sister, am I?"

"You weren't saying no." My hands had formed fists. He sat himself up slightly and leant on one arm, half-smirking.

"Kitty, think this through for a moment. You're the daughter of the Duke of Ruthering, your virginity is worth something. What if you got pregnant?"

"We wouldn't h-have to d-do that," I stuttered, taken aback by his calm demeanour.

"Come, Kitty, what other sex act do you suggest?" He laughed, that genuine laugh that always seemed to win me over.

"I don't know... But I'm not as innocent as you seem to think."

This made him laugh again, tipping his head back, filling the room with the sound. "Don't worry, I know all about your adventures with the bath tap in your room."

I blushed instantly, my blood running cold. "How?" I asked in a deadly whisper.

"After I put in the hot water pipes, something was draining the tank occasionally and I worked out it was happening when you bathed. I thought there was a leak, but while I was checking in the floor underneath your bath, what did I hear through the floorboards but 'oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, mm, mm, oh, oh'?"

Filled with shame, I held up a fist. I thought it was my private secret, discovering that the jet of water from the tap running directly onto my pussy felt fantastic. "You spied on me?"

"No, Kitty, I didn't spy on you, you were just overheard," Bertie sighed. "I assume you were thinking about Mr Darcy or something."

"That's not the point," I snapped, but I wasn't sure what the point was. And I was slowly becoming aware of being naked in front of him, even in the semi-darkness. He didn't seem to be making any effort to cover up and, to my annoyance, he even reached over to his bedside cabinet for a cigarette and matches. I felt like a naughty child.

"Well, what about Lizzie?" I demanded. "You're obviously... fucking her." I spat the word out, probably the first time in my life I'd used it.

Bertie went on lighting the cigarette. "She's a housemaid, she's attractive and she was the one who propositioned me. If she tells anyone, she'll be out of a job and probably destitute, as well as unmarriageable. That's life for the lower classes."

"What about a pregnancy?"

"She's been sterilised," Bertie said casually. "Some problem she developed in puberty. Don't ask me, I'm no doctor, but so far she's never fallen pregnant."

I was speechless. He'd even explained away an affair with a maid. "And Susie?"

Bertie shrugged. "Susie and I will probably have sex strictly for the purpose of procreation, and as soon as we've got a baby boy, I expect she'll move into her own bedroom. I'm not blind to how these things work."

"But you don't know-"

Bertie finally looked angry as he cut me off. "Kitty, you're twenty, you've barely left the nursery. I suggest you start learning the reality of the world and go and get Lizzie for me. I can't ring at this time."

"I won't," I said, defiantly.

"You'll go and get her or there'll be consequences. I'm your brother, don't forget I've got the right to discipline you until you're married."

I felt a thrill go through me. He was finally getting really riled with me. Well, he was going to get what he deserved. I didn't want to see him sitting there, relaxed and calm, for a second longer.

"Then that's what you'll have to do," I told him, managing to keep my voice level. "I'm not going."

He reached over and lazily stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, and I thought he was thinking of something devastating to say. Instead, he sprang up from the bed, athletically, his cock erect. I barely had time to react before he'd grabbed my arms, bundling me up against the mantelpiece. He pinned me there, the fire screen hot against the back of my bare legs, his cock pressed hard between us.

"You're playing with fire, Kitty," he breathed in my ear as I struggled against his powerful grip. "Want to get burnt?"

"Get off me," I spat, kicking at his legs, but there wasn't room to get any momentum and it was harmless. The fire was getting hotter behind me the longer I stayed there and his fingers on my wrists were pinching my skin and hurting me.

"No," he said simply, sending another thrill through me. It was like playing with a tiger: he was so powerful and I was so powerless. That single word was enough to make me shiver and I realised with rising fear that this was turning me on. I struggled all the more, managing to slide one of my arms out of his grip with a sudden movement, and I lashed out, my fist bouncing off his chest.

"That's it." There was an air of finality in his voice that made me try to pull away, to run, but now his arm was around my waist. He picked me up and strode back to the bed, bodily throwing me down onto the mattress, then dropping his weight on top of me, holding me there by my waist while I thrashed my arms and legs.

He smacked my arse, hard. It was a lot harder than I had expected and I cried out in pain. He smacked again and I stopped thrashing, his big hand leaving a stinging sensation behind, hot and spreading. He hit me again and I moaned into the bedclothes.

"Finished misbehaving?" he asked, his hand hovering behind me, arm ready to strike.

"No," I said, trying to suddenly roll over to get away, but I could barely move. He smacked me again, twice in quick succession, and there were tears in my eyes.

"Be a good girl and stop fighting me," he said, menacing, this time resting his hand on my stinging arse.

"Make me," I said, trying to look at him out of the corner of my eye, and he stared back.

"Since nothing else has worked," he said, quietly, "I'll try fucking that insolence out of you."

"Oh, God," I said, as his hand slid firmly between my thighs, prising them apart.

"Kitty, you dirty girl, you're wet," he grinned, and I blushed hotly. Still holding me down on the bed, he shifted himself on top of me, his cock sliding over my arse and then down between my thighs. I tensed, trying to push my thighs together again, and he pulled away, spanking me hard, then I felt the touch of his fingertip against my arsehole. I gasped.

"You're getting fucked somewhere tonight, and if you keep your thighs closed, it'll be here instead," he told me, rubbing my arsehole as he said it.

I relaxed my thighs, unable to even imagine what would happen if I didn't, and a few seconds later the tip of his cock was pressing up against my wetness. "I'll go slow," he whispered, more tenderly.

"Don't," I replied, in a final moment of anger.

His fingers gripped my waist and he pushed himself fully inside me. I screamed, once, then heaved huge breaths, my body burning. He pulled back and I moaned, trying to ignore the pain, and then he was fucking me hard, with long, firm strokes, his hips hitting me and forcing me into the bed. I didn't try to struggle or pull away, just lay there and took it, any thoughts of blood or discomfort my first time being swept away by just how good this felt. His whole weight on top of me pushed his cock deeper inside me each time, and soon I was lost in a haze of pleasure. My whole body was awhirl with feelings, most of them good, and the sharp points of pain only served to enhance the pleasure, like a tiny dot of lemon peel in the sorbet.

"Fuck," Bertie said, the word sounding like it had been forced out of him. "I can't go much longer."

Honestly, I had no idea what came next. My only experience with sex up to this point made the assumption that the husband finished inside the wife, so she could give him children. I lay there, moaning into the bed, my hair all over my face, waiting to find out, burning with anticipation.

He gave a final grunt, and I felt a sudden emptiness as he pulled back and out, my pussy sore but satisfied. I waited for him to touch me again, but then there was hot wetness hitting my back and my arse, spreading gently, splashing. Bertie groaned, and then his cock was touching my arse again, wet and sticky.

"I'll get Lizzie, she'll help you clean up," he said, voice back to normal. The room lightened as he moved the fire screen on his way out but I lay still, my breathing slowing, letting it sink in.

"How was he?" Lizzie asked, running a cloth over my back as I sat in the hot bath in my room, trying to ignore the stinging pain coming from my pussy and arse. The hot water was helping a lot and I didn't seem to have bled much if at all. Lizzie was in her nightclothes and looked worn out, but still smiling.

"Angry, I think," I replied.

"No, I mean, how was the sex?"

"Oh. Good, probably."

Lizzie sighed. "I remember my first time. Donald Tall, behind a hay rick. We seemed to barely have begun before he finished. Bertie is a lot more fun. So long as you enjoyed it, that's what matters."

I blushed when I thought about the fact that my brother also had sex with Lizzie.

"I'll get some balm for you to put on before you go to sleep," Lizzie carried on, oblivious to my blush. "It'll help soothe things. Now stand up, I need to rinse you. Semen's the very devil to get off sometimes."

After church the next morning, Bertie walked back to the house with me, waiting until we'd got ahead of Mummy and Daddy to talk.

"How are you feeling? Not too rough?" he asked, sounding surprisingly sympathetic.

"Okay, yes, thank you," I replied, unsure what our relationship was. He laughed gently.

"Something good to think about when you were repenting of your sins, hmm?"

I blushed. "You're the one who's sinful," I hissed back.

"I see that insolence is still there." He sounded matter-of-fact.

"Well, so what if it is?"

We both recognised this as flirting and exchanged a smile.

"If you're feeling on top form again, feel free to come for another lesson tonight," he said, a warm feeling rushing through me, and then he jogged ahead to catch the gardener for a chat.

I couldn't make up my mind whether I should go. In the end, I went to bed instead. It felt too intense. But lying in the darkness, just the slight glow of my bedroom fire playing on the ceiling, it reminded me of the night before and suddenly I wanted him again. So I got up and slipped down the landing to his room.

"Ah, you're here," Bertie said, sounding pleased when I went in. He was lying on the bed, head propped on a pillow, while Lizzie, completely naked, sat on him, moving her hips up and down as they fucked.

"Oh, I didn't realise-"

"Come in." Lizzie smiled, her breasts bouncing, breathless. "I don't mind."

"Maybe I mind," I pointed out.

Bertie looked at me. "Kitty, don't test me."

I felt a little hurt that before even one night had passed, he was already back in bed with Lizzie. "I'll go," I said, turning.

Before I could reach the door handle, Bertie's hands were on me, grabbing and turning me even as I tried to get out of his arms. He lifted me, my legs kicking, and threw me down on the bed. But this time around, I landed not on the bedclothes but on Lizzie, our breasts colliding and our legs tangling together.

"Hello, Kitty," she said, softly, looking into my eyes.

I blushed and she giggled.

She breathed the next words to me as Bertie stood between my legs, both of us naked before him, getting his way. Again.

"I can't wait to watch you fucking your brother."

THE END