Soaked To the Skin Pt. 08

Upon the low table a silver bowl. With Lady Lyanthe's fingers now grasped around the glass disc of the stopper Hannah was brought forward, feet either side of the low table so her spread legs were positioned above the gleaming and well engraved silver. Lady Lyanthe grasped a little more firmly and then slowly withdrew the glass stopper from Hannah's sex. Her entrance had closed tightly around the stem of the pear-shaped stopper but as it was drawn out, the pear shape opened her once more. A final tug and out it came. A first splurge and then a rush followed by a steady trickle of manly cream issued from her. The ladies watched intently as their men's semen ran out of Hannah's so pretty little sex to fall down into the silver bowl, splashing and pooling. It was not hers to keep.

It was not from the decanter that the glasses were filled -- at least at first. Eight glasses of quite another liquid. Thick liquid from a silver bowl. If the glasses were not full, then they were not too empty either. Hannah was presented with a glass.

"Your health, ladies!" Lady Lyanthe's toast was drunk.

The men would join them a little later. They would, at that moment, be having another glass of port and engaging in earnest discussion, quite possibly about Hannah. Not for them the special drink -- that was for ladies only. Trousers and decorum would be restored before they joined the elegant ladies. Hannah would be sent to dress. However pretty she looked in long white stockings and a powder blue choker it was appropriate her modesty was restored. She would not, though, find her white knickers. One of the men was a collector.

Carriages at Midnight. Her father was waiting up for her. Had no doubt seen through the curtains Mr Rodney Ballantyne helping her from the car and seeing her to the front door. She might have kissed him properly, despite their significant differences in ages, had she not seen the light through the curtains. She was not, after all, going out with this very much older man, even if he, along with seven other gentlemen, had inseminated her that very night. It would have surprised her father and caused questions. The reality was, of course, she had had Mr Rodney Ballantyne's not inconsiderable penis inside her -- somewhat more than just his tongue in her mouth. Still, it might have been a nice thing to do with the ever so considerate and nice Mr Rodney Ballantyne, only she thought her father was watching. Instead, Hannah gave him a kiss to the cheek, just as she gave her father when she went inside.

"Did you have a good evening, Hannah?"

And gushingly, with eyes sparkling, she told of the excitement of meeting in the hall, the champagne, the pretty dresses and the men so smart; the lovely food and sparkling conversation and how lovely Lady Lyanthe had looked.

"Did you feel a little full, after dinner?"

"Very full, Daddy, I couldn't have taken any more."

Poor Mr Hutchings. He could have no idea that his little girl had been so used. It cannot be easy for fathers to know what husbands or, indeed boyfriends, might do to their little girls -- normal things, the things men and women do perform, but how awful if he had known the reality - not just Sir Hugh, but seven other variously endowed gentlemen had been well inside Hannah's evening dress that very evening. Nor could he have conceived of the glass stopper or its removal. What would he have thought, had he seen? What would his reaction have been? Alas, he would have been as turgid and strongly erect as the next man at the sight. Horrified, indignant, angry but tumescent -- and was his penis different again from the men at the dinner party? Was its shape yet another variation on the human male sexual organ.

Away across the fields and down the road, Sir Hugh and Lady Lyanthe were going up stairs to bed very pleased with the success of their dinner party.

"Perhaps we might have Hannah here one evening for a private little dinner, just the three of us."