Perks of the Earl of Llaregub
Droit de Signeur with Molly
Perks of the Earl of Llaregub
Cruel fate drew me to Llaregub, and deviousness for my Grandfather Perks had passed away and with his passing his fortune had passed not to my mother as father had long expected but through quirk of succession to me, of course father knew he would never be Earl but had he known mother would not inherit the estate either he would never have condescended to wed such a wasp tongued frigid harriden of a matriarch as she was universally regarded.
But thus it was and so through Europe had the message gone of Grandfather’s death and from my beloved militia camped near the Nile had I been compelled to return to the manor of Llareggub in the Welsh Marches not far from Shrewsbury.
Sadly from my arrival, welcomed most frostily by my father, and then regarded with hostility by the locals things had gone from bad to worse until before the month was out I had been branded a sodomite and become almost an outcast within my own lands and all through kindness.
But that was yesterday and today would I reclaim my honour, that I had decided, the stage was erect in the market square and my tormentor was held by unwilling guards thereon, a slip of a girl with an evil tongue, a witch in the guise of an angel, her yellow hair spilled wantonly upon the shoulders of her white smock and she stared at me with as much hatred as was humanly possible as they held her, nay not humanly for it was animal passion and hatred she displayed as they held her, her hands roughly tied behind her waist as she shivered in the November sunshine with just a thin cheesecloth smock to hide her nakedness, cheese cloth and naught beside had I ordered so I might readily tear it from her when I thrashed the truth from her presently but first there were poachers and the hangman to whet the appetite of the throng who were even now assembling.
But how had this sorry matter arisen?
Why it was down to my Mother of course.
Father was fond of sampling maidens, droit de signeur they called it, and the lord of the manor, or his heir apparent, which father had been hitherto, might lawfully lie with any maiden who came of age and wished to marry, he might sample her, enter her into the joys of marriage gently in a soft bed was the intent, but father more usually ravished them in the pig shed, or the table in the servants hall, aye even when the servants were seated round awaiting their repast such was his lack of consideration or finesse.
Poor wenches, arriving in their Sunday best all nerves and returning within the hour with best torn to rags and welt marks from fathers belt across their buttocks and his slime oozing from every orifice and with child already it appalled me entirely.
No and I said ‘No more’ when I came home, as I was now Earl and father was of no consequence.
He railed and quoted the bible, “Honour thy father !” he said.
“Honour, you?” I demanded, “I should prefer to be son of a toadfish, you repell me sire!” I averred, “No more virgins shall you sample in my house sir, off with you to the brothel if the urgency requires, don’t worry, I shall pay, though not for the prettiest nor youngest, but something quite ordinary an well used and ruined already!”
He looked at me with hatred.
“Were it not for Mama I should cast you out with naught!” I added, “Good day!”
“Geoffrey,” Mother interjected, “Molly the blacksmith’s daughter is without, your father was intending to?”
“Oh send her hence.” I said.
“Is it true you are a sodomite then?” Father asked as he wandered into the study unannounced.
“No most certainly not, I practice celibacy that my member might not rot like the common soldiery’s members when they have sampled the whores of Alexandria or worse, of Portsmouth!” I averred, “Send her to my room!”
I went upstairs, took off my coat and sat at my window looking across the valley, Molly came up all nerves, all crisp in her Sunday best.
“You know why you’re here?” I asked.
“Yes ‘Lordship,” she said.
“Bad business,” I said, “Would you rather your beloved made you a woman?”
“Lordship?” she said in confusion.
“Your beloved?” I said for I misunderstood believing she was to be wed where in truth she was merely of age and had been summoned by father because he found her so comely.
“Yes,” she said, “I should like to be loved.”
“Then sit on the bed a while,” I said, “Do you read?” I asked.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Then I shall read you some of Mr Shakespeare’s sonnets,” I insisted and I took my volume ad began to read aloud as I had so often in the past to my men as we camped under the stars among the desert sands, happy times and therein I immersed myself as I read to her for an hour or more before sending her away with a pie for her supper and a quart of barley water to wash it down with.
That should have been it but she told her parents of what transpired and forthwith the word was out, I was impotent and then that I was a sodomite with no interest in wenches what ever.
Mother heard the rumour and came to me in a rush, “Geoffrey!” she said, “What lunacy is this! you a sodomite, is it true?”
“No!” I said firmly.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Indeed!” I said, “How can you think otherwise?”
She looked away.
“Mother!” I demanded, “What is it? Surely you cannot think that of me, look at Father.”
“That’s it Geoffrey,” she confessed, “Your father, he was diseased Geoffrey, he had the Sylph disease when we wed, I would not let him near me, nor have I.”
“So how?” I asked.
“Reverend Hywell Thomas did the deed Geoffrey,” Mother confessed, “And when you were swelling in my belly he went for the monastery, he went for a sodomite Geoffrey, your father is a sodomite!”
“And you think that of me?” I asked, “My god!”
“But you have no desire for women Geoffrey!” she insisted.
“Much less for men,” I countered, “But I do Mother, but I fear disease, it is rampant in the militia, why half the force have it at times, cock rot and the like, it turns the stomach!”
“So you have no urges?” she probed.
“Indeed, but a passage of Shakespeare and a chamber pot suffice for now,” I said, “And fear not the Surgeon General himself assured me that blindness was a myth and that working the member or milking it as he called it was in every way preferable to whoring.”
“And this is the truth?” Mother asked.
“Why yes.” I replied.
“Thank god,” she said, “For your father has been fornicating with the daughters of those he had twenty years hence Geoffrey, he may have had children with his own children!”
A wave of nausea swept over me, “They might be my sisters, Molly might have been my sister!” I cried.
“No, no, I told you,” Mother insisted, “You are the reverend’s child, that’s why you read so eagerly, have such devotion to duty Geoffrey, why you are so unlike my husband.”
“Oh my lord,” I gasped, “Oh god!”
Suddenly a wave of compassion spread over me, twenty and more years of a loveless marriage while her husband fornicated his fill, suddenly mother’s demeanour became plain to me, the frustration of an old maid with no outlet it was at once both clear and sad.
“But enough,” Mother said, “This sodomite nonsense must be set aside.”
“But how mother?” I asked.
“Llareggub fayre, you must ravish that Molly wench there!” Mother said with unwitting poetry.
“I think not!” I said.
“Then you admit you are indeed a Sodomite!” Mother exclaimed.
“No!” I insisted, “But that poor girl!”
“Ha poor girl,” Mother chuckled, “I should have given my eye teeth to have been ravished thus when I was a girl!”
“Mother!” I protested.
“Many’s the time I imagined my faithful ivory hair brush were the prong of some lusty blade as he ravished me, and that my soft bed were the stage before the whole throng of the estate and more who cheered and whooped with my joy as I plunged the handle within me!” she continued wickedly.
“You are deranged mother, desist or I shall have you cast in the lunatic asylum!” I threatened.
“Where I should be ravished daily by inmates and wardens alike,” she reminded me, “You threaten me with paradise Geoffrey.”
“Oh lord,” I said, “Well rant on, what device do you have planned?”
She told me, I groaned but I knew it had to be done.
It was my first turn as presiding Magistrate at Llareggub assizes as with becoming enobled through mother’s side I now out ranked father so with the assizes convened for November it was simple enough to order both the stocks and gallows to be erected together in the Market square to the consternation of the local poachery who had become used to father’s laxitude and who thought a three guineas fine was stiff when hanging or transportation was the proper penalty.
No two gallows were erected, and the stocks and at mother’s urging a low table riddled with bored holes and festooned with leather straps that any may be tied thereon and soundly thrashed was added to the impedimentia.
The hot pie stall and the mulled wine and the punch and judy show and the hurdy gurdy man and the other dozen or so ne’er do wells and loiterers with their stalls were not of my invitation but were welcome to amuse the crowds none the less.
But first there were weighty matters to attend and I repaired to the courthouse that was the old castle keep at the far end of the market place from the church and I was welcomed in as befitted my station to sit at the highest table and having entered everyone stood and remained thus until I sat and only then did they dare to sit.
I felt the great weight of the chain of office around my neck while my richly embroidered if ill fitting robes kept out the November cold.
Vagabonds first the peasantry threw themselves on my mercy, “Have mercy sir!” they cried.
“Poacher sir,” the clerk said, “Caught with a deer sir.”
“Only a little one sir, I was hungry,” the rogue said and his cronies laughed.
“Transported,” I said, “Next.”
“But sir!” the clerk cried, “Your father!” he said as he attempted to lessen the penalty.
“Is an indolent fool,” I added, “No send them hence, in Egypt their hands should be cleaved here we are more lenient.”
“You’re not your father’s son!” the rogue said, “I’ll not forget you!”
“Flog him first fifty lashes,” I added, “Next.”
The next was more subdued, though little good it did him, until his wife piped up and pleaded for leniency, “Pray have mercy sir!” she said her great bosom heaving.
“Madam transporting him far from your side is extreme leniency!” I joked, “Transported, next.”
I left Molly to last, but finally she came before me, “Defamation, you defamed me wench, what have you to say for yourself?”
“You spurned me you sodomite!” she snapped.
“Dear god have you no shame, no sense?” I asked, “No apology no contrition?”
“No!” she said, “You are worse than a dog!”
I stared momentarily lost for words.
“You are the bastard son of the Reverend Hywell Thomas,” she sniggered, “The monk the sodomite!” she added, “You have no right to judge me!”
“My lord!” the clerk said, “Shall I have her whipped?”
“No, not yet,” I cautioned, “Say your fill wench, out with it for you’ll be listened to little enough in the antipodes.”
“Indeed I shall,” she said, “Mama says your father is my father, we are brother and sister, now what say you!” she said, “I am half noble and you have no jurisdiction over me!”
“I am the bastard son of the Reverend Hywell Thomas,” I admitted, “My title devolves through my mother, we are not brother and sister wench, and half noble you may be but save for hanging and transportation I may still punish you for your misdeeds.”
There was a gasp from the assembled throng, “Yes it is true,” I admitted, “But Sodomite I am not!”
I saw they believed not a single word I uttered in my defence.
“One hundred lashes,” I said harshly.
“Only one hundred?” she asked.
“And cast into servitude as a slave,” I added.
“You cannot!” she railed.
“In my own recognisance, not sold, you shall serve me until you repent,” I averred rashly, “Now what say you?”
“I should rather die!” she replied.
“Excellent,” I agreed, “Then if there be no further business let us repair to the red Lion for lunch!”
It was far too soon for lunch, and there were ne’re do wells to thrash with whips and the cat o nine tails, so instead we repaired to the market place where first the serving wench who stole a side of venison was dragged to the platform and with a firm grasp of his fist upon her robe the hangman tore it from neck to hem and beyond and bared her entirely before she was secured to the table by her wrists and ankles , her big pink backsides wobbling and her udders swinging as the hangman stood by with the cat and at the overseer’s mark he flayed her backsides furioisly.
“Do your worst,” Molly snapped as the hangman dragged her past me, her eyes blazing, “Sodomite!” she squealed, “You disgust me!”
She had been stripped already but a cheesecloth smock had been arranged around her, ill fitting and much repaired and stonewashed to a shining white which set off her green eyes and yellowed hair to perfection and again she challenged me, “No answer?” she challenged.
The hangman let her pause before me for my answer, “I showed you kindness and you repay me with lies!” I said quietly, “There is still time to repent, to recant?”
“Never!” she snapped.
I motioned her away and watched as she mounted the stage, standing tall as the hangman bent her over the whipping rail and tied her hands to the posts below while her father and mother looked on distraught unable to comprehend her arrogance.
“Sodomite am I!” I railed as she shouted again, “Well madam I’ll have you recant if I have to have you thrashed to within an inch of your life,”
“Sodomite!” she sneered again, “More woman than man!”
“For heaven’s sake,” I snapped, “Silence!”
“You spurned me, in favour of a man, that I can never forgive!” she challenged.
“And had I taken you?” I asked.
“I should have died first,” she declaimed.
“Well, here you have no option,” I said determinedly.
“Ha!” she laughed,
“You mock me?” I asked.
“You could no more ravish me than fly to the moon.” she averred.
It was the light upon her backside that did it, her womanly charms illuminated by a stray shaft of sunlight among her shapely buttocks, it was more than any man could be compelled to stand and before I knew I was mounting the steps and wresting my breeches open and casting aside my robed I stepped up behind her to claim her to the gasps of the assembled throng.
I thrust at her tight womanliness with reckless abandon until in shocked horror she yielded and my member slid within her warm wetness and was entirely sheathed.
“Sodomite, see!” she wailed.
“That’s not your ass Miss,” the hangman informed her with a laugh, “You’re fucked Miss!”
“Nooooo!” she wailed, “May the lord forgive me!” she pleaded.
“And my forgiveness?” I asked, “For I own your parts are most uncommonly pleasant to enfill.”
“I,” she said, “I,” and waves of pleasure engulfed her as my seed burst forth flooding her parts entirely.
It took a moment to recover and a cheer arose as I slipped from her and rearranged my breeches.
“I forgive you,” I said quietly, “For in truth I do believe your mistake was honest and not malicious.”
“Then may I go sir?” she asked.
“No, I wish you to serve me as my servant,” I averred.
“Whore more like,” a wag insinuated.
“Indeed, as my whore, until with swollen belly your family may reclaim you,” I suggested, “To prove my potency!”
“But sir, I am a good girl!” she insisted.
“And shall make an excellent whore of that I have no doubt,” I added, “Now Hangman release her, do not despoil her soft pinkness with your red weals and stripes.”
I took luncheon, and then did my duties before returning home.
I espied her the moment I walked in. She waited beside the stair, someone had found her a pure white nightdress and she looked down in embarrassment for it was so tight that her charms were clear outlined. And there round her neck a leather collar, the collar of servitude marking her as my slave. I sensed mother’s hand.
“Ah Molly, time to fornicate, I do believe I shall fornicate each evening at this hour before dinner,” I explained.
“If that is your wish sir,” she said meekly.
“It is indeed, quickly now,” I ordered and she followed me to my bed chamber.
This time there was no straps nor whips nor any other impediment, I ripped her nightgown wide at the front and clutched her naked bosoms to my chest.
My member stirred mightily and it was her fingers scrabbling at my breeches, pulling them to my knees and over my boots.
“Take your boots off sir, lay with me as the good lord intended,” Molly whispered.
“What?” I asked.
“Your mother told me,” she said, “Molly she said, you play your cards right and you will be a very happy young lady, she said she were never hardly fucked and wished she had been moreso,”
“Molly,” I said as I threw off my shirt to be naked, “Be quiet, lie back and let me fuck you.”
“Yes, fuck me, fuck your love piss into my hot wet willing womb,” she whispered, “Fill me to excess, for I own I mean to enjoy every single second.”
Her parts were well moistened and my member slipped easily within her cavern and primeval urges made me thrust mightily against her until my mind reeled and there were mountains and lakes and rivers of slime oozing from me to her, and as the slime erupted I sank down upon her spent.
She slipped from the bed and I followed her as she cleaned herself with a towel.
I donned my breeches and went away to the bathroom and latrine returning a few minutes later.
She sat on my bed as I returned, staring at her lower belly where my seed still oozed from her, the leather collar still around her neck. I smiled at her.
“Cook will bring something warm for us,” I explained, “Go bathe.”
She glowered, “Why?” she asked petulantly.
“I might need you later,” I explained, “I do have needs you know.”
“Then find a willing wench,” she insisted.
“Oh but I have,” I reminded her, “Very willing, wanton indeed.”
“I have no choice,” she insisted.
“No, indeed not so bathe, and return, I need you on hand if I have urges in the night,” I insisted.
“And where do I sleep?” she asked insolently.
“Beside me,” I suggested, “The bed is capacious enough for two.”
“Not on the floor like a slave?” she asked.
“No, abed like a whore.” I replied and I saw the faintest of smiles.
It was midnight and gone when I again went to my bed, she awaited me, “I own I shall derive more pleasure from our union than you shalt.” she insisted., and in the darkness in a flurry of passion I sought to prove her wrong.
At length morning came, sunlight streaked the white bedsheets and lit the bloodied crimson trails, I stretched touched her innocently and woke her, “Good morning,” I said, and I went to move and a hundred scratches announced their presence across my back, “My god!” I owned, “I am bleeding!” and I remembered her animal passion from the night scratching at my back as I ploughed her in ecstasy.
She looked alarmed as if I might whip her again, but the memories were far too fond for such thoughts, “I shall have your talons clipped,” I averred, “Whilst I have some blood left.”
“I forgot myself,” she explained, “I made believe you were my lover.”
“I believe I did the same,” I said honestly, “For in all honesty I have never had a lover,”
“Nor I,” she admitted.
“Then we must practice until we reach perfection,” I instructed, and my member sprang to full attention as I lay beside her.
“Yes,” she agreed, “We must practice until perfect,” and she leaned across and kissed my chest, and in a moment my lips were upon hers and she was mine, willingly wantonly, welcomingly mine with no coercion at all.
And when it was done I removed her collar, “You are free to go,” quoth I.
And she took it and put it around her neck anew, “I shall stay and bear you lusty bastard sons,” she insisted.
“Or please me?” I suggested, “And have our union blessed?”
And her lips sought mine, and her fingers sought my member but I am mortal and no more and so she had to remain unsatisfied, for the next hour that is, until recovered entirely we went to heaven again together.