Kathrine from Ecolle St Justine
Introduction:
Ecolle St Justine s a finishing school for whores
“Have you any notion of what serving as a ladies maid involves Katherine?” Miss Edwards asked as Katherine Howard stood before her desk in the headmistress’ study trying to make sense of what she was hearing.
“No Miss Edwards,” she replied.
“That is probably quite fortunate, but with the untimely demise of your parents there is little for you to do but follow your uncle’s instruction.” Miss Edward said, “We shall be sad to lose you, especially so close receiving your diploma, but my instructions are that you shall take up the appointment of ladies maid to Mrs Adele Fortescue forthwith.”
“Aunt Adele?” she queried.
“I’m afraid I know not why Katherine but those are my instructions,” Miss Edwards said sadly, “And so soon after losing your parents.”
“But all my friends are here!” Katherine protested.
“Stiff upper lip Katherine, remember your instruction,” Miss Edwards cautioned, “Remember you are a St Justine’s girl, shoulders back, chin up, always smile through the pain my dear, every circumstance is an opportunity, just remember that which you have learned at Ecolle St Justine and you will never be bested.”
“Yes Miss Edwards,” Katherine said sadly, “May I say goodbye to my friends?”
“Yes, indeed but be quick,” she replied, “You depart this afternoon, Mme Faulken will chaperone you on the trains to Calais where you will find Miss Davis of the railway chaperone service waiting to guide you to Harrogate.
“Miss Edwards, surely I do not need a chaperone if I am to be a Ladies Maid?” Katherine asked.
“No, Ecole St Justine has a duty to ensure your safe passage to England,” Miss Edwards explained, “I do hope you’ll find a suitable husband, perhaps one of Prince Alfred’s sons?”
“Yes Miss Edwards,” she replied.
“Or a soldier, they do make excellent husbands, long campaigns abroad, copious mistresses,” she said, “Especially now they are fighting in southern Africa!”
“Yes Miss Edwards,” Katherine replied.
“And soon enough you’ll be twenty one, and indeed soon enough it will be the twentieth century, with all the celebrations,” Miss Edwards said cheerily.
“Yes Miss Edwards.” Katherine said sadly.
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Mme Faulken handed Katherine over to the even more stern and oppressive Miss Davies at the Gare Maritime Calais and she was swiftly bundled into the first class saloon of the RMS Dover for the short but exceedingly uncomfortable passage to Dover where a train for London awaited, and then a short hackney carriage ride took them to Kings Cross where a train awaited to whisk them through the night to York and on into the depths of Yorkshire.
The magnificent station of Harrogate loomed out if the Yorkshire mist as they concluded their long and tedious journey from Switzerland, the train finally hissed to a halt and she looked for a familiar face. Uncle Eustace, father’s disagreeable brother leered at her from the platform.
“Katherine,” he greeted her, “At last.”
“Uncle?” she said.
“Now come along, I have better things to do than look after stupid young women,” he snapped.
Katherine dutifully followed as Miss Davis arranged a porter for her luggage and bade her farewell.
“I think it best you live with Aunt Adele until you reach your majority,” Eustace informed her, “Act as her maid, learn the ways of the world, find a husband perhaps.”
“Yes Uncle,” she replied.
“We would have you at our house but you are such an unfortunate reminder of my poor brother.” he added.
“Yes Uncle,” she agreed.
“So I just need you to countersign some forms,” he said and then seeing a fellow in a top hat he shouted “Mr Harding if you please.”
Harding walked across at a dignified pace, “Sir,” he said, “How may I be of assistance?”
“My papers you idiot!” Eustace replied.
“My junior has them sir,” Harding replied, as he beckoned to a tall athletic young man busily engaged with flirting with a group of schoolgirls, “Now if you don’t mind I have his grace to attend.”
Katherine smiled at the man, who promptly dropped his papers all over the platform, “I’m sorry,” he said “Paul Harding at your service madam,” and he took her hand and kissed her gently on the wrist.
Katherine giggled nervously, she had little enough experience of flirtatious young men but “Just sign the damned papers!” Eustace demanded and the moment was gone.
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Aunt Adele was a bad tempered woman of barely twenty three years, dark haired and with a heavy bosom and short but none the less shapely legs, not that any but her husband and maids had glimpsed them. She regaled Katherine with a steely stare.
“I think we had better start as we intend to continue,” Adele informed Katherine who at five feet and eight inches tall towered over Adele, “You must call me Madam, not Aunt, and answer to the housekeeper Mrs Robbins.”
“As you wish Madam,” Katherine said straight faced as she planned how she would out wit her Aunt, her husband and indeed her uncle.
“Oh?” Adele exclaimed, “Did Miss Edwards not explain that Mr Eustace Howard that is my dear sister’s husband has inherited your late father’s estates and you are now his ward?”
“Yes indeed Madam.” Katherine lied.
“You seem uncommonly untroubled by your misfortune?” Adele enquired.
“Oh no Madam, I am delighted to be free of Miss Edward’s clutches Madam,” she lied, “Switzerland is so disagreeable, all mountains and snow and lakes and sunshine.”
Adele struggled to maintain her decorum, troubled by Katherine’s response she knew not whether the girl was being flippant or if she spoke honestly.
“Mrs Robbins will find you a smock of some sort and tie your hair back, you may go.” Adele said brusquely as she dismissed Katherine and returned to her book.
Katherine went to find Mrs Robbins, “Oh it’s you,” she said, “I suppose I had better find you a smock, you can hardly wear your gowns and serve her Ladyship, nor those high heels!”
“I cannot wear high heels Mrs Robbins,” Katherine admitted, “For my legs are excessively long, I am forced to wear servants pumps Madam.”
“You can’t call ma Madam girl,”Mrs Robbins chided, “I’m Mrs Robbins and proud of it, though truth to tell I’ve never been wed but, we call her ‘Her Ladyship’ as she is so high and mighty and bad tempered with it.”
“Yes Mrs Robbins,” Katherine agreed, “What are my duties?”
“Well to serve Mrs Harthope, of course, have you not been told?” she asked.
“No, I have been schooled in Switzerland do you see.” Katherine answered, “Father thought I might marry a nobleman.”
“With hair like yours and tall and everything you might well girl, you fight the wood cutter off though or it will be the workhouse for you kids and all.” Mrs Robbins agreed.
“Wood cutter?” Katherine asked as Mrs Robbins started to rummage around in her store cupboard seeking a smock.
“Foreigner, don’t know hardly any English, don’t understand ‘no’ where wenches is concerned any road.” Mrs Robbins chuckled, as she found several garments and bundled them up for Katherine.
Mrs Robbins showed Katherine to her room, high up on the top floor of the old manor house at the top of the back stairs, “It won’t be what you’re used to,” she said, “No feather mattresses here.”
Katherine stared, it was a small room, but with only one bed with a pleasant enough cover and an eider down and while certainly not feather soft was pleasantly compliant.
“Oh, it’s quite charming!” Katherine agreed as she looked at the view across the moors and valley towards the village.
Mrs Robbins thought Katherine was being flippant but she knew nothing of the solid wooden beds on which the young ladies slept at Ecole St Justine in the interests of ‘Posture.’
“You better put a smock on and come downstairs.” Mrs Robbins suggested.
Katherine took the smock Mrs Robbins proffered, it felt coarse, not unlike the school smocks they habitually wore at St Justine except somewhat longer, extending below the knee.
“I’ll call you for servant’s tea,” Mrs Robbins promised, “Get settled in, the lock don’t work but the bolt do,” she explained and she closed the door behind her.
Katherine slipped the heavy bolt across and thankfully stripped off her travelling attire, the long flowing blue dress, the painfully tightly laced corset and the voluminous silk bloomers and petticoats, and took up the smock, it felt deliciously coarse against her nipples but seeing her cases had already been placed in the room she lost no time in seeking out her set of ivory “Tusks” that Miss Edwards insisted all her girls use regularly and she lay on the bed and pleasured herself for a few moments.
She peered at her collection all beautifully carved to resemble the members of statues of ancient Greece or Rome so it was said though the largest resembled more that of a donkey than a Greek god and then the smaller ones which Miss Edwards had insisted the girls use upon their bottoms as they entered their final terms.
She had become proficient in their use, indeed she could accept the number seven with but the least discomfort while the number eight she could accept but with such pleasure that she could not but cry out in ecstasy, and yet the number two in the bottom and at once the number six inserted entirely within her was her favourite.
She remembered her lessons well as she stifled the cries her passion would usually have produced and she lay back on the soft bed and enjoyed the moment.
“It’s Tea time,” Mrs Robbins announced as she knocked the door, “I say Tea time,” she repeated.
“Oh, yes, thank you,” Katherine exclaimed, “I’ll just be a moment,” she added as she quickly removed the carved white phalli and wiped them before returning them to their box felt lined box.
“I bet you never thought you’d be eating we us,” Mr Harding the Butler asked Katherine, “You we all your hairs and graces!”
“Oh perhaps not but we dine very well I must say,” Katherine observed as she stared at a table loaded with succulent ham and bread far more tender and fresh than anything she had seen in Switzerland.
“I reckon yon woodcutter will take thee down a peg or two when he gets his prong up you!” Mrs Robbins chortled, “He don’t know what ‘No’ means.
Katherine smiled at the woodcutter across the table, “Ja!” he said and smiled.
“Nein,” she replied and wagged a finger at him, “I did learn self defence at St Justine,” she explained, “And a smattering of German and French.”
Quite suddenly a bell rang, Katherine looked up at the long row of bells attached to a wooden frame high on the wall, each connected by wires to the rooms of the house for summoning servants to “Oh that’s ‘Her Ladyship,’ Mrs Robbins exclaimed, “Her sitting room beside her bedroom, Katherine see what she requires.”
Katherine left her food and hurried to where she thought her Aunt might be, she took several wrong turnings and arrived breathless at her Aunt’s room, “You rang Madam?” she asked.
“Indeed, my husband has returned unexpectedly,” she informed Katherine, “He is sure to require carnality.”
“Madam?” Katherine enquired, “I’m not sure I need to know this?”
“Oh yes you do,” Adele snapped, “I shall not partake in such a distasteful matter, no girl you must serve in my place!”
“Fornicate with your husband Madam?” Katherine exclaimed.
“Indeed!” Adele agreed.
“I shall consider it a great honour.” Katherine lied.
“What!” Adele countered.
“He is a most beautiful gentleman, kind, well mannered,” she said and Adele struggled to reconcile the brute who abused her at every admittedly rare opportunity with Katherine’s version, “It is a great kindness that you offer me, I shall bear his child with pride.”
“Child?” Adele queried, “Have you lain with him already?”
“Oh no madam, but one cannot use a skin for a gentleman,” Katherine explained, “Oh no madam gentlemen need to let their issue flow freely.”
“Indeed?” Adele said quizzically, “Indeed, fetch hot water then Katherine for I believe the indignity is about to befall us.”
The few moments it took Katherine to fetch the water jug were all it took for Gerald, Adele’s husband to wash away the grime of his journey and to join Adele in her sitting room.
“Ah Katherine,” Gerald cried, “Adele has suggested you do me a great kindness.”
“My pleasure my lord,” Katherine replied.
“Oh,” he exclaimed nonplussed, “Has she explained the nature of this?”
“Oh indeed sir, yes sir, why I practised the same with Hans the woodcutter this very moment!” she lied.
“Stupid girl!” Adele carped, “You had not time!”
“It was necessarily brief,” Katherine agreed, “But pleasant enough and he said I was the pleasantest girl he had fornicated this whole week and he had twenty seven so far.”
“Katherine!” Adele cried.
“One minute or three strokes,” Katherine bemoaned, “Seldom to my lovers exceed three strokes.”
“Katherine!” Gerald expounded, he stared at her, at thirty two he was in his prime, and indeed rampant, yet afraid, he thought Katherine would be a pure innocent virgin and yet it seemed she was a rampant and probably diseased whore.
“Shall you see me?” Katherine asked sweetly, “Of course you shall,” she added and grasping the hem of her smock she raised it to her chin revealing that apart from her long socks she was entirely bare beneath.
Gerald gasped and grunted, quiet suddenly a wet patch spread across his white breeches and he sat down unsteadily.
“Sadly my udders are as yet unformed,” Katherine explained, “Barely a handfull each unlike my mistress, I do wish I had full udders like my mistress.”
“Indeed,” Gerald agreed, “The udders are what attracted Adele to me.”
“My dowry more like.” Adele snapped.
“Well it wasn’t your sparkling personality was it?” Gerald snapped, “Or your great desire to fornicate.”
“Gerald!” Adele carped.
“Shall we fornicate here, or abed?” Katherine asked as she slipped her smock off completely.
“You do seem very fragile,” Gerald exclaimed as he lowered his breeches and dabbed at his now flaccid member seeking to mop up the spent seed, “Altogether too bony for a pleasant ride.”
“Indeed sir, I shall eat like a pig that I might attain a girth like my mistress,” Katherine assured him, “Though how I might shrink my cavern I know not, why my mistress easily pushed her whole fist within me earlier.”
“No,” Adele cried.
“When you sought a safe hiding place for the key to your chastity belt.” Katherine lied.
“Wicked girl, it’s here,” Adele said and grabbed a tiny key, “See!”
“You had it all the time?” Gerald raged, “You said it was lost!”
“That is not it!” Katherine insisted as she snatched it from Adele and pushing her back in her chair Katherine lifted Adeles skirts and copious petticoats and when her chastity belt was revealed she tried the key.
“Oh I am mistaken,” she said as the wide leather belt fell away revealing Adele’s tight and hairless womb entry.
“Bitch!” Gerald screamed, “Now submit,”
“No,” Adele said but Katherine’s busy hands were at the fastenings of Adele’s gown and underthings and slowly but gloriously the formed a heap upon the floor until Adele was bared.
“I do wish I had udders like these,” Katherine said as she bent her head to Adele’s left nipple and commenced to suck.
“No!” Adele squealed.
“No indeed!” Gerald protested, “Let her alone Katherine and on the bed.”
“Thank you sir!” Katherine said.
“Not you, her, get Adele abed instantly for I have needs!” he exclaimed.
“But I have needs unsated by the servants sir” Katherine protested.
“And the pox, I’ll wager, no abed Adele, now!” he railed as he discarded all his clothes bar his socks and undershirt.
“Madam?” Katherine suggested.
“No, he must ravish you, you are my servant.” Adele protested but to no avail as he clothes were strewn around the sitting room and her sweet slot shaved as by necessity it must be for hygiene with a Chastity belt pouted expectantly as Katherine pushed her to the bed chamber.
“No,” she protested but Katherine pushed Adele onto the bed and then as Gerald covered her so Katherine took his straining manhood and guided it as one might a stallion mounting his mare until with the tip fully engaged within her Gerald was able to thrust it full home as Adele cried out.
“Nooo!” Adele protested.
“Hush,” Katherine whispered, “Do you not remember what you were taught?”
“What do you mean?” Adele asked breathlessly as Gerald pounded into her with tremendous vigour, “Taught?”
“To please your husband!” Katherine pointed out.
“Nooo,” Adele cried, “Gerald please are you not sated?”
“Then cry out in delight as you were taught,” Katherine suggested, “Hasten his emission.”
“Ohhh, are you quite mad?” Adele charged, “Oh Gerald you are tearing me in half, ” Adele cried.
“So relax,” Katherine suggested, “Relax and enjoy as you were taught.”
“You really, oh, ah, are mad!” Adele exclaimed,”Completely mad!”
“Oh very well,” Katherine exclaimed, “If you can’t enjoy your husband, then I shall help.” and she took a candle from the candelabra and placed the end against Gerald’s anus and pushed.
“Ohhh,” Gerald gasped as he started to cum.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Ada exclaimed as Gerald began to pump his jism inside her.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Katherine explained as she picked up her smock slipped it on and went to slip from the bedroom.
“She will have to go,” Gerald intoned as they lay still after intercourse, “She is a whore.”
“She says such peculiar things,” Adele explained, “She expects me to enjoy your attentions.”
“Oh, and do you not?” he asked.
“No it pains me,” Adele protested.
“Then you should practice more, have you no ivories?” Katherine asked as she returned.
“I thought you went?” Adele explained.
“I heard enough,” Katherine replied, “You should ease yourself Madam, that your husband might enjoy you properly.”
“Go to your room!” Gerald exclaimed, “Whore!”
“I am not a whore!” Katherine retorted, “But you are barely a man, if you can serve your wife but once a night!”
“I can serve as often as I please,” he insisted.
“Indeed?” Katherine asked.
“Indeed, now go!” he insisted.
Katherine smiled and slipped away, “I should have thought three times,” she added as she closed the door.
“What on earth was Eustace thinking of foisting such a whore upon us,” Gerald enquired, “Thee times, although I do believe that was the most agreeable fornication we have performed.”
“And what nature of school has she attended?” Adele asked.
“Though she has her qualities,” Gerald admitted, “I own I do like you bared.”
“Getald!” Adele protested.
“You inflame me.” he admitted.
“Gerald,” Ada protested and then she shouted “Katherine, in here now!”
Katherine heard the shout and hurried back, “Yes Madam,” she replied as soon as she was back in the bedroom.
“You have inflamed my husband,” she explained, “So lie with him.”
“Oh thank you Madam,” Katherine replied, “Though why should I be required when you are so much more voluptuous?”
“Ah,” Gerald replied awkwardly.
“Surely Madam should be favoured,” Katherine replied, “She is after all your wife.”
“Now see here girl, you lie with my husband and let that be an end to it!” Adele insisted.
“Oh, that is so kind, and if I bear his child I shall call it Jorg which is Swiss for Gerald!” Katherine explained.
“Child, ah child,” he spluttered.
“Maybe you would rather Madam had your child?” Katherine suggested as she reached over and pressed her tiny hand against Adele’s still moist vagina, “Can you not see the wonder of his head emerging.” she said as she worked first two then three than four fingers within Adele lubricated as she was by Gerald’s creamy emissions.
“Oh,” Adele cried, “Desist!” but as Katherine’s left hand slid within Adele so her right played with the tiny pleasure nub which at once had appeared all red and wanton in the folds of flesh above the vaginal cleft, “Desist I say!” but Katherine was pounding the insides of Adele’s womb, stretching and easing in all directions, spreading her hand even.
“Desist!” Adele cried but with no sincerity as her heart was pounding and her senses screamed with unaccustomed pleasure.
“My eye what have you done!” Gerald exclaimed.
“Mme Hulbert taught us thus,” Katherine explained, “Tis for bridesmaids to ready the bride for her husband if he is elderly, not the inside, but the nub, see how she swoons if we stroke the nub and cries if it is squeezed, for it is directly the path to her heart.”
“May I?” Gerald asked and he touched Katherines hand to move it away and suddenly a spark leapt between them, moistness seeped from Katherine’s womb as hardness grew in Gerald’s appendage and for a moment it seemed that Katherine would lie down for him but Adele cried out.
“No you cannot stop, please!” Adele wailed.
“Tis your cue sir,” Katherine suggested, “Prong her and prong her soundly as if it were me you were pronging.”
“Yes,” Getald agreed as he rolled around to take his rightful place over his wife, his hands at her cheeks, his weight upon his elbows and Katherine’s dainty fingers inserting his prong in Adele’s sopping vagina.
He peered into Adele’s dark frightened eyes and froze a second but Katherine saw it, “Pretend it is my womb,” she said as she rounded the bed and lifted Gerald’s chin that she might kiss his lips.
“No,” Adele cried but it was too late as Gerald kissed Katherine even as he thrust his member mightily into Adele’s freshly loosened womb.
“Noooo,” Adele cntinued until Katherine grasped the spare pillow and thrust it firmly against Adele’s face and mouth sliencing her whilst at the same time Katherine enraged Gerald’s ardour by her tongue in his mouth.
A rushing gushing torrent of seed seared Adele’s womb as Gerald succumbed to Katherine’s charms and let fly his passion.
“I love you!” Gerald husked breathlessly as their embrace melted away.
“No, you don’t” Katherine countered but she knew he told the truth and it troubled her.
“I hate you!” Adele countered.
“Do you?” Gerald retorted, “Well I must say I prefer your hate to your love if it lets me ride you so pleasantly.”
“You are well suited, both evil,” Adele added.
“Miss Edwards cautioned that some husbands tie their wives to the bed frame that they may have as much carnality as they may,” Katherine explained, “But that would not be for you.”
“Why?” Gerald enquired.
“There are no string holes in the bed frame,” Katherine pointed out.
“Then get the carpenter, I expect a full complement by the morrow evening.” Gerald replied.
“No, get thee hence both of you!” she snapped.
Katherine went to her room and carefully bolted the door and pushed her chair against it as she fully expected Gerald to follow her, but no one came.
She slipped of her smock and taking her box of ivories she sadly commenced the exercises Miss Edwards had taught her, first smearing the small number two ivory phallus with grease before she eased it within her bottom and sat upon it before she greased the number seven monster and eased it within her womb, she felt immense loneliness, why not a week before her friend Monique had shared the exercises with her, she inserted Monique’s ivory phallus and thrust it within her until she cried “Enough,” and then Monique had in turn inserted Katherine’s phallus within and sent her to the land of soft marshmallow mountains that were at once clouds and again peacocks.
Relief came quickly, the warm rush across her mind with the Crocodile made of sweetmeat with sugar fangs into which she bit as she stifled her own screams of pleasure as the phalli squeezed together within her and barely able to remove the ivories and wipe them clean she crawled abed and slept.
“It’s morning!” Mrs Robbins shouted as Katherine lay abed thinking about Gerald.
He loved her, he was married, she didn’t love him in the least, she pondered the permutations and was relieved to be called.
She attended Adele but Adele refused to see her, Gerald demanded she attend him and she at first refused but then attended as he bid.
“Ah Katherine, at last pray join me,” he suggested and thew wide the bed covers revealing his nakedness.
“Oh no sir, I cannot.” she demurred.
“Bed wench!” he cried and grabbed her by the waist, she ducked as Miss Farr had taught her and as Gerald fell she swiftly kicked him violently between his legs, he crashed to the floor screaming.
Katherine went to run from the room but Adele burst in, “You evil girl!” she cried.
“I’m not evil, you are, you cold hearted bitch,” Katherine snapped surprising even herself with her anger, “Why can’t you satisfy your husband as you were taught at school?”
“Taught, at school?” Adele queried, “At school?”
“You went to finishing school did you not?” Katherine asked, “Not that you practice that which you were taught.”
Gerald sat up nursing his manhood which had swollen appreciably.
“And what was that?” he asked.
“She wears voluminous underclothes instead of being ready to accept your member at a moments notice.” Katherine expounded.
“Indeed, indeed she fights off every advance,” Gerald admitted.
“It is unseemly to submit too easily,” Adele muttered.
“Not when you are married,” Katherine pointed out, “You barely submit at all, why I’m surprised your womb has not healed up thinking itself but a flesh wound,” she railed, “Now shall you serve your husbands swelling?” she asked.
“No, it is unseemly,” Adele insisted.
“But it is your duty!” Katherine insisted, “Now disrobe and on the bed!”
Adele demurred but Gerald was intrigued, “Yes, ’tis your duty,” he said, “And you had few complaints the night,” he added, “Bare yourself, and dress lightly thereafter.”
“No, I shall not!” Adele protested but to no avail as Gerald caught hold of his wife and held her as Katherine began to undo the fastenings and to peel away Adele’s garments one by one until she was entirely disrobed.
“What a fuss!” Katherine chided as Adele protested loudly until finally bared they were able to swing her to the centre of Gerald’s bed, a fine black iron framed model of the latest kind, “No still I say or I shall bind you,” Katherine insisted as she spied Adele’s discarded stockings.
Adele fought against Gerald but only briefly as Katherine looked silken stockings around Adele’s feet as Mme Faulken had shown her at St Justine’s and pulled them tight to he bed frame with slip knots, both ankles spread to the bed sides so Adele’s legs were spread widely, her hands still flailed but from Gerald’s sideboard clean knee socks sufficed to secure Adele’s hands likewise to the bed frame, and then and only then in helplessness did Gerald seek to mount her.
“No!” Adele cried, “It is unseemly,” but Gerald persisted though his appendage slipped twice from her slot so firmly did she resist and only when Katherine grasped Gerald’s shaft firmly as he thrust in did she yield and allow his entry.
“Now that is how the day should start,” he averred as he began to plough her and then on an impulse he bent to kiss her, she turned away but in an instant was Katherine upon her and held her cheeks so Gerald was afforded Adele’s lips whereupon he sealed his mouth upon hers stifling her cries, and lowering his chest to rest gently upon her breasts.
The wetness of the slapping from Adele’s parts increased apace as her teats stretched ever longer, she began to gasp and beads of sweat broke on her brow until finally she could deny it no longer and she thrust against her husband as she craved more and yet more of his member within her until in glorious relief he flooded her pats with his seed and lay still.
“Oh my, I am sated indeed.” Gerald confessed.
“But what about poor Adele,” Katherine observed, “For she is far from content, shall I call a footman to finish what my lord has started?”
“No, one moment, let me rest,” he pleaded, and as he pulled away from Adele so Katherine grabbed a sponge from the chest of drawers top and dipped it in the water bowl and began decorously to wipe the surplus spilled seed from Adele’s parts just as she had been taught, and then she offered a cloth to Gerald to wipe his member which had by effect that of raising it once more.
“I think it is time sir,” Katherine intoned and Gerald resumed his place between Adele’s legs and began to thrust mightily as Adele giggled like a school girl and occasionally squealed.
Katherine wished for a book or her sewing, or better still her ivories but in their absence she made do with a candle from the candelabra which as she sat on the very edge of her chair watching Adele so she decorously thrust the candle inside her own womb in time to Gerald’s thrusts.
It was too late for break-fast when the fornicants separated, fortunately Katherine had slipped away to the kitchen and forewarned the food had been set aside and kept warm that which could be kept warm and held back the eggs until the Master had finished.
“I never knowed nothing like it,” Mrs Robbins declared, “I thought he would be up you Katherine if you’ll beg my pardon.”
“Ah, yes,” Katherine exclaimed, “But Madam Adele seems to be so ignorant of the master’s needs, was she not schooled?”
“Oh the finest school, at Windsor,” Mrs Robbins declared, “She is most accomplished in the Pianoforte, and Latin and.”
“But the boudoir, was she not schooled in matters of the boudoir?” Katherine demanded.
“I know not what a boudoir is but if you mean the bed room then I fear she knows naught,” Mrs Robbins declared, “Though she fends him off easily enough most days, I thought they got you in as a stand in for her.”
“Yes, I do wonder,” Katherine replied.
“We got some Gentlemen come Miss,” Mrs Robbins said quite respectfully considering Katherine’s lowly position, “One’s in the dining room will you entertain him till the master is ready to receive him?”
“Indeed,” Katherine agreed, “Yes, who is it?”
“The Mr Hardings,” Mrs Robbins suggested, “The lawyers, the old one went on but the son is waiting, will you see to him please?”
Katherine went through to the dining room, where Paul, the younger Harding was sitting eating boiled ham with soft boiled eggs, her heart skipped a beat as she saw him, “Oh it’s you?” he queried between chews, “I thought?”
“I am the Harthope’s ladies maid now Mr Harding.” Katherine explained and she suddenly felt dowdy in her smock, she wished for an expensive gown, or perhaps as Mme Faulken once suggested ‘when all else fails bare yourself,’ “What may I do for you?” she asked and she stared at him squarely, admiring his stature, his broad shoulders his light hair and ready smile, the twinkle in his eyes and the strangely quizzical way he looked at her.
“You attended St Justine’s school?” Harding enquired.
“Why yes, Ecole St Justine,” she replied.
“Did you enjoy it there?” he asked.
“I learned a great deal,” she said, “But no, I cannot say that I did, enjoy it that is.”
“You are happy here?” he asked.
“Indeed, I put my schooling to good use by assisting Aunt Adele to fornicate,” Katherine explained.
“Fornicate!” Paul Harding spluttered helplessly spraying egg in all directions.
“Yes sadly the Windsor school taught poor Adele nothing.” Katherine explained.
“And St Justine?” he asked, gasping.
“Oh indeed I am well versed sir,” Katherine assured him, “You can rely upon it that I shall provide my husband the utmost satisfaction.”
“You’re naught but a whore!” Harding snapped.
Katherine railed, “Why be so horrible to me?” she demanded, “What have I done to deserve such?”
“You’ve been to a whore’s academy you stupid girl,” he snapped, “They taught you to fornicate!”
“Of course, how else would I learn?” Katherine asked, “Surely all academies teach such things?”
“And how many gentlemen have sampled you?” he asked.
“Mr Harding how dare you, why none!” she railed.
“Servants, then, paid fornicants, call them what you will how many men?” Harding demanded.
“None!” she cried distressed now.
“Liar!” he snapped.
“Why should I lie?” she demanded.
“Your uncle says you are a whore and should be cast into the street.” Harding said firmly.
“But I am pure!” she protested.
“Then prove it, show me!” he demanded.
“How shall I prove it?” she asked, and she raised her smock to show her womb, “Can you not see?”
“You just did, no decent woman would bare herself in that way.” he said.
“But, you demanded proof?” she said in confusion.
“I have the papers here, you uncle says you should be cast out in the street,” he said.
“But why?” she asked, “Have I not given satisfaction?”
“Clearly,” he agreed, “To myriad members by the look of it.”
“You really are despicable Mr Paul Harding,” Katherine protested as she let her smock fall back.
“And you are a whore madam, your womb is all puffed, it is obvious,” he explained, “Though for a whore you are a very handsome one.”
“Really,” Katherine queried, “And as a woman am I ugly?”
“No, handsome,” he replied.
“Paul, you are upsetting the girl,” a deep voice boomed, Katherine stared at the kindly old gentleman who had just joined them..
“Sorry father,” Paul apologised.
“Now what my son was supposed to ascertain was the nature of your education,” he asked, “You have been taught the art of love?”
“Fornication, yes.” Katherine agreed, “I have my set of ivory phalli and can take a number seven in my womb but only a two in my bottom.”
“Ohhh,” Paul groaned.
“Sadly my son is ignorant of the private habits of young women,” the older man explained, “I fear he has expended his seed in his breeches.”
“Father!” Paul protested.
“Oh, well, allow me I shall fetch a cloth,” Katherine offered as she rushed away.
“She’s a whore father!” Paul insisted.
“No, she’s been trained as a whore you fool,” the older man insisted, “But why, that is the conundrum, why did George Howard send his only daughter to a school dedicated to the training of whores, mistress’s and concubines?”
“She is a whore!” Paul insisted.
“Then offer her money to bed her,” the older man ordered, “That will settle it.”
They had no time to wait as Katherine had returned and she went to Paul’s breeches whereby she unbuttoned them to extract his member quite innocently without shame and then to wipe away the creamy seed he had expelled.
It stiffened instantly, his member, “He wants you, how much to bed you?” Paul asked.
“No!” Katherine squealed and slapped him just as Mr Gerald walked in.
“What in gods name?” he demanded.
“She is a whore sir!” Paul stated.
“I can see that!” Gerald agreed, “I must apologise, I shall cast her out forthwith.”
“But I am innocent!” she protested.
“She takes a number seven Ivory phallus,” Paul explained.
“She certainly taught Adele a great deal about fornication,” Gerald agreed, “She must be a whore.”
“No!” Katherine protested.
“Shall you cast her out sir,” the older man asked, “For we are travelling to Martelsham and would be delighted to drop her at Mme Le Bank’s establishment.”
“Yes, indeed get your traps, you are no longer welcome here.” Gerald insisted.
“It is so unfair!” Katherine protested as she quietly went away.
“Better sign something,” the older Harding suggested, “This will do,” he said, “It’s a marriage consent form but it will suffice.”
Gerald simply signed his name, Harding showed no emotion, Paul looked nervous, and after some further awkwardness Katherine appeared dragging her trunk.
“Oh you won’t need finery where you’re going, just a few smocks and your ivories,” Harding insisted, but still he ordered Paul to help carry the trunk to their carriage whereupon they climbed aboard drove away instantly.
“Why in god’s name would George send her to whore’s school?” the older Harding asked, “I’m Raphallion Harding, you may call me father.”
“Why, shall you prong me?” she asked.
“No, of course not,” he insisted, “No love is for you young people.”
“Father!” Paul protested.
“So why did your father send you to whore’s school, did he hate you?” Raphallion asked.
“He was my father, I don’t know.” she said quietly.
“There is more to this than I see,” he insisted and “Home James,” he ordered and the coachman whipped the horses to action.
“What about Mme Le Banks establishment,” Paul enquired.
“Ha, she will serve better in your bed my son,” he stated firmly, “Now no more nonsense.”
“But she may be diseased!” Paul exclaimed.
Katherine slapped Paul’s face, “There’s your answer,” Raphallion exclaimed “There.”
“Father?” Paul asked in confusion.
“She’s not diseased, she is naive,” Raphallion announced, “But possessed of a formidable character, and hansom, if I were fifty years younger I’d wed her myself.”
“You would be Ten father,” Paul observed, “Don’t exaggerate.”
The Harding household was modest by some standards but stood on the edge of Martlesham in it’s own grounds, Mrs Beckett the housekeeper cast a disapproving eye over Katherine,”What’s this a maid or a whore?” she snarled.
“Paul’s intended,” Raphallion announced gleefully, to frowns from Paul and Katherine, “Set the guest room for her if you please, the upstairs next to Paul’s.”
“I shall allow you some time to become acquainted,” Raphallion avowed and he went straight to his study.
Something troubled him greatly, why should anyone send their daughter to a whore’s academy? he puzzled.
He had acted for the estate of Katherine’s late parents, George and Floretta Howard and was still working on the detail of the transfer of title to Eustace as the male heir, and as any good lawyer does, had set them aside for a month to appear that the work was onerous whereas it was merely the application of the waxen seal to a single sheet that was required
He had brought the files containing Floretta’s private papers home as any conscientious lawyer does in case there is some impropriety and instinctively sought them out, letters bundled in order and he went back twenty two years and started to read.
“I fear George has the better prospects,” he saw Eustace had written, “I fear we cannot continue my sweet Floretta.”
“We shall forever remain friends,” Eustace finished the final letter of his series.
Eustace and Floretta? Raphallion mused, and Katherine born barely seven months after the wedding. It came to him, George believed Katherine was Eustace’s daughter, so he set her to be a whore like her mother.
“I fear George has the sailors disease,” Dr Myers had written, “Desist from intercourse if you may but in the event that it be impossible to desist wet the region copiously with vinegar to fend off the infection.”
Raphallion stared, the answers there upon the page, a love affair, the younger brother elbowed aside by the older more affluent, the younger seeking revenge on a girl already suffering from her own father’s revenge.
He pored over the papers, it was male line of descent he observed as he read and then burned the documents, but he had an affection for the girl, and with his unblemished record for truthfulness over forty years a lawyer he could easily twist the truth like a corkscrew without danger of discovery.
Katherine was glowering at Paul across the drawing room, when Raphallion walked in “She won’t dress father, she wishes to be a maid not a whore!”
“Then show her you are a man, bare her and take your pleasure,” Raphallion demanded.
“No father, I shall not,” he insisted.
Raphallion sighed, “Then sign these while I ravish her.”
“Father you heart will expire,” Paul insisted.
“Not if she is kind to me,” he countered.
“No, I forbid it!” Paul railed.
“Then you take responsibility for her, not I,” Raphallion insisted, “Damn it I have the paper here now sign!” Paul glowered but he took his new fangled fountain pen and signed the dotted line, “And you,” he demanded of Katherine who dutifully signed her form.
“How often have I told you, Never Never Never sign anything without reading it,” Raphallion chortled, Paul grabbed the sheet.
“It’s a signed proposal of marriage!” he gasped.
Katherine stared, “Mine is an acceptance.”
“Then that is clearly legally binding.” Raphallion chortled.
“Father, why should I marry a whore!” Paul demanded, Katherine slapped his face.
“I am not a whore!” she protested.
“See, she has spirit, that is what you want in a wife, that and a fortune,” Raphallion insisted, “Do you want a fortune Paul?”
“Father?” he asked.
“And you Katherine do you want your father’s estate,” Raphallion asked, “Or should you prefer your uncle to have it, the uncle who dragged you from your friends and made you a servant in his brother in law’s house?”
“I don’t understand?” she said.
“I am executor,” Raphallion explained, “It is said the Howard fortune descends solely through the male line but do you know there is nothing written to confirm this, well almost nothing, nothing that will not easily burn.”
“But?” Katherine asked, “Why?”
“I wish my son to marry well,” he said, “Nothing more, but I need to see commitment, commitment from you.”
“You wish us to marry?” Paul asked.
“You make it sound onerous,” he said, “Do you not relish the prospect of marriage with such a beautiful and spirited girl?”
“But why!” Katherine demanded.
“Indeed, why should we take heed of your instruction?” Paul demanded, “Marriage should be about love!”
“Indeed,” Katherine agreed, “It is presumtuous!” and she stood and strode from the room, Paul followed.
“Look, you do understand don’t you?” he asked, “But I cannot marry a whore.”
“For gods sake I am not a whore,” she snapped, “I have never lain with a man, do you understand.”
“No, I don’t believe you,” Paul insisted.
“Why not?” Katherine demanded.
“I simply cannot,” he repeated, “But, I suppose there is considerable merit in our union.”
“Really,” she snapped, “So it is to be a sham is it, no love, no passion, no fornication, beyond consummation.”
“Indeed, if necessary,” he agreed.
“Then so be it, you convey my father’s estate to me and I shall marry you, and once consummated that shall be an end,” Katherine insisted, “And you may fornicate with whom you please.”
“I shall refrain,” Paul insisted, “The flesh holds no allure for me.”
“You’re a sodomite!” Katherine exclaimed, “That is it, you are a,”
“No!” Paul cried, “Absolutely not!”
“I don’t believe you!” Katherine chortled.
“It’s the truth I say!” he insisted.
“Prove it!” she demanded.
“How can I,” he replied, “I can no more prove it than you can prove you are pure.”
“And of course you are entirely wrong,” Katherine pointed out, “You can very easily prove you are not a sodomite.”
“Oh, yes, I see,” he agreed, “Ah.”
“And we do have to consummate our union?” she said, “So shall you prove it?”
He stared, “How,” he asked hopelessly.
“You could take me to bed!” Katherine replied.
“See you are a whore!” he declared.
“So pay me,” she suggested, “Ten guineas!”
They stood in the corridor at the bottom of the back stairs, and on an impulse Katherine quickly slipped her smock over her head and stood before Paul bared, “Do you like what you see?” he enquired.
“No!” he cried but she threw down her smock and she was at the buttons of his breeches and quickly she released his member from it’s lair, it stiffened instantly so though he tried he could not draw his breeches back over it.
“Damn you!” he cried, but Katherine had his waistcoat undone and his shirt half way off as he still struggled to fasten his breeches.
“Stop struggling!” she insisted.
“No!” he protested but by now his shirt was off and his undershirt nearly over his head and as he tried to retrieve it Katherine pulled hos breeches to his ankles and grasped his member, “aaahhhgghh,” he protested as she twisted it.
“Then do something useful with it!” she snapped.
“You really are evil,” Paul snapped, “Very well, lets go to my room,” he insisted, and he tried to pull his breeches up.
“No time,” Katherine insisted, “Lead on.”
He pulled his breeches by the waist and strode up the stairs as Katherine followed.
“You will be gentle won’t you?” she asked as she stepped into his simply furnished room with a a new style iron framed sprung single bed against one wall.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he snapped and as she nervously sat on the bed so pushed her firmly back and forced her knees apart, before he tossed his breeches aside to kneel between her legs and aim his appendage directly at her womb.
“Careful!” she asked, but he was aroused and intent and he aimed and thrust mightily only for his appendage to slip away and spear the mattress.
“Awwww,” he protested.
“You idiot,” Katherine snapped, “Let me!” and she guided him within her.
“Look!” he said but he could not resist as she yielded easily for him and he sank deeper and deeper within her.
“It’s warm,” she commented, “I never realised, and pliable,”
“Yes, satisfied?” he said, but he showed no sign of ceasing his movements against her.
“It is not,” she said, “As exciting as I expected.”
“Really, am I deficient?” he asked.
“I really do not know,” she admitted, “I simply do not know.”
“Really?” he commented but he was now intent on his own pleasure, “Well, ugh, you see,” he thrust against her.
“Yes,” she whispered, “Harder!” and she pulled him tighter into her until his excitement overflowed and with a pulsing quivering moment he exploded his sperm inside her.
“It is over.” Paul said quietly as he continued to hold her.
“Yes,” she agreed, “I am supposed to wash and prepare myself in case you need me again.”
“Indeed,” he said, “Well rest assured I won’t need you again.”
“Then I shall remain,” she declared, “Kiss me!”
“No, you kiss me,” he insisted, “You are the whore.”
“Yes, I think I shall enjoy being a whore,” Katherine agreed, “I see no reason to marry you what so ever when I may enjoy the companionship of a whole horde of men and be satisfied indeed.”
“No we had an arrangement!” Paul protested.
“Ten guineas,” Katherine insisted, “You owe me.”
“You bitch!” he protested but his shrunken manhood so recently slipped from her was swelling again, “I hate you,” she grasped the swollen member and aimed it at her womb once more.
“I hate you too,” she announced as she pulled his head down so their lips met and helplessly they let the nature of love overwhelm them as he gently rocked against her.
“You’re evil,” he whispered, “Entirely evil,” as she wrapped her legs around him to draw him ever closer, and all too soon his sticky fluids were pulsing into her once more.
They lay still a moment, “I thought you were trained to wash and prepare for love once again at this juncture?” Paul asked.
“Oh, yes,” she agreed, “But surely you are spent?”
“You are addictive,” he admitted, “And the night is long.”
To be continued?
