Annabel.

In 1879 in a county house north of London I meet my nemesis.

The manicured lawns of Lord Marchington’s mansion stretched away into the middle distance. The lake shimmered in the afternoon light. Lord Marchington’s daughter Annabel stood on the terrace below me staring out across the grounds as a young gardener or groundsman tended to the lawn edges.

“A fine view Miss Gresham,” I called for the family name was Gresham not Marchington.

“Oh, Mr Thompsett, I did not see you,” she replied as she turned and looked up at me as I looked down from my bedroom window, attired for the moment in shirt sleeves as I paused while dressing.

A poor artless thing, plain, unattractive, her dark hair cropped mannishly, she would make some impoverished nobleman a truly miserable bride, though her dowry would doubtless make the whole miserable exercise bearable.

“Indeed it is quite remarkable,” she added.

“Remarkable,” I agreed.

“Quite remarkable,” she repeated absent-mindedly as she stared at me for longer than strictly necessary before she returned to staring at the grounds.

I pitied her as I pitied her father, two sad aristocrats trapped by their very affluence, inheriting huge but decreasing wealth so needing to marry for wealth and position instead of love.

The father needed people such as myself, business people, fifty years before I should not have been allowed in the front door but today with the railways criss-crossing the country I was welcomed with open arms and though aged only twenty seven years I was seemingly treated as an equal though with exquisitely concealed contempt.

I stepped away from the window pulled on my tie and waistcoat and checked my appearance in the mirror. His Lordship had summoned us to his study for a business meeting before the serious business of dinner and cards.

We sat around the long table in the green room, Blatchford, Lord Marchington’s appointee to the board and de facto chairman opened proceedings, “Gentlemen, I have the last quarter’s accounts,” he announced, “Trading conditions remain difficult,” he said.

Difficult? how could they be difficult? I wondered, “But with careful management we have managed to stabilise the position.”

“Stabilise?” Cornard queried, “Good god man, we should be struggling to spend the proceeds not talking about stability!”

“We were seriously under capitalised for the present,” Blatchford continued, I smelled a rat, something was very wrong, “But after rationalisation and disposal of certain assets, the barque ‘Cullombine’ and the steamer ‘Princess Alice’ we.”

“You sold the Princess Alice?” Brompton gasped, “For gods sake why?”

“And who to?” I queried, “For how much?”

Blatchford blushed redder than a ripe Tomato, “Why, to a broker, Allenby’s,” he said.

“So why does she still sail with the Marchington colours,” I queried.

“Maybe the new owners?” Blatchington queried.

“Maybe you sold her to another or Marchington’s lines?” Grant queried, “I detect skulduggery.”

My heart pounded, we had been well and truly rooked, Marchington’s man moving assets between his holdings as if he were sole owner until one firm became unviable and we the investors lost everything.

I knew in an instant that the game was up, “Anyone for a spot of shooting?” I asked.

“Good god man the light is going,” Grant protested in confusion.

“Oh not game, the noble Lord for I swear I’ll shoot the bastard!” I announced, “So if you will excuse me!”

I stood up and left them, anger overwhelming me, why had I trusted them? a quarter of my equity effectively gone, probably not worth shooting the lord and being hung for but.

Annabel was in the hallway, “Mr Thompsett, why you look quite decomposed,” she declared.

I laughed, “Not decomposed yet, discomfitted perhaps.”

“I find the gardens very relaxing,” she said, “Shall you join me for a stroll, let nature soothe our cares away?”

“Why not!” I agreed, an alternative strategy presenting itself, Marchington might yet be wounded worse than with musket and ball I decided.

I let Annabel talk, she could barely string two sentences together coherently, flitting from flowers to butterflies and such like, quoting Latin names of the most unlikely nature as if by rote.

We strolled to the edge of the lawn, passed through the high hedge and stopped in the glade where the ride led arrow straight towards the sea in the far distance.

“Your father has robbed me, Miss Annabel, stolen from me,” I said firmly, “So in my turn I shall steal something quite precious from him.”

“Steal?” she asked, “So why confess to me.”

“I shall steal your honour,” I declared, “Disrobe!”

“Hahaha,” she laughed, “How delightful, oh you have such a wonderful sense of humour Mr Thompsett.”

“Disrobe damn you!” I demanded.

“Oh dear,” she retorted, I do believe you are serious Mr Thomsett, are you overcome with passion?

“A passion for justice and revenge perhaps,” I snapped.

“Oh you do say the most charming things,”she said sarcastically, “I wonder you don’t have ladies queueing up to touch your feet.”

“Disrobe damn you!” I repeated, “Or I shall do it for you!”

She made a half hearted attempt to run but I caught her, five yards from the hedge and safety it might have been a mile as I caught her round the waist and swept her off her feet.

She fell backwards and I guided her down and swept her voluminous skirts up around her neck. Skirts and underskirts I swept up until her woman’s parts were entirely revealed but for a triangle of unkempt dark hairiness, the like of which no whore would dare to allow.

The lack of pantaloons might surprise the lower orders but rest assured it was naught but the norm for ladies of the time, as with such voluminous skirts, pantaloons would be entirely unmanageable without assistance.

She lay quietly and offered no resistance, but she gasped as I tore at the buttons on my fly and sought to lower my breeches one handedly.

I thrust my knee between her knees and spread her thighs, and as my breeches and under breeches descended so my member swelled reassuringly in the cool air.

She stared at my member, with more curiosity than fear.

I touched her inner thigh, she moaned softly, her skin was so soft, silken almost, no sign of dark hair, had she shaved them?

I touched her mound, “No!” she protested, “Please!”

“Quiet,” I demanded, “Now relax and enjoy, or clench and suffer the consequences.”

I ran my finger tip around the groove seeking the moist entrance to her womb but her muscles clenched firmly denying me.

She trembled as if chilled. I swept her gown from her left shoulder, it fell revealing her left breast. I brushed the nipple tenderly and watched and felt it harden

She gasped as the teat swelled under my touch. With my other hand I explored between her legs until I found the soft yielding place and eased my finger tip in to her virgin womb.

She moaned softly, further my finger entered and further she yielded, a second finger I entered, a third seeking her virginity.

I went to use my thumb but, “No please!” she pleaded but she made no attempt to throw me off as I sank down and knelt between her knees.

“Damn you my patience is exhausted,” I declared and I grasped my now fully erect member, and sought her womb as a place to embed it. It seemed odd that she stared with unseemly interest but I paid it no heed.

It seemed most odd on reflection, but as I advanced she made no attempt to escape, indeed her hand stole to her exposed breast, perhaps to cover it again perhaps to arouse herself but again I paid no heed as I eased her thighs wide apart.

A final exploration with a finger proved her womb was ready to receive me so I aimed my member at her womb and as the tip parted her soft moist vaginal lips in my mind were thoughs of naught but sheathing myself and taking her honour, pleasure would be but a bonus.

The lips of her womb welcomed me more easily than I expected. She seemed excitedly moist. I entered far more easily than I expected and when I went to thrust against her maidenhead, there was naught to slow me. Nothing. So instead of having to repeatedly thrust against her maidenhead to burst it asunder, I quite suddenly found I was sheathed entirely indeed my root was against her belly and I was sheathed completely. Realisation took a moment but then it was laid bare, she had no maidenhead. She was no virgin, she had no honour and indeed she was matching my every thrust and enjoying it as wantonly as any brothel whore.

Realisation hit me, she had tricked me

“Oh Mr Thomsett you have taken my honour!” she giggled.

“You had no honour!” I protested.

“But who is to know?” she giggled, “No one, but pray continue. Have your evil way with me, use me like a whore if you will.”

”You tricked me!” I protested.

“Mmmmm,” she whispered, “I have a weakness for broad shoulders, a firm jaw line and a nice bulge in the breeches.”

“Well rest assured I have no weakness for disagreeable bean poles who trick me,” I replied.

“Fine words Mr Thomsett,” she teased, “But your member disagrees, he just loves it inside my womb, he told me.”

“Madam my member does not talk,” I replied.

“But he does,” she replied, “He is so sweet and tender, gently caressing and soothing me.”

“Then that is my error. I had intended him to chastise you, I see I shall have to be more forceful.” I declared as I thrust as hard as I might.

“Yes, harder, faster, show me how much you desire me,” she whispered with laughing eyes.

I did as she bid, my mind blurring in a frenzy as my tool swelled and my very being expanded until it might be released in a moment of ecstasy.

It burst forth as sunlight from cloud, a damn burst like a broken canal gate gushing and rushing, “Ohhhh,” she gasped and smiled.

“Are you done?” she asked.

“Indeed,” I agreed, “Completely spent your work is done.”

I pulled myself from her. She rolled from under me and stood up, “Yes, you’ll do” she declared and taking her gown in both hands she tore the front wide open popping studs and buttons and tearing cloth.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Nothing!” she smiled.

I heard footsteps approaching and then they were upon us, “Thompsett you cad,” Grant declared.

“Thomsett you bloody fool!” Allenby cautioned.

“He, he did things,” Annabel complained, as more of the party joined us, “He took advantage, I do believe he took my honour!”

“Call the constable!” Allenby demanded.

I did not resist, Lord Marchington could not bear to look at me so they took me to the cellar where they locked me in a store room.

It was late evening when Menzies the constable came to see me, “I have to arrest you sir, but as there is no suitable cell for a gentleman at my abode his lordship has agreed to keep you here.”

“On what charge?” I asked.

“Why rape sir, or breach of promise, or assault, or all three,” he suggested.

“Is he safe?” Annabel asked as she came into the cellar, “I should feel safer if he was chained up.”

“Quite safe madam,” the constable insisted.

“Can you not chain him up?” she suggested.

“For heaven’s sake,” I said, “I am no monster, you tricked me madam, you seduced me remember?”

“Oh really,” she demanded, “Chain him up I say!”

The constable was unsure, “I don’t believe,” he started to say.

“Chain the blighter up,” Lord Marchington bellowed from somewhere unseen so they did, using two pairs of hand cuffs threaded through hooks let into the wall in medieval times for this very purpose so I could only stand or sit on the hard wooden seat provided but at least I was allowed to sit and face away from the wall.

They left me to my thoughts.

It was late into the night when Annabel came, , she wore a huge all enveloping dressing gown and carried a huge whale – oil lamp.

“Hello,” she said, “Did you enjoy it?” she asked. “Taking my honour?”

“No,” I said, “I did not.”

“Oh dear,” she said, “For I found your cock to be most agreeable.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You were very passionate,” she said enigmatically, “Like little Kenny, but your cock is bigger, not so wide or fat as Milligan’s or Prout’s but longer than Carstairs or Flanagan but not big enough to hurt me like Mr MacGuire did when he tried.”

“What?” I demanded in shocked surprise.

“Did you not know that I have consorted with almost all the servants, with grounds – men and footmen?” she asked coyly, “Why ever since as long as I can remember I have used them for my play things.”

“What, all of them?” I demanded.

She nodded agreement, “Indeed, I took advantage of them Mr Thompsett, and now I have the advantage of you also.”

“Consorted, fornicated, fucked?” I asked in horror.

“Absolutely, fornicated, sodomy, I took my pleasure wantonly Mr Thompsett?” she explained and she asked, “Did you not see me watching the new gardener earlier. Why with his bronzed torso, his rippling muscles and his bulging breeches I would have laid for him in an instant.”

“Laid for him?,” I queried.

“Indeed but sadly he likes a girl with big udders Mr Thompsett, but I have such modest ones, do you like big udders?” she asked.

“On a cow,” I admitted, “But yes, I own I like big udders as much as the next man.”

“So you do not like me?” she asked.

“Hardly,” I admitted, “You had me locked up.”

“Which is such a shame because you are so beautiful and manly and you fuck so passionately,” she declared.

“Miss Gresham!” I protested.

“You raped me,” she said, “Why?”

“To hurt your father of course,” I admitted.

“And you didn’t find me attractive at all?” she asked.

“No, but the act itself was not unpleasant,” I admitted.

“No indeed it was quite delightful,” she declared and she closed the cellar door.

She slipped the dressing gown from her shoulders and stood before me naked but for her stockings and slippers.

Her small breasts stood out firmly from her chest as she stood with hands on hips, “Are you sure you do not find me desirable?”

“Entirely,” I said but she advanced towards me.

“Absolutely sure?” she asked as she fumbled with my fly buttons and belt to release my member from my breeches.

“Please unhand me, this is unseemly,” I hissed, “Please!”

But my member betrayed me, he reared mightily.

“Absolutely sure?” she asked as she put one foot on my seat and raised herself up while grasping my member. “Absolutely sure?” she asked as she sank down impaling herself.

“Oh my lord!” I gasped, “Heaven preserve me!”

“It’s nice, nice and long not too fat,” she assured me, “With a nice powerful spurt, Mmmmm,” she said as she humped up and down.

Her small breasts wobbled up and down as she pleasured herself, “Mmmmmm, I like that.”

“Uh,” I said, “Hurting my wrists.”

“Oh dear, poor Mr Thompsett,” she commiserated, “But enough, spurt if you please and I shall bid you good-night.”

“I cannot just spurt to order,” I insisted but she had distracted me from the task in hand and my body betrayed me once more and a jet of seed shot through my member and flooded deep inside her.

“It seems that you can Mr Thompsett,” she pointed out, “And I find your member entirely acceptable so perhaps if you would care to make an offer of marriage the whole matter of our misunderstanding can be forgotten.”

“And if not?” I asked as she climbed off me.

“Hanging is the penalty I think,” she confirmed as she slipped her dressing gown on, “But think of me as you dream.”

“My breeches, can you pull my breeches closed?” I asked.

“No, absolutely not, what a strange request to make of young lady, sorry,” she replied and she left me, laughing as she went.

So there I sat, member displayed as I tried to sleep.

“Good god the man’s a pervert!” Lord Marchington’s deep voice boomed as he entered the cellar, “But for some inexplicable reason my Annabel has begged for mercy for you as she understands it was overwhelming desire in your part which led to this unseemliness.”

“Indeed sir,” I agreed.

“In that case, I give my blessing, no dowry mind,” he admitted.

“What?” I demanded.

“She’ll drop all charges as soon as your wed,” he suggested, “Old ‘Wobbly’ Wilberforce the Magistrate from Castlethorpe can do the honours before lunch if you get a move on.”

“So I marry Annabel or hang, may I have time to consider?” I asked.

“No you may not,” Annabel protested as she joined us, “And put your member away, it looks ridiculous.”

Wilberforce indeed declared us married that very morning, she in her ordinary gown and myself in handcuffs which were only removed when the ceremony ended.

“May I go?” I asked.

“Indeed, after the marriage is consummated,” Wilberforce agreed.

So we repaired to Annabel’ bed chamber.

We undressed very decorously and slid beneath her bed sheets.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you in the bedroom window,” she said, “Your broad shoulders, your firm jawline.”

“I own I don’t even begin to like you,” I insisted, “But I shall use you like a whore.”

“Really!” she said.

“With no consideration what so ever!” I insisted.

“Good,” she said, “For I am with child, it is why I did not resist you, I had to entrap you or at least entrap someone, but you are a fine lusty figure of a man, do you see.”

“Oh good lord.” I declared hopelessly.

“I can hardly marry one of the gardeners can I?” she suggested, “Sorry.”

“No matter,” I insisted, “Get your legs apart and I shall forget all in the throes of ecstasy.”

“Forget all? surely not,” she said and she grasped my member.

“Forget, forget what a stupid idiot I have been,” I said as I rolled over and placed my knees between hers.

She guided me into her moistness, I slid into her easily, “I shall forget,” I said as I began to hump.

“Yes,” she said, “Kiss me knead my breasts use me,” she urged, “Harder my lover, show me how much you desire me.”

“Desire is not love,” I cautioned as I slowed my pounding to a gentle easement.

“Then show me love,” she said.

“I do not love you,” I said and she wriggled deliciously beneath me, “Though I own you do rouse passions within me.”

“And so you would wish me to continue to consort with gardeners would you?” she asked.

“No, I shall keep you for myself,” I said.

“Then I own you do love me,” she insisted, “Or you would prong me from the rear like Kenny the gardener so you might imagine I were your beloved.”

I stopped thrusting entirely, “But why allow them to use you thus?” I asked.

“I have needs Mr Thompsett, urgent needs, do you see?” she asked, “I need a lusty lover, or three.”

“Oh you poor child,” I said commiserating.

“Hardly a child Mr Thompsett, I have eighteen years remember.” she said.

“And I twenty seven almost,” I admitted, “And I also have needs,” I added and I again began to thrust against her.

Apocalypse arrived with the precipitous abruptness of seed in a gushing waterfall and our union was consummate.

I rolled aside, “We are one,” I sighed, “Are you content?”

“For now,” she said, “Shall we rejoin the party?”

“What rush away as if I am paying by the hour, I think not, no come here and kiss me, play act at being my lover,” I suggested, “Then there are mulifarious permutations of conjoinment to explore.”

“Really!” she said, “Oh I do so want to try new permutations, the gardeners were very predictable.”

“Oh good lord,” I cautioned, “You are worse than a whore.”

“Oh no, I shall be much better than any whore,” she laughed.

And then there was a knock at the door, “Are you done sir?” the Butler asked, “Only the physician has another call.”

“He will want to check you have made a woman of me!” Annabel assured me.

“Then yes, one moment and we shall be ready,” I called and dressing hastily I made my way from the room.

The Physician did his mischief, as I waited outside the door. This was much to her enjoyment judging from Annabel’s giggles and then all was silence, and then a sober faced Annabel faced me, “There is no child,” she said, “Oh good god, it was all for nothing.”

“It?” I queried.

“The rushed marriage, father said I must seduce someone, but I was deceived,” she said awkwardly.

“No matter,” I said as I held her arms.

“No church, no gowns, no ceremony,” she said awkwardly, “I feel so foolish.”

I held her tight, “We can have a blessing, ‘tis much the same, if you like?” I suggested.

“But I didn’t need to trap you,” she said sadly.

“Oh I think you did,” I replied, “That is if you wanted to explore all those various ways to conjoin.”

“How so?” she asked.

“No dowry, no udders to speak of, how else were you to entice me?” I asked.

“But you still want me?” she asked hopefully.

“Indeed,” I agreed, “You fuck more nicely than any whore of my acquaintance, and I am sure between the two of us we can extract a reasonable dowry from your skinflint of a father.”

“Actually I think he admires your business acumen and wants you to manage his business affairs for him,” she said nervously.

“With his bunch of cheating stealing thoroughly untrustworthy cronies I doubt I can be of any service what ever,” I replied.

“Yes but they cheat him too,” she explained, “Can we really have a blessing in church with a white dress and everything?”

“As long as you wear it and not I,” I agreed.

“Oh thank you!” she said and she pulled me back into the bedroom.

The physician looked embarrassed, “You don’t have to stay,” Annabel teased.

“Oh yes, good day,” The physician exclaimed as he slipped away and then it was just we two again, with all the world of positions in which to conjoin to explore.

But plenty of time for that, I simply lay her on her back, I parted her thighs and I inserted my member in her gloriously hot and wet box and I was transported straight to heaven again.

To be continued

Note this is ‘Entrapped by Miss Annabel’ wiles’ reposted because of troll activity and re edited and rewritten.

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