Parlor Games (7 page)

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Authors: Leda Swann

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Fiction, #General, #Short Stories, #Historical, #Short Stories (Single Author), #Man-Woman Relationships, #Adult, #Erotic stories; American

BOOK: Parlor Games
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Polly gave her gentleman one last vigorous suck and his semen spurted into the air, splattering the four of them with tiny droplets.

On the stage in front of them, the shadow man withdrew his cock from the shadow woman’s cunt just in time to spurt his cum over her naked ass.

Sarah gave a surprised cry in the back of her throat and he felt the rush of her juices as she orgasmed under his hands.

Tom slowly withdrew his fingers from her cunt, holding her tightly on his lap until her breathing returned to normal. His cock still hurt with wanting to fuck her, or even for the solitary pleasure of stroking himself into oblivion, but he forced his desires to fade to a manageable level. Even more than he wanted release, right now he simply wanted to hold her tightly in his arms and to love her.

 

 

 

For Sarah, the last week passed by at a gallop. At the end of this night, the month was over. Tom’s funds had run out and he would no longer be able to claim her exclusive ser vices.

She was a free woman—free to sell her ser vices to the man who tickled her fancy the most, or who tipped her the most generously. If she chose wisely—an older gentleman who wanted the appearance of being a rake more than the reality, for instance—she could earn a few pennies to put aside for a rainy day and still keep herself pure.

She clutched Tom’s arm tightly. Why did she care so much about her virginity? She had stripped down to her shift in mixed company, and let Tom touch her everywhere, even there. His touch had given her more pleasure than she had ever known.

In just a few short hours he would be gone from her life. She would never be able to pay him back in kind for the pleasure he had given her.

So why did she feel as though her heart was breaking?

Her thoughts were broken into by the sound of Mrs. Erskine’s voice. “Ladies, go hide yourselves.”

Sarah picked up her skirts and scampered out of the doorway with a couple of the other girls. Tonight, after Sarah had lost half her clothes to Tom in a few hands of ecarte, Mrs. Erskine had changed the game. This evening they were to play hide-and-seek—with a difference.

Sarah and two of her friends were to hide themselves anywhere they liked on the premises—always excepting the coffee house, which was in public view. Once Mrs. Erskine had counted to one hundred, the others were to come and find them. Whenever one of the seekers found one of the hiders, the seeker had to join the hider in her hiding place, until the hiding places were so full that not another body could squeeze in.

Sarah paused at the top of the stairs. “Quick, hide yourself,” one of the other girls whispered to her. “They will be coming up any moment now.”

Without thinking, Sarah ran to her bedroom, the place she knew best, and shut the door behind her. She considered crawling under the bed, but the floorboards were too cold and uninviting. Besides, she did not want to dirty her white linen shift.

She would not crawl into her bed, either, and hide under her bedclothes—that would be an invitation to the seekers to play all sorts of indecent games with her.

The draperies at the window. They were heavy velvet and came right down to the floor. If she arranged herself artfully she could hide behind them and no one would be able to see her.

Already she could hear the rush of eager feet coming up the stairs. Quick as a flash, she darted behind the curtains, standing right up against the wall and tucking her feet in so that not the barest morsel of slipper peeked out from under the bottom.

Quiet as a mouse she crouched there, hardly daring to breathe. She hardly dared to hope that Tom would find her before anyone else did. And if Tom could not find her, she did not want to be found by anyone else.

The noises in the corridor came closer. Her door opened with a squeak and she held herself as still as could be. In trooped at least three people—she could hear the muted scuffle of two girls in slippers and the heavy thumps of their companion in sturdier walking shoes. A threesome, searching the bedrooms for her.

There was a squeak and a rustle of petticoats as one of the girls sat on the bed. “There’s no one here,” she said in a voice of mock complaint.

“I am,” her male companion said, and the bedsprings squeaked in protest again. “Come and pay me some attention.”

“Mmmm, so you are.” There was silence for a few minutes, except for some more squeaking, a fair bit of rustling, and more than a little giggling.

Sarah dared to breathe again. The seekers were too occupied with one another to notice her hiding behind the curtain.

The noises went on for so long that she became curious and opened the curtains a tiny fraction so she could peep between them. As she’d guessed, a man and two girls were lying on her bed. The girls were dressed only in their stockings—all their other clothes were discarded at the end of the bed. Their companion was fully dressed still, though in disarray. He had kicked off his shoes and his shirt had come quite untucked from his trousers, which had slipped off his buttocks.

The girls were locked together in an intimate embrace, their arms wrapped around each other and kissing each other with open mouths. He was lying behind one of them, his hands on her naked hips, thrusting in and out of her with all his might.

As Sarah watched, he gave one last thrust and lay still for a few seconds before rolling off the bed and refastening his trousers. “Grab your clothes, ladies,” he said to the two girls who showed no signs of stopping. “This isn’t going to find us anyone.”

“Do you want to find someone else?” The girl’s voice sounded definitely pouty. “Aren’t we enough for you?”

“Come on. Let’s go.” The tone of his voice brooked no argument.

Sarah quickly hid her face behind the curtains again as the two girls got off the bed, picked their clothes up off the floor and left.

Her solitude did not last long. As soon as the threesome left, another couple entered.

“This is her room.” The voice belonged to Suzanna, a thin-faced French girl with a mean temper and a streak of envy a mile wide.

Sarah stopped breathing again. She dared not hope that the other person in the room was Tom. All the girls knew how much she liked him, and Suzanna would rather sleep on a bed of nails than do a good turn for one of her fellows.

There was a rustle and a clink. “Thank you, my dear.”

Sarah gave a start. That was Sir Richard’s voice, thick and slightly slurred with drink. Sir Richard must have bribed Suzanna to show him which was her room.

Bother Suzanna and her petty greed. The girl would betray her own mother for half a crown.

She really did not want to be caught behind the curtain with Sir Richard. He would be sure to try to maul and kiss her, and she would have to spend her evening fending off his fat fingers and trying to evade his scratchy red whiskers.

Unfortunately he was not as easily fooled as the threesome. He started to look around for her in earnest, opening her wardrobe, getting down on to his knees and looking under her bed.

“Come on, girl, make yourself useful,” he barked at Suzanna, when he did not immediately find anything.

Suzanna’s slippered feet scuffled into action. Sarah’s heart forgot to beat as Suzanna walked directly over to the drapes and pulled them open. “Here she is.” Her eyes glittered with malice.

Sir Richard’s piggy eyes gleamed with excitement as he waddled drunkenly over to her. “My dear girl, I am so pleased to be the first one to find you.” He shuffled inside the curtain, pressing her close up against the wall with his heavy body. “I have waited for this moment for a long time.”

She tried to wriggle away from him, but with his bulk on one side of her and Suzanna on the other, there was nowhere for her to go. She shuffled along the wall away from them, only to find herself at last penned in a corner, like a rat in a trap.

Sir Richard wasted no time in pleasantries. With a gleam of drunken lust in his eyes, he reached up and grabbed at her breasts with his greasy hands. “Very nice,” he mumbled, breathing brandy fumes into her face. “Very nice.”

She tried to shake him off. “Sir Richard, please. You are drunk.”

He gave a snorting laugh and tugged hard on her bodice. “Drunk with love, my dear. I’ve been watching you for weeks now, wasting yourself on that rascally young Grub Street guttersnipe, stripping in front of him and letting him stare at your breasts and touch and kiss you.”

The accusatory tone of his voice and the pressure he was exerting on her bodice started to make Sarah seriously uneasy. “Mr. Wilde paid Mrs. Erskine for my company,” she said, tugging her shift away from him. “I could not refuse him.”

He snorted again, in disgust this time. “He has no manners and no breeding and I could buy and sell him fifty times over. You are wasting yourself on him, my dear. You deserve a real gentleman to look after you.”

All of a sudden her bodice gave way with a loud rip and Sir Richard staggered backward with surprise, a piece of her linen shift dangling from his fist.

Sarah tried to hold the remnants of her bodice together over her naked breasts with both hands. “Sir Richard, that is not the work of a gentleman.” Her voice was shaking.

He was advancing toward her, his evil intentions clearly written on his face. “It doesn’t matter, my dear,” he said, as he deliberately ripped the remnants of her bodice open, letting her breasts spill freely out. “I can buy you twenty more.”

His aggression scared her. If he tried to hurt her for real, would anybody hear her if she called for help? Or would they think her cries were all just part of the game? “I don’t want twenty more chemises. This is not a game anymore, Sir Richard. I want you to leave my room at once.”

His hands were all over her breasts, pinching her skin cruelly with his vicious fingers. “Now then, my dear, don’t be so touchy. I just want to play an innocent little game with you. The game that men and women have always played together.”

“Please, let me go.” She was struggling with all her might, but she could not get free of his hands.

He leaned against her, pressing her body into the wall with his bulk so she could not move, and then reached down to fumble with his trousers. “I’m willing to forgive you for playing around with that Grub Street hack and for not coming to me as pure and innocent as you were a month ago. I lay the blame firmly on his shoulders. He stole you from me, and forced me to bide my time until his money ran out. But you will come to me now and let me taste your sweet naked body.”

His cock sprung free from his trousers and nudged up firmly against her mound, making her feel sick to her stomach. His intentions were crystal-clear. He would not be content with mauling her breasts—he was going to rape her.

She gave Suzanna a look of entreaty. “Will you stand by and let him misuse me so?”

Suzanna shrugged carelessly, her face mean and pinched. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, refusing to spread your legs for the gentlemen. Sir Richard is going to show you that you’re no better than the rest of us whores.”

Sir Richard was stroking his cock furiously with one hand as he groped under her petticoats with the other. “I’ll show you your place, I will,” he grunted. “I’ll use you as I use my wife, and the slut of a governess she employs, and the house maids, and every other whoring little bitch who flaunts herself in front of me. I’ll fuck every last one of you whenever I please. I’ll fuck you all until you scream and beg me to stop, and then I’ll fuck you some more.”

Suzanna smiled a thin-lipped smile, feeding on Sarah’s terror. “And I shall enjoy watching you get your comeuppance as he ruts on you.”

“Get down on your knees, girl, and suck my cock.”

Sarah whimpered and shook her head. Her only thought was how to escape from this nightmare.

Sir Richard gave her a vicious blow with the back of his hand. “That will teach you to disobey me. On your knees.”

Whimpering from shock and from the pain of the blow, Sarah sank to her knees.

Sir Richard poked his cock roughly into her unwilling mouth until she gagged on it.

“Damn you, girl, you’re enough to ruin any man’s ardor,” he grumbled. “Come on, you,” he said, gesturing at Suzanna. “Come and show the little whore how it’s done properly.”

Suzanna dropped willingly to her knees and took his cock deep in her mouth, sucking on it with gusto. “You taste good,” she purred when she finally came up for air, throwing a malicious glance at Sarah.

He took his cock out of Suzanna’s mouth and thrust it back at Sarah. “Your turn now, girl.”

Sarah gagged uncontrollably again as his cock touched her lips and turned her head away. Having his hairy member thrusting down her throat was too disgusting to bear. The risk of another beating was nothing in comparison.

He gave up with a noise of disgust and pulled her to her feet. “Damn you for a sullen whore. I will have to teach you better manners.”

“She needs correcting,” Suzanna suggested, still kneeling at his feet. “A good whipping would soon sort her out.”

He dragged Sarah over to the bed and pushed her down on her back. “I will whip her later.” With one hand he held her down while with the other he tore away her petticoats.

She would not let him rape her. She would not. Clawing and biting at him with all her might, she tried to wriggle away from his grasp.

Sir Richard was panting with the effort of holding her. “Come hold the little whore down,” he growled at Suzanna.

“Yes, Sir Richard,” Suzanna said meekly. She sat at the head of the bed and grabbed Sarah’s flailing arms, pinning them to the bed.

Her grip was strong for such a thin, fragile-looking woman. Try as she might, Sarah could not break free.

Sir Richard forced her legs apart with his fat fingers. His thick cock was grasped so tightly in his hand that the purple head bulged threateningly.

Despite her last desperate struggles, she could not get free. Sir Richard would rape her. There would be no escape.

Her stomach heaved and the room began to spin around her. As if from far away, she heard herself scream—an animal scream of pure terror.

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