My name is Charles Dickredy and I have lived in the Norfolk Broads, in the year of our lord of eighteen thirty eight, for all of my seventeen years. I know not why I relate this story of love and lust to you simply because of the hurt and trauma that it has caused me, except perhaps, so that others may avoid the pitfalls of kindness and of falling in love with beautiful rich women. Not that one chooses who they fall in love with, of course.
I come from a community of simple folk. My father was a blacksmith and my mother, a seamstress. We had a modest little cottage in a small community and as a family we made enough money to survive, though, our staple diet consisted largely of bread and oats.
My father was always a kind man, always helping those in need when they most needed help. My mother had cause to be a little more cautious; especially after the beatings she received from a wealthy householder that lived not a hundred feet away from the house where she was born. She ran away from home at the age of sixteen and from her job as a kitchen maid. In an attempt to make ends meet she taught herself to sew, and was pretty chuffed with herself to be regarded as an excellent seamstress in later life. It was less than a year after meeting my father that I happened along. Financially, I must have been a burden, but I was loved.
My father’s kindness was instilled in me from an early age and it is with a heavy heart that I remember those fateful days. It started when I helped a man in need escape across the waters by lending them food and a small rowing boat. It didn’t help out of kindness as such, more out of being a little scared of him when I found him sleeping in the barn. It was soon after, that my parents were accused of helping an escaped prisoner and were judged, incorrectly, to have acted against the law. It was only days later that they were hanged, in public, for all to see, including me.
I should have spoken aloud, confessed that it was I that did it and not my parents, but my mouth was shut tight with the horror of what was happening. My eyes could see the truth quite clearly despite being shut tight when the rope tightened around my parent’s necks. A kind woman, a friend of my mother, gathered my sobbing face and weak body and pressed me tightly into her dress. She refused to let me watch the scene unfold before me.
I don’t really know what I thought after the event. I thought I had no-one left in this world; my mother a single child and my father had only one sister that lived some distance away and I knew not where. There were no grandparents left to look after me and so I believed that my life would be in my hands alone, as difficult as that would have been with the death of my parents pressing ever inwards and suffocating every smile that was to appear on my lips. Needless to say, I didn’t smile much.
And so it was with shock that I was sent to live with my Aunt Bessie. I believed that I owned nothing more than the clothes I stood up in, yet I was told, by a well-dressed gent wearing a shiny top hat, that I would have monies due to me from the house. I remember nodding but knew nothing of what he meant. I think he mentioned two hundred pounds. At the time I didn’t know what a pound was and so I shrugged my shoulders and nodded enthusiastically. At seventeen years of age my education was simple, do my chores and watch my dad work so that I could learn from him. The latter was now out of the question and the former had fallen by the wayside; at least for the moment. Though I am sure my Aunt will fill my days with work for me to carry out.
I expected Aunt Bessie to live a simple life, just like I did, so you can imagine my surprise when I was marched up a gravel path to a mansion that stood head and shoulders above any nearby trees. My surprise was even greater when I saw a girl standing next to my Aunt in the doorway of the house. As I approached, I lowered my head, not daring to look my Aunt in the eye in case she saw in them, the truth of what happened to my parents. At forty-seven years of age, Aunt Bessie sported a full breasted frontage and one that any sensible man or boy would be careful to avoid getting caught up in.
I did glance at the girl standing next to her. I did notice her shiny black shoes and her long blue dress; trimmed with white lace and edging. A lace trim circled around her neck and big blue bow seemed to extend from her back and wrap itself around her. Her brown hair was neatly made into ringlets held together with white braided bows.
She looked beautiful and she looked down at me like no-one had ever looked down on me before.
“Come here, boy. I can only imagine what you have been through, come now, you’re living here with us now, Alletse and I.”
I looked up at my Aunt with her hands outstretched and a broad welcoming smile on her face; complete opposite to the scowl that was fixed on Alletse’s face. I quickly ran into my Aunt’s arms and was greeted with warmth and belonging. Yet I knew neither of them and wondered what possessed them to take me into their care in the first place; a pauper and good for nothing young man.
Aunt Bessie passed me to a man wearing a black suit that took my one bag of belongings. Over my shoulder I saw Aunt Bessie talk to the kind man that brought me to this place but I couldn’t hear their conversation as I was ushered inside by a firm hand upon my back. A smile appeared on Aunt Bessie’s face and a white envelope passed between them. I surmised that she was pleased to look after her brother’s only son.
ooOoo
The house was huge. For the first two days, I found myself lost at just about every corner of every corridor; not knowing which way to turn next or what direction to proceed in. I daren’t go outside for fear of never returning. The thick woodland that surrounded the mansion would have gobbled me up for good. Fields extended forever in all directions apart from the one direction that contained the path that led from a well-used road.
Initially, I avoided Alletse as much as I could. She wasn’t very talkative and when we did find ourselves in each other’s company our verbal exchange was short and sweet; to the point of being insipid. It must have been hard for her to be the only daughter of such a wealthy Aunt and it must have been a burden to have to aspire to so much.
When I did pass Alletse’s bedroom door, which only ever happened when I took a certain route to my own bedroom, I often used to stop and press my ear to the door. I often heard whimpering sounds and light moans issue from inside. I knew nothing of what might cause her to utter such sounds, though I wanted to find out. One night, I stood guard in the corridor to see if anyone left, but no one did.
I found out, through one of the maids that I had befriended, that Alletse felt threatened by my presence.
“She’s right royally scared of you master,” she told me.
I never realised that Alletse felt that way about me and I couldn’t understand why she would be afraid in the first place. I made a plan to find out a little more about Alletse despite being cautious of her, yet I started to warm to her. She was older than me but she had nice mannerisms that appealed to me. The way she skipped down the corridors when no one was looking, the way she tilted her head to one side when Aunt Bessie scolded her; which was rare as she was so perfect, according to Aunt Bessie that is.
It must have taken a few months before Alletse spoke to me without being disdainful. Yet, things did change and more recently we have been getting on like a house on fire. She eventually seemed to like me and we even spent time walking the gardens and grounds of the estate; arm-in-arm. When she dressed for dinner, she was always very elegant and I admit that on more than one occasion, my heart would pound incessantly as she approached the small dining room. I often stood in the doorway so that I could catch a whiff of her fragrance as she flew past me to greet Aunt Bessie.
One evening, she even let me walk her to her bedroom. I wanted to ask her about the noises that came from her room or perhaps peek inside and set eyes on whatever it was that made them. Alletse stopped suddenly and announced that she was thankful for me walking with her, but that she needed to retire. She was so close to me I thought she was going to kiss me. I backed away and before I knew it I was walking away to my own room. I looked back briefly to find that Alletse was gone. I contemplated turning around and putting my ear to her door, but I was tired myself and sleep seemed the only sensible option.
One day, while sitting in the library with Alletse reading some literature, I found myself looking at one of the few picture books containing line drawings of all the most popular plant species; although I was being taught to read by a governess that was appointed to educate me. I quickly gave up trying to read books in front of Alletse; I did it once and she laughed at me for pronouncing words incorrectly and too slowly. But, while sitting there on this sunny afternoon, a thought occurred to me. One that I could not purge from my head and one that had to be announced out loud.
“What kind of name is Alletse?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s strange, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re name is strange too.”
“Mine’s not strange, Charles is my father’s first name and I’m proud of my family name.”
“Dickredy. Dick-ready. Dickus-Readius if you could speak Latin, which you can’t of course,” she chided.
“Well, you’re a spoilt little brat and not worthy of being my cousin,” I shouted back.
Alletse started to cry, small sobs at first before the floodgates opened. I looked at her not knowing why she reacted that way, and then the barrage of explanation left her mouth so quickly that I felt ashamed.
“I’m adopted. I’m not your Aunt Bessie’s daughter. I’m not your cousin. My parents have died too and I’m just as alone as you.”
I felt a great conflict in my heart. I had not meant to cause Alletse’s memories to surface so dramatically; similar memories to the ones that I had hidden so deeply; memories that were perhaps, best forgotten. I put my arm around her and pulled her head close to mine; burying it in my shoulder. I hugged her close to me and I could feel her chest heave on mine as she sobbed. I started to feel strange, like I was having an experience that I had never had before. I felt that part of me was not me. I felt my member move in my trousers and with dread I started to push Alletse away from me. She resisted and clung to me ever harder as she sobbed.
I was later to find out that those tears were born of crocodiles, yet they seemed real at the time. So real in fact that she had instilled in me desires that I didn’t know existed. Alletse sobbed so hard that I could do nothing but feel her chest squash against me. The closeness of her body caused my very own John Thomas to extend and dent the front of her dress and press against her upper thigh. I was horrified. Though, I didn’t see a horrified look on her face as she slowly leant back from me. Her sobbing all but stopped as she looked at me and then down at my trousers to the area where things were – expanding.
I closed my eyes and wished the moment would pass; that everything would get back to normal. Alletse finally looked me in the eye. I was expecting her to scream, shout loudly and run away with her hands flailing in the air, and I knew then that I would be in deep trouble with Aunt Bessie. But she did neither of those things.
Alletse took her hand from around my waist and lowered it. I watched her do it. I watched her cup her hand and press it into my groin. I felt her hand on my private parts and I was rendered speechless; completely caught out by her brazenness. By the time she squeezed me tightly and traced her hand down my length, I had closed my mouth. Seconds later it was open again as her kiss surprised me. It was quickly followed by her tongue; pressing urgently into my mouth.
I couldn’t help but respond. My mind was somewhere else; I wasn’t concentrating on what I should have done or what I now felt that I should do. My mind was telling me to back away, apologise to Alletse and make a hasty retreat. My body rooted me to the spot, willing for me to find out more about that tingling sensation in my groin. I relished the feel of her hand as it squeezed at my growing member. Her kisses swallowed my embarrassment and prevented me from saying anything inappropriately crass.
And then I heard the same moans I had heard during my elicit nighttime listening sessions outside her door, only this time they were being breathed into my mouth as she stroked my most precious John Thomas.