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Second Place “Sexy Cam Fun” Competition.

The Society for the Suppression of Vice

Sometimes your worst enemy is also your best friend...
London 13th January 1872

“I say, have you seen today’s copy of Leisure Hour?”

“No. Not as yet, George. Anything good?”

“There’s an appeal from the Society for the Suppression of Vice.” The movement of whiskers suggested that they were hiding an amused smile as the owner of the curling lips leant forward and poured another generous measure of whisky into his glass.

“Another snifter?” Hazel eyes shifted away from the text of a newspaper and took a lingering look at the half empty bottle of Walker's Special Old Highland Red Label.

“I don’t see why not.” The words were light, but noticeably slurred. The second glass on the table was lifted momentarily and returned with its contents having been drained. The fingers were slender, encased in finest lace, the nails neat and unblemished.

“So what are Lord Tightmouth and his cronies after this time?” There was a girlish giggle which was quickly muffled by the back of a laced hand.

“Ahem,” George began. “He says, This society, instituted in 1802, has laboured unremittingly to check the spread of open vice and immorality, and more especially to preserve the minds of the young from contamination by exposure to the corrupting influence of impure and licentious books, prints, and other publications, its difficulties have been greatly increased by the application of photography, multiplying, at an insignificant cost, filthy representations from living models, and the improvement in the postal service has further introduced facilities for secret trading which were previously unknown.”

“All quite true, quite true.”

“He goes on to say that in spite of all efforts these polluting productions are still circulated throughout the country, principally through the post-office, penetrating into the schools of both sexes.

“He actually said ‘penetrate’? I’ll bet that made the old prude a little hot under the collar, knowing that we have brought forth new meaning to that word.”

Within the last two years it has also been the means of bringing to punishment, by imprisonment, hard labour, and fines, upwards of forty of the most notorious dealers, and within a few years has seized and destroyed the following enormous mass of corrupting matters :—140,213 obscene prints, pictures, and photographs blah, blah, blah. The committee earnestly appeal to the public for funds to aid them in their labours to suppress this abominable traffic.” Having finished his reading, George paused to take a sip of whisky. “Are you going to make a contribution?”

“I am.”

“How much this year?”

“Oh, I don’t know, three… four hundred pounds.” George made a horrendous noise as he first inhaled, then coughed out a mouthful of Red Label, leaving dew drops of whisky hanging from the magnificent handles of this moustache.

“How much?”

“Three or four hundred pounds. Maybe five.”

“Five hundred pounds?”

“It’s a small price to pay. Lord Teignmouth and Mr Collette have almost single-handedly wiped out our competition. How many ‘notorious dealers’ has our friend dealt with?”

George studied the magazine. “It says here upwards of forty.”

A broad but shy smile spread across the smooth, pretty features of Lady Florence Gorham. “To Lord Teignmouth. Long may he continue his work.”

“Lord Teignmouth,” George repeated, uncertainly. His lips smacked as he savoured the long smoky burn of the whisky.

“It’s a really good blend.” Lady Florence sighed, as she took a second sip and rolled the oily liquid around her mouth. George shifted uncomfortably in his chair, remembering as he watched her mouth moving. That mouth was capable of granting untold pleasures.



“Isn’t Tightmouth the enemy?” Lady Florence laughed prettily, instinctively hiding her loss of control behind the crystal tumbler, sloshing the still-generous depth of whisky high up its side.

“Teignmouth? Charles?” The laughter became less and less refined. “He’s done more for us over the last few years than we could have ever hoped for.” There was a snort, which was not befitting a Lady in a gentleman’s company. But then not may ladies sat in the parlour reading the newspapers and magazines while drinking whisky by the oil lamp. “Poor Charles has wiped out all our major competition, created our market by destroying thousands upon thousands of filthy images and…” Lady Gorham paused to take another quite unladylike gulp, “he even gives us free advertising in all the biggest periodicals. The man is a fool, but a very useful fool.”

Lady Flo snorted again before laughing even more uproariously. George watched from behind a bemused smile. Eventually Florence giggled herself to a halt and sighed happily. “Poor Charles. Yes, I think he deserves at least five hundred.” Lady Flo tucked her legs up under herself as she sank back against the deep red leather of her seat – a position which exposed the entire length of her calves. George had to cross his legs to hide the full erection which was now tent-poling the crotch of his trousers.

“I say, Flo, any chance of a suck?”

“Not a one, George - besides you need to save your spunk for April. You’re going to get to bugger that saucy minx on the morrow.”

George closed one eye and groaned. “That is not helping my current situation. I earnestly doubt that my ability to service that winsome wench would be much impaired by your sweet lips on my cock now.” Lady Flo giggled.

“Indeed. Maybe a rub would satisfy your lust?” Lady Florence gathered her petticoats and went to sit beside George on the lounger. “My, my George! All this talk of money has enflamed your ardour. Perhaps we should talk of pounds shillings and pence more often.”

“It was not the money which caused that, my dear. You look particularly handsome by the lamp light and the way you handle your whisky…. arghhhhh.” George sagged back with delighted contentment as Lady Florence took his member deep inside her mouth. The burn of the alcohol meant there was a delicious painful undercurrent to the pleasure. Of all the women who had sucked his famous cock, Lady Florence was by far the most skilled and enthusiastic – even when, as now, she was the worse for drink.

“My Lady?” A voice asked from the deeper shadows.

“Show yourself, girl,” Lady Gorham said. A young woman of perhaps 18 years stepped into the light and gave a little curtsy. George had had no idea that there was anyone else present in the room.

“Would there be anything else, my Lady?” Lady Gorham looked up from George’s crotch and smiled as she used her gripping hand to rub George’s spit-shiny cock along her lips.

“Mary,” Flo whispered. “Have you ever sucked a man?”

“No Miss,” Mary said, dipping her head. Even in the deep oranges and yellows of the oil lamp, the rising colour in Mary’s cheeks was obvious to both George and Lady Gorham.

“But you’d like to.” It was a statement, not a question. “Come here, girl. Take a hold.”

“Yes, Miss.” Mary did as instructed and folded her maid’s uniform neatly under herself as the knelt on the floor beside her employer.

“Give me your hand.” It was against convention for a Lady to have any physical contact with her maid, except during dressing, undressing or bathing, and Mary jumped as Lady Flo took a firm hold of her hand. Mary watched as her fingers closed around George’s upstanding member.

“It’s so… so hot, Miss.” George grunted contentedly as two female hands wrapped around his manhood, one guiding the other.

“If you just move your hand like this,” Flo whispered, pressing her body against the back of the trembling teenager.

“Yes, Miss.” George groaned loudly enough to startle poor Mary. “Is the gentleman unwell, Miss?”

“Quite the opposite, I should have thought, Mary,” Lady Flo smiled up naughtily from within Mary’s bouncing blond locks. “George, do tell - how are you feeling?” George’s gaze flicked up from where it had been examining the bounteous swell of the maid’s cleavage.

“I should feel a damned sight better with an unfettered view of young Mary’s frontage.” Mary gasped at George’s uncouth words and again as she felt the front of her dress being loosened.

“I should like to see them too,” Lady Gorham whispered. Mary had seen Florence naked and had run her soapy hands over every inch of Florence’s body – but never had the maid presented herself in anything other than her full house uniform. Mary kept stroking George’s cock as her Lady pulled at the corsetry containing and hiding her bosom.

“Magnificent!” George exclaimed as the two halves of the dress fell apart. Mary whimpered at her exposure and gasped as Lady Florence slipped her hands around both breasts.

“More than a little inspiration, eh George?” Lady Flo raised her eyebrows suggestively as she gently squeezed both hands and giggled Mary’s bosom.


“Mary, I’d say that my lover is quite taken with you. Maybe he’d like to express his… fervour?” George’s eyes rolled.

“Mary, just keep stroking, but bring your chest up to George’s cock, so that it is housed between your breasts. Yes, just there.” George groaned dangerously as he felt the soft teenage flesh press in against his thighs, scrotum and shaft. Seconds later his hips jerked, lifting his body fully off the seat and he grunted a shocking profanity which made Mary recoil. She didn’t retreat far enough to avoid taking George’s ejaculate onto her face, neck and breasts.

Too innocent or shocked to protest, Mary remained in place as George spunked his filthy worship all over Mary. Eventually, George sagged back, content to return to his scotch as Lady Florence clutched her maid from behind. “You did well, Mary.”

“Did I, Miss?”

“Yes,” Lady Florence confirmed, pulling the topless maid to her feet. “And this is the evidence. Mary shivered as Flo drew her fingers over the exposed flesh of Mary’s cleavage and presented the white slime to her mouth. “You want to taste it?” Mary inclined her head slightly, the colour strengthening in her cheeks once again. Lady Florence pushed her fingers between Mary’s lips and wiped the thick fluid onto her motionless tongue. “Suck my fingers and then swallow,” Lady Florence instructed as George sat forward, his interest renewed.

Mary’s throat bobbed. “It’s very, salty Miss,” she said.

“Would you like some more, Mary?”

“Not really, Miss.”

“Then I shall take your share.” Mary’s eyes went wide as Lady Florence’s head dipped towards her chest and a startled gasp sounded as Flo’s mouth nuzzled over Mary’s breasts, sucking and licking as they went. At first they followed the slippery trails of spunk but when they had been cleansed, lips and tongue circled Mary’s tender flesh and concentrated on each nipple in turn.

“You’re making me hard again,” George grumbled.

“Then I feel it is time that Mary and I retired the comfort of my boudoir. Be sure to save yourself for tomorrow’s exertions, George,” Flo admonished with a smirk. She pushed the parlour door closed as Mary headed out, “Oh, and if you happen to hear any screams… please, don’t come running.”

Flushed with the generous whisky she had consumed, Flo placed an inappropriate hand on Mary’s posterior as they headed up the sweeping staircase and into Lady Florence’s chambers. She felt the tension in her maid’s body and longed to help her to release not just the tension but so much more.

As Mary set about preparing the room, Lady Florence studied her profile: her small nose, the shape of her mouth and the slope of her cheek. Florence’s throat tightened as her eyes drifted lower. Such a wonderfully soft body. Would it be willing?

“Mary?” Florence whispered.

“Yes, Miss?” Florence’s hand tightened on Mary’s wrist and she took a deep breath. The time for words was over. She touched her hand to Mary’s face and pressed a kiss against her lips. Mary was unresponsive, but neither did she attempt to escape. Florence lifted her maid’s face and pressed a soft kiss against her chin, then another on each cheek and as Mary’s head dipped in supplication, one on her forehead.

Mary’s body was thundering with fearful excitement. It had been a wondrous thing to take George’s cock in her hand and make him orgasm. To feel the wet heat of his release on her tits and face had been astonishing. But more than that had been the way Lady Florence had taken care of her, had guided her through her sexual initiation - as she had guided Mary through every other aspect of her life since leaving Derbyshire and entering domestic service. Mary was filled with gratitude for everything that Lady Florence had done for her – but nothing, nothing of this nature had ever been hinted at before this astonishing evening.

Mary had heard the tales of other maids being forced into all manner of deplorable acts, but every one of those acts had been with their Masters. Yet here was her Lady initiating… Mary lifted her face and found her Mistress’ lips, returning the gentle pressure of her mouth and following its lead.

Slowly, Mary’s feelings of gratitude turned into something more needy and demanding. She shifted against Florence, feeling the joy of pressing her body against another for the first time. Florence’s mouth opened and something firm prodded against Mary’s lips, demanding… entrance? Mary opened her mouth and felt Lady Florence’s tongue slide inside and begin to stroke her tongue slowly and sensuously.

“We need to get out of these clothes,” Florence groaned and Mary took it as the instruction it had always been. She fingers pulled expertly at the cords of Florence’s dress but as she did so, she could feel her own dress loosening. Soon soft silken underwear was pressing plain cotton and skin was exposed to skin. Mary gasped as she felt Florence’s soft breasts squash against her own as Lady Gorham moved in for another explosive kiss. Mary’s body shivered with both cold and excitement as Florence stripped away the final, most intimate of clothing.

Mary hadn’t been naked in the presence of another person for as long as she could remember. She felt vulnerable and exposed like never before. Her back arched as Flo lowered her head and took Mary’s nipple into her mouth. It was hard against the cold of the room but Mary gasped at the unexpected intensity of the sensation. The warmth which flooded throughout her body wasn’t just the actual heat of Lady Gorham’s mouth – it was like the welcoming warmth of a hot toddy.

Mary’s hands shot into Flo’s hair and held her in place; not just held but pulled her more firmly onto her breast. “Oh, my Lady!” she gasped, as Florence suckled, teased and tasted her virgin teats.

Mary’s nipples sang with delight as her hands tugged at Florence’s clothes. This wasn’t like any other time Mary had removed Lady Gorham’s attire. The movements of her hands were frenzied. Mary was hot and that heat only increased as her hands cupped Florence’s breasts and her thumbs teased her employer’s nipples in turn. Her palms smoothed across the familiar landscape of Florence’s back but Mary became tense as Flo’s hand started to explore her body in turn. She had never been touched.

“This is wrong, Miss,” Mary protested, as she felt fingers pushing down her belly - but Florence paid no heed and within moments Florence’s fingers were exploring the soft, slippery flesh between Mary’s legs. No words escaped Mary’s lips, only basic moans and sighs as Florence slid her fingers along and into Mary’s pussy.

“Please don’t! Miss! I need my maidenhead.” Lady Gorham knew the significance of a girl’s hymen: f or a single woman, her virginity was her most prized and important asset and vital to maintaining her respectability and social standing. To take Mary’s maidenhead was a symbol of utmost power and authority.

“I’ll look after you, Mary. I swear. Let me do this… please?”

Mary was consumed by desire. By feelings that she could barely understand. She needed to preserve her maidenhood at all costs, lest she join the ranks of the other ‘Fallen Women’ but she wanted… what she wanted was this with Florence right here and now. Never had she imagined that she would give herself to a woman.

Mary relaxed her grip on Florence’s hand and gasped sharply as her Lady pushed two fingers deeper inside her.

Lady Florence felt Mary’s body tense, and knew that at least some of the sensations from the penetration were pain. For a moment, Mary teetered on the brink of tears, overwhelmed by feelings of regret. To have given herself away so cheaply. She breathed through her mouth and nose in big, desperate gulps as Florence pressed her fingers fully inside her pussy.

“Thank you my beautiful, wonderful girl,” Florence whispered, as her fingers curled against the front wall of Mary’s vagina. Florence felt Mary’s body respond. “Let it happen, Mary. Just relax and let me do this for you.”

It was too late. Mary already knew that and her eyelids fluttered as she willed the tears away. Only slowly did she get a grip of her emotional self. Deep down, she knew that she had lost the one thing that had been most precious to her, her most valued possession, her only hope of escaping a life of servitude.

And yet, there was no one more deserving.

Lady Florence had taken Mary under her wing, schooled her in the dark arts of being a Lady. What if lady Gorham chose to eject Mary from her household? No. Mary trusted Florence. Florence was the only person Mary had ever trusted. Losing her maidenhood wasn’t going to change anything… the chances of Mary finding a man who would take her on were miniscule – but to lose that hope… Mary felt ashamed but the passion with which Florence was acting was contagious. Through the fear and regret, Mary couldn’t help but become enflamed herself.

Mary let her hands fall onto Florence’s body even as she tried to untangle her emotions. Her body started to throb as her fingers slid down between Florence’s legs – not to cleanse but to stimulate. Florence’s mouth was on hers again. The swirling tongue, the taste of her Lady excited Mary. She was so wet, so hot as Florence’s fingers moved inside her body, stroking the same delicious spot over and over.

“You’re so beautiful,” Florence whispered. “Open yourself for me.” Mary shuddered as she spread her legs and felt Florence’s fingers work away more easily inside her. She savored the feelings as her muscles tightened around the intruding fingers.

“Oh…” she gasped, as her muscles contracted involuntarily. Florence set up a slow rhythm of out and in and out and in. Mary closed her eyes, and let herself go, let herself be caught up by the incessant motion and the sensations.

Only as another, even-more delicious sensation was added to the melee of stimulation did Mary open her eyes. She could see the top of Florence’s head hovering between her legs. Something made her sigh with pure pleasure. Something soft and wet started to hit just the right spot with ceaseless constancy. An unknown commotion built and started to resonate somewhere deep inside her, with an intensity that left her afraid… but she trusted Florence and she was glad that she had for moments later she felt incredible; incredible enough to scream out Lady Gorham’s name into the night.

Mary knew what had just happened, and that it was a sin. “How could something so beautiful ever be a sin?” Florence sighed as she pulled the heavy covers over both of them.

“But what about the clergymen?”

“They’ll have to fight their way past me to get to you, my girl,” Lady Gorham said. Mary laughed softly against her Mistress’ body.

“You would never fight clergymen, would you, Miss?”

“Hmmm,” Florence murmured. “For you, Mary, you know I think I would.” Mary snuggled in happy contentment against Florence, tucking her head into the nook of her shoulder, and then further in beneath Florence’s chin.

She fell asleep with post-orgasmic warmth combining with the warmth of having her body pressed against another for the first time in her life.


Mary was surprised to find that Florence had left her slumbering in the bed chambers. She rolled her face into the dent in the pillow, breathed deeply and smiled. What a wonderful life this was! Every night for over six months Mary had shared her Mistress’ bed. It had been a particularly passionate night. Three times the women had woken one another and each time a sordid session of Sapphic sex had followed. Mary clutched the bed sheets and shamelessly dropped her hand down to where a dull ache was nagging somewhere between her legs.

Mary well knew how to satisfy the ache. It was if a dam had been breached and her body was demanding more and more pleasure – the things she had done with Lady Florence filled her mind as she rubbed her way to yet another crushing release.

There was a light knock at the door. “Flo? Is that you?” Mary whispered. Mary gasped as the door swung open and pulled the sheets up tightly around herself as the figure stepped forward.


As Mary hid her body from view, Lady Gorham was busy demanding that several bodies reveal themselves down in the milking shed. As tits and tackle exposed themselves to the camera, Lady Gorham smiled, once again enjoying being at the beating heart of a pornographic empire.

In a time when erotic photography was exploring the boundaries of what was possible, both technically and morally, Lady Gorham had inherited an industry which had supplied all levels of eroticism from a flash of an ankle through to violence which turned her stomach. Having quite literally taken the reigns from her husband, Lady Florence had immediately applied her own set of morals to the publications produced under her roof and dropped all the sado-masochistic material. “There’ll be no flogging or flagellation here!” she declared.

The declaration had caused outrage in the pornographic underworld. However, Lady Gorham had in mind new lines to replace the original ‘mucky magazines’ - and a new audience to sell them to. Investment in new technology, in the form of several Madox dry plate cameras, had led to better quality, but more importantly, it had enabled vast quantities of pictures to be quickly produced which had then been shipped out from the workshop.

To accompany the technological revolution, Lady Gorham had instigated a logistical revolution: she was serving her pictures via Royal Mail’s envelopes to tens of thousands of happy patrons – and this was the third part of Florence’s revolution - her consumers were women and as production was stepped up once again, and costs were further reduced, any excess pictures were unloaded onto the grateful lower classes.

Florence had taken her husband’s pornography and applied a woman’s touch: she had insisted that each sequence of pictures told a story, made humorous by both the situation and the expressions of the protagonists. Popular ‘story lines’ had included The Clerical Error, Caught Out and Her Bathing Time.

The studio, the equipment and the supply chain were in place; all Florence needed were models.

Florence watched as Catharine slipped her costume into place: she’d had no problem in finding young women willing to meet her requirements. When a woman was gravitating towards outright prostitution, anything to escape the clutches of London’s whorehouses was grasped with both hands – even if it was a pair of tits cocks. “After all,” Lady Gorham explained, “it’s better to be in the illustrations in the pamphlets used to revive the jaded appetites of the brothel’s clients, rather than serving them.”

Speaking of grasping hands. Lady Gorham surveyed the set for The Milk Maid Milks, and gave a grunt of satisfaction. Catharine was perhaps the most popular of her girls, both with the rest of the household and with the punters. She had a star quality which the Madox faithfully captured one filthy frame at a time. Florence watched as Catharine feigned shock as two lusty lads appear by her side and her hands were re-employed - from milking a cow to milking a pair of particularly turgid cocks.

As Catharine took each cock into her mouth in turn, her face cycled through a series of expressions from shock to delight with her mouth open, closed and cheeks hollowed. Lady Gorham knew that there was nothing that could be improved and she found her mind wandering. Mary. Lady Gorham wondered if the younger woman had arisen… and if she hadn’t perhaps it would be pleasant to join her young lover in bed.

Alice arrived in a breathless flap, shaking Lady Gorham from her pleasant reverie. “What is it, girl?”

“Lady Gorham…”


“Lord Teignmouth.”

“Here?” Alice nodded furiously.

“Yes, Miss.”


“Good Lord!” Flo exclaimed as she hurried into the drawing room to find Lord Teignmouth turning sharply behind the door. Her transformation was almost instantaneous. “I mean, my Lord,” Lady Gorham murmured, offering her hand.

“Charles, please, I insist.”

“Charles,” Florence, replied coquettishly.

“Lady Gorham, I trust I am not intruding.”

“Far from it, Charles. You are always most welcome at my humble abode. You received my contribution to your cause?”

“We, the Society, have been in receipt of your… extremely generous contribution.” Lord Teignmouth bowed graciously.

“It is a worthy cause, Charles. A very worthy cause. You are fighting the very corruption of society itself.”

“Indeed, indeed. Lady Gorham I am here on official business. I am here on official business…. exploring a line of enquiry.”

“Charles, you are rambling!”

“It is a somewhat indelicate matter.”

“Out with it Charles! I insist!”

“Lady Gorham, the rising tide of immorality has been known to taint… even the most upstanding members of society. It has been my misfortune to come into possession of a particularly debauched periodical.”


“I’m afraid that one of the girls in your employment has been… recognised.”

“One of my girls? Which one?”

“She goes by the name of ah ‘Annie’, although I wouldn’t expect her to be generally known by that name. Most of the girls involved have an… well a trade name as such.”

Lady Gorham frowned. “Well, if that isn’t her real name, how am I to help you in finding her? Have you got a picture?”

Teignmouth started to glow, the heat rising from below his neckline until it broke out as a sweat on his brow. He reached into his breast pocket and proceeded to mop every inch of exposed skin. “I do have a picture… several pictures in fact, but they are a very indelicate nature. I would hesitate to show them to a Lady of your delicate character for fear that it might permanently scar her.”

“Come, come, Charles. I am a married woman of some years – I am sure that there is nothing I haven’t seen before.” Lady Gorham fluttered prettily, which made the heat radiating from Lord Teignmouth multiply tenfold.

“Lady Gorham, aside from any indelicacy, it would be illegal for me to show you any of the morally-polluting pictures.”

“How did you come into possession of such offensive material?”

“It was being sold as art but the material is clearly intended as pornography. The pictures are of a nature calculated to shock the common feelings of decency in any well-regulated mind.”

“Charles,” Lady Gorham said, with added steel to her voice. “Show me the pictures. I demand it!” She stamped her foot for emphasis and took satisfaction as Teignmouth cringed. Charles took out an envelope and carefully extracted the contents.

“I must warn you…”

“Oh do be quiet, Charles. I am a woman of the world. Lord Gorham is a sensitive but demanding lover – when he’s here - and there can’t be much that we haven’t done together and with others.” Lord Teignmouth gasped at the revelation and Lady Gorham took the opportunity to snatch the pictures from his fingers.

“My, my my,” Lady Florence muttered. “Yes indeed, that is Annie – one of my girls.”

“You don’t seem… surprised, or indeed affected.” Lord Teignmouth shifted uncomfortably. He’d never seen a Lady looking at such filth before and it affected him strongly; gave him improper urges.

“I already knew of Annie’s past – she confessed to me in some detail what she had done before she joined us here.” And I’m more than aware of everything she has done since, Flo thought to herself. “It was one of the major reasons why I invited her to join our staff. Her life was on a downward spiral and I saw it as my duty to arrest that fall.”

“Admirable. It is fortunate for the girl that you were able to prevent anyone from taking further advantage.” Annie is a star and we are both happy to take advantage of that fact.

“Are you feeling… unwell?” Lady Gorham’s eye line dropped significantly to the front of Charles’ bulging breeches.

“My, ah, physical response is beyond my control. However, I use pornography such as this to test my resistance to sexual temptation.” Lady Gorham wanted to laugh but instead managed to hide her giggles by nodding sombrely. “This material is the basest of escapist pursuits, an avenue to forbidden pleasure and sin – to which I am immune.”

“Immune, you say? Are you telling me that you choose not to release your sexual tension… at all?” Charles’ eyes went wide at Lady Gorham’s enquiry as to his masturbatory habits. “It takes a strong man to resist the temptations of Holywell Street.”

“Speak not of that filthy place, the very words sully your innocent lips. Never have I seen such sin crammed into one location – under the pretence of medical manuals.” Lady Gorham nodded.

“Yes, indeed.” A thought occurred to Lady Gorham. Tease of torture? Perhaps Lord Teignmouth would enjoy a more corporeal test of his resolve. “My dear Charles, forgive me, I am forgetting my manners. Would you care for afternoon tea?” Lady Gorham rang the bell and a very flustered Mary scuttled into the room followed so closely by George that Flo had no doubt whatsoever that George had been touching Mary inappropriately right up to the moment that the door had opened.

Mary was flushed and flustered as she bowed and although she had done up the frontage of her costume, it did little to conceal her breasts - her attire was far from conventional fashion for a maid. Flo recognised it as one of the titillating costumes from Maid to Pleasure, an upcoming storyline and did her best to hide her amusement as Mary and George fought to recover their composure in Lord Teignmouth’s unexpected presence.

Mary’s legs were bare but she could do nothing as she stood with her heaving bosom threatening to escape at any moment. It was undoubtedly the shortest skirt Lord Teignmouth had ever seen and Flo waited until he took his handkerchief and moped at his brow once again. His eyes were boggling and Flo imagined that his straining breeches were being taken to the very brink of failure.

“Please do not judge poor Mary by her current attire. I had her doing the most filthy of jobs for me.” Flo scowled playfully at George. “A job which was most unpleasant, but to which she no doubt threw herself into wholeheartedly.” Flo turned to Mary. “Afternoon tea for three, if you will, Mary.”

“Yes, Miss,” Mary said, and all four male eyes were focused on the exposed part of her buttocks as she turned and left the room. Lady Gorham’s eyes never left Lord Teignmouth. His discomfort at the pornography had been plain. His desire for Mary was equally evident.

“She is an asset.” Flo let her mouth linger on the first syllable. “Mary is a fine looking girl is she not, Lord Teignmouth?”

“Indeed she is.” Lord Teignmouth’s tongue licked dry lips. “May I enquire as to her… situation?”

“In what regard?”

“Is she married?” Lady Gorham had difficulty in not taking a backward step at the directness of Lord Teignmouth’s question.

“My goodness, no,” Flo laughed. “Mary is as far from married as it is possible to be.” Lady Gorham sensed that she should emphasize that Mary was not one of her fallen girls – at least she hadn’t been when she had arrived. “Such an innocent girl,” she added.


“In the ways of the world,” Lady Gorham fixed Lord Teignmouth with an intense gaze, “and in particular in the ways of men. Is that not so, George?”

“What? Yes, I should imagine she is.” From the disturbed lines of George’s breeches, Florence had a good idea what George had been imaging.

“Perhaps if I might have a private word with Charles?” Lady Gorham said sternly. It wasn’t a question and George dismissed himself, no doubt eager to return to the ample attractions of a particular maid.

“Charles, might I be so bold as to suggest that you have an… interest in Mary?”

“She is a winsome young woman.”

“And hard-working and…” Flo caught herself before she added ‘intelligent’. It didn’t do well to advertise a young woman as being able to run mental rings around a man. She’s also enterprising, shrewd, manipulative and conniving – after all, I’ve taught her everything I know. Florence smiled at the thought. “She’d do well for you,” Florence added, and me.

Lady Gorham guided Charles to the window seat and took up her crochet to allow Charles to wrestle with his thoughts and his conscience alone. Only when a fully-clothed Mary returned with afternoon tea did Charles stir.

“M’lady, Sir.” Mary was glowing as she curtsied and backed away.

“She appears to be in fine physical health,” Lord Teignmouth murmured as his eyes followed Mary’s retreating form.

“And she is from a fine country family,” Florence added. Could it be so easy to pair Lord Teignmouth with Mary? Lady Gorham was equally lost in thought. Yes – Mary and Lord Teignmouth would be a useful union on many levels.


“I’m sorry, Charles?”

“Is Mary’s family landed?”

“No. Good honest estate workers. The backbone of Benjamin Oliver’s estate by all accounts.”

“Nothing wrong with hard grafters,” Charles opined, before sinking back into his thoughts.

Lady Florence continued working through the consequences of a union between Mary and Charles. It would be well to keep Mary away from George; now that he had had a taste, it was plain that he had gone silly over the girl - he would never leave her alone. Mary had always been a good worker, but her efforts would surely suffer with George clawing at her every chance he had. And Lady Florence wanted to keep George’s energies for herself – with her husband away, it was as well to have the undivided attention of a man on tap.

And for Mary herself. Marrying Lord Teignmouth - a rich protector was the best Mary could hope for in life. It would instantly elevate her into high society, a society in which Mary would do well. Mary would move in the same circles as Lady Florence… and Florence was sure that they would be able to engineer opportunities such that they would be able to move in the same bed on occasion. Yes. Flo knew that Mary would be able to handle herself in a most favourable fashion, both in society in general and in further guiding the efforts of Lord Teignmouth. She determined to make it so.


The next time Lord Teignmouth visited Lady Gorham, it was with Lady Mary Teignmouth on his arm.

“A walk in the gardens?” Lady Florence suggested as her guests were guided to the pergola on the lower terrace. “The walled gardens are quite magnificent.”

“I should love to see the gardens again,” Lady Mary gushed excitedly, before remembering her manners and flushing prettily.

“We have much to catch-up on. George, please take care of Charles. We shall be back before tea.” George frowned at the dismissal without once taking his eyes from the gorgeous creature who had taken Lady Florence’s arm. The sound of giggling carried over the high hedges as the two women disappeared from view.

“Croquet?” George asked, as he turned back from the fading musicality of the ladies’ laughter. “We have a new set of mallets and the lawn on the southern terrace has just been cut.”


“I was hoping that I might return for another set of photographs,” Mary confided. Lady Gorham’s eyes went wide.

“Aren't you afraid that he'll recognise your bottom?”

“No,” Mary giggled. “We only ever make love in the dark, under the covers - in the missionary position. Charles would no sooner recognise my bottom than any other girl’s.” Florence frowned, thinking back to the lecherous look Charles had given Mary’s bottom when he had first laid eyes on his future wife.

Mistaking Florence’s recollection for a look of concern, Mary felt the need to defend her new husband. “He is a kind, sensitive and generous lover.”


“Oh, yes Miss!” Lady Teignmouth said, forgetting her position. “He is the only other person to make me... feel the way you did, Miss.”

“He makes you orgasm?”

“Oh yes, Miss. He does that,” Mary said, flushing furiously. “He does that a lot. And,” Lady Mary added, looking all around, “this is an absolute secret?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’ve found Charles’ collection of pornography.”

“His what?” Florence squealed.

“His private collection. He had it hidden away as part of his ‘Anthropological Studies’. When I found it, he said that he had to keep it as part of his work, for prosecutions and the like but we’ve looked at it together.” Mary paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “It had proved to be… quite instructive. Flo, we’ve acted out all manner of depravities.” The women clutched at each other helplessly.

Lady Florence’s curls bounced in the sunshine as she shook her head. "Well I never, Charles," she muttered. "Truly, I didn't think you had it in you."

“So you’re happy, with Charles, I mean?” Lady Florence asked.

“Deliriously.” Lady Florence felt Mary’s mood change to something more serious. “But there are some things… that only another woman can satisfy.” Mary kissed Florence on the lips. It was a deep and passionate kiss, which spoke of lust and desire, as far away from the meek and nervous girl who had so reluctantly taken up employment with Lady Florence but two years ago. Florence let Mary take the lead, let her guide her down onto the grass as she hungrily fed on her lips even as her hands explored a body which she had missed more than words could say.

“Mary, if Charles is looking for some vice to suppress, he won’t have to look very far this afternoon.” Mary giggled as she trapped Flo between her legs.

“If I was looking for vice,” Mary said playfully, as she pulled on the fastenings of Lady Florence’s corset, “I’d start by looking in here.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2015 Abigail Thornton. All Rights Reserved.

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