Afternoon Tea With Lady Birchfield
By Rat Tails
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Copyright 2013 by Rat Tails, all rights reserved
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* * * *
This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
* * * * *
Elizabeth
was thrilled. It was the year 1809, summertime in the Cotswolds, and
she had just
received an invitation for afternoon tea with Lady Birchfield. Within a
select,
secret circle the Baroness was renowned for her four o’clock teas which
were at
total odds with all things Victorian. You see, she maintained a stable
of boys
that would be the source of entertainment for the ladies, first
communal and
then private, following tea. The boys were referred to as the
Baroness’s
slave-boys.
Elizabeth’s
invitation included a note that her twin girls, age 9, were included.
She
smiled. They were her insurance policy for invitation repeats as they
had
developed a particular knack for tantalizing and tormenting boys.
Having
participated for over a year now, they had no qualms about doing that
to boys
older or younger than them. Indeed, Sabrina and Simmy had developed the
art to
the point now where they engaged in their devilish deeds as much for
their own
amusement as for her parent’s and parent’s friends. Long gone was their
tentativeness and hesitation. Now it was simply fun and exciting.
The
morning broke on the cloudy side but by afternoon the clouds have given
way to
brilliant sunshine. Elizabeth selected a skirt and jacket and
fashionable hat
for the occasion since the invitation stated “undress,” meaning casual.
No
longer were brocades, lace and periwigs worn; no one wanted to appear
like one
of the nobles whom the French had so rudely brought to an end; cut off,
you
might say.
Her
carriage was brought to a halt by two footmen at the entrance to the
manor who
had their hands full at the moment with all of the invitees seemingly
having
arrived at much the same time. Moreover, three had brought their dogs
for
exercise on the estate. There was a collie, two Dalmatians and three
foxhounds,
all ready for a good romp outside while rumps were being attended to
inside.
Carrying
a parasol Elizabeth descended along with the twins who were wearing
matching
box-plaided white flocks that extended to the neck. She exchanged
pleasantries
with a couple of other ladies and their children as they were led
through a
hall and back again into the sunlight on the large back terrace. There
stood
their hostess who had just finished welcoming another invitee.
“Don’t
you look ravishing this afternoon, Elizabeth; and the twins; as ever, I
can’t
tell them apart.
“I
am Sabrina, my lady.”
“I
am Simmy, my lady.”
“I
could put a ribbon on for identification, Lady Birchfield.”
“And
spoil the fun? No, let’s keep that a mystery. Don’t you love
mysteries?”
“As
you wish.”
“I
hope they are just as devilish as they were the last time. Though we
shall be
beating the devil out of the boys this afternoon, we shan’t want that
to happen
to Sabrina and Simmy. No, we want to devil to grow and fester in our
young
twins here.”
“That
will require little effort,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh. “The manor
has
been the devil’s playground and school for these two.”
“Excellent.”
Elizabeth
moved along as the hostess welcomed her next guest.
“Ah,
it’s the twins,” said another lady wearing a hug, colorful, broad rimed
hat. “Going
to have some fun with the boys today?”
“Yes
ma’am,” answered Simmy.
“Sucking
some cock or whipping ‘um?
“I’ll
let Sabrina do the sucking. I like to cane them. I like to see them
cry,
especially the big ones.”
“You’ll
do whatever is asked of you, young lady,” admonished Elizabeth.
“Yes
mother.”
As
the ladies milled about on the elevated terrace a roving servant
offered up
glasses of Champaign and grapes. All accepted. The children were given
fruit
juice. Then a horn sounded out on the landscape which announced the
beginning
of entertainment. A few ladies took a seat at one of the many round
tables, but
most remained standing.
A
procession came into view from the far left led by a bare-chest boy of
about 12
wearing a Roman helmet and carrying the brass horn that had just
sounded. Again
he blew his horn. Behind him came a line of eight girl-pulled chariots,
whipped
along by boy riders. Behind them were three drummer boys who were
beating out a
marching cadence.
The
pony-girls were in their mid-teens while the boys were in their early
teens. They
all were members of the families of farmers that worked the land for
the
Baroness. You see, one of the duties of these families, for the
privilege of
living on and working the land, was to have to offer up their children
at the
pleasure of Lady Birchfield for her entertainment and the entertainment
of her
guests. This had been going on for years and was engrained in their
culture.
The
chariots were little more than a seat sat upon a light weight frame
supported
by two light weight wheels. In other words, they were a bit like light
weight
buggies or rickshaws. The pony-girls were all wearing a Roman helmet
with eye
shields that restricted their view to just what lay directly ahead. A
tall
feather extended upwardly from the helmet. Other than that they only
wore a
mini-skirt and boots which left their chests and backs available for
the dog
whips carried by the boy riders.
Each
girl pulled her “chariot” by griping two long poles that straddled
them. They
were guided and halted by a wood bit gripped firmly in their teeth of a
harness
controlled by the boy drivers. The boys wore headbands that supported
plumage
of a color that matched that of his pony. Their chests, backs and legs
were
also bare, save for a leather pouch for their privates. They too wore
boots.
The
dog whips had a stiff handle to which a leather snapper was attached.
As the
procession came well into view the boy drivers were cracking their
whips over
their heads and over the heads of their girl ponies. Occasionally one
would
strike the back of his pony if she was lagging behind. Upon being
struck the
tendency was for the girl to arch her back and through her head back.
Often
then the boy driver would yank her head from side to side with the
reigns to
show his total control and then bend it back before releasing it. A red
mark
would quickly appear where the snapper had struck, whether on her back
or side
and breast or on her ass as it jogged from side to side under the
obvious
strain in pulling the boy riding cart.
The
led boy sounded his horn again and the procession sprang into a quick
time run
to the quickened cadence set by the three drummer boys. Now the boy
riders were
snapping their dog whips more often and here whipping their pony’s
naked bodies
more often. As they came closer the sound of the whips increased.
This
was a sight to behold for the ladies up on the elevated patio as they
watched
the mostly 15 and 16 year old girls now running with their legs
straining,
their noses flared open and their mouths gasping for more air while the
wood
bits restricted that effort. Their breasts were swaying from side to
side and
their feathers flying about in the quick run. Now the boys were using
their
reigns more rigorously in pulling their pony’s heads from side to side
and
backwards. The whole procession was a frenzy of colorful and exciting
boy-girl
action to the percussion music of the drums and the whips as they
snapped and
popped. Lady Birchfield was pleased as she saw the rap attention that
her guest
were displaying for indeed, it was a truly captivating moment.
The
procession came to a halt directly in front of the patio. Upon the call
of a
drum roll the charioteers turned to face the patio and Lady Birchfield.
The led
boy made a deep bow with his horn in hand.
Everyone
up on the patio clapped their hands as they watched the girls standing
now
before them in their Romanesque attire panting heavily and gasping for
air as
sweat poured from their bodies. The boys bowed in accepting the
applause, then
descended and stood before them. In almost a military style they swung
their
dog whips over their heads and snapped them - crack-crack-crack - and
then made
another deep bow. The girl-ponies were ignored as if they were just
mere
animals at work.
“Well
done,” said Lady Birchfield. “Yes, very well done, indeed charioteers.
Bring
forth water as I know they must be thirsty under all the strain that a
quick
step run entails.”
Two
servants then made their way to the procession with small buckets of
cool
water. They made their way down the line but to the shock of the
girl-ponies
the cool and refreshing water was only served up to the young boys. A
ladle
would be dipped into the bucket and then the boy would pour it down his
throat
and splash some on his face directly in front of his pony. “Oooo –
that’s
good,” one proclaimed as the girl-pony watched with her bit still in
her mouth.
Another asked if his girl-pony wanted some. When she nodded vigorously
yes, he
slowly poured it onto the grass and laughed as he wiped excess water
off his
lips. When the guests saw all this they laughed and giggled. That Lady
Birchfield: Always so devilish clever and original and with her acts
apparently
so well rehearsed. She should take her acts to Buckingham Palace!
Lady
Birchfield looked over the entertainment to see that the disappointed
girls had
now at least regained their breath if not having unquenched their
thirst. Sweat
continued to glisten. Most bore bright red spots where the dog-whips
had bit on
their backs and breasts. The sweat made these stand out quite vividly.
“Prepare
for the race!” she said to the horn boy who promptly gave blew out
three quick
blasts. Once again the pony-girls were to become beasts of burden.
As
the charioteers made their way to the starting post a butler made his
rounds of
the invitees with eight cards with eight different colors that matched
the
eight different colors of the plumage worn by the girl-ponies and their
drivers. Now the guests realized that the number of chariots matched
the number
of invites. The butler first served those standing. The ladies would
remember
those that had made an earlier impression or would now look out at the
field
and select a card. Of course the choice narrowed as each card left the
tray.
The
“track” was a miniature version to that of a modern race track, albeit
it was
grass. The starting post was to their right while the finishing post
was
directly in front. The charioteers were now lined up two abreast. Two
would
race and then two more would as the two in front reached the half-way
post. Winners
would then form a winners’ pool and the losers a losers’ pool. The four
winners
of the first round would then race, two by two, and then a final race
of the
remaining two to determine the champion.
Seeing
all in readiness for the first two, with the outside chariot set ahead
slightly, the horn boy raised his horn high above his head and waited.
Finally
Lady Birchfield raised her hand high above her hand, held it, and then
dropped
it. With that the horn boy gave a short blast and the first two made
ready. He
then gave one long blast and they were off, bright red versus bright
yellow.
“GO
BITCH,” shouted the boy with red plumage as he gave a sharp crack on
his
girl-pony’s back. It was hard to tell if that had any positive effect
on her
performance since she already was highly motivated to win and not face
the
consequences of losing. But the boys didn’t seem to appreciate that.
The
consequences for losing were just as dire for them and they simply had
to doing
something. With the reigns in one hand and the dog whip in their other,
the
whip became their main outlet. Their whips staying continuously busy
cracking
the air or cracking the backs of their ponies bringing red blotches to
her
skin.
“THE’RE
GETTING AHEAD, BITCH,” screamed the charioteer in yellow. He cracked
his
snapper three times on the back of his pony. Then he leaned forward and
began
driving his whip snapped around the girl’s right side bringing the tip
onto her
right breast and then doing the same on her left with a backhand stroke.
“That’s
slowing me down! Stop it or we’ll lose.”
“FUCK
YOU; FUCK THAT!” CRACK CRACK CRACK. The boy wasn’t very smart.
The
pony-girl turned her head almost around to see her stupid driver. The
eye
shields on her helmet however caused her to become disorientated and
she
stumbled to the grass, flipping over the cart behind her.
They
both lay sprawled as they watch their opponent left them behind – and
then
further behind. As they stood they watched the red charioteer raise and
frail
his whip about in victory as he slowed his pony-girl down into a
comfortable
trot.
In
the fall one wheel had almost come off. As the boy tried to move the
cart the
wheel wobbled so much as to make it un-ride able. When the following
contestants passed they found the yellow team in trod ding defeat,
walking off
the balance of the track with the boy pulling his pony-girl by the
reigns and
the bit in her mouth. Had the following contestants had the time to
gawk, they would
have seen the girl-pony with an abundance of red marks on her sweating
back and
breasts and strips on her sides as she pulled the cart with one wheel
wobbling.
This was to her rear. To her front was her charioteer pulling and
yanking on
the reigns which caused her head to jut forward as her head harness and
bit
were being angrily pulled and jerked about by her boy who was now
crying in
their clear defeat. He had a vivid idea of just what now lay ahead for
him and
his pony as the one probably destined to come in dead last.
- - - -
- - - - - - - - -
The
Champion of the day
was the purple team that was composed of a stout, athletic girl of16
and a boy
of 13. After unbuckling her harness they climbed the few stone steps up
to the
patio in triumph where Lady Birchfield stood waited. Once they were
before her
she had kneel and kiss her ring while still wearing their headgear and
purple
plumage. After asking their names she proclaimed them champions by
name, placed
a flower reef about the girl’s neck and awarded the boy two silver
coins to the
applause of all those on the patio. Recognition of the guest who had
drawn the
purple card followed. She was called forth to award her team members
with a
kiss. On her own she too gave each a token coin. Lady Birchfield then
had a
large and most beautiful flower arrangement presented to her that
included a
model of her team, complete with purple plumage.
The
winning team was
then whisked away sitting side by side on their cart pulled by the team
that
had come in second, sans the harnesses with bits and the dog whips. The
winning
team was dismissed for the day, while the other had to return to be
available
for afternoon debauchery. They were however exempted from the
punishments that
were now to follow for the losers.
Following
that the two other teams that had survived the first round were herded
up onto
the patio. “Good effort,” said Lady Birchfield, but not good enough,
I’m
afraid. Today were are featuring bamboo. It’s our specialty of the day,
you
might say.”
With
that they were ordered to remove their skirts. Following that the two
boys and
two girls stood before the ladies naked from their helmets with plumage
down to
their boots for the guests to inspect at their pleasure. And that the
ladies
did; first to their front and then to their rear. Some would speak to
them,
lift their shy faces and fondle. Where the two ladies whose card
matched up
with a team passed, the boy and girl received a good scolding and
repeated
slaps on their faces. One such lady was accompanied by a small girl who
grabbed
and twisted the boy’s balls until he screamed out. The other ladies
laughed. The
party was moving to a new phase of delighted debauchery.
Punishments
followed, administered by bamboo canes that had been soaked in a salty
brim. First
the boy member of the chariot team gave 12 strokes to his girl-pony
after being
warned to hit as hard as he possibly could. This called for him to run
up and
swing the wet bamboo as hard as he could onto his girl-pony’s ass as
she was
bent over a short stone wall. Their screams were muffled by the wood
bits that
still remained in place, tied tautly behind their necks. This was
followed by
the girl switching places with the boy, a gag-ball being inserted into
his
mouth, and them giving him the same – in spades - since she was older
and
stronger. This was concluded by a retreat of the two teams to a holding
pen
where they were scrubbed down and given a clothes change.
Then
it was time to attend to the four teams that had lost the first round.
In
similar manner they had to drop their skirts for inspection. This was
again
followed by the boys administrating a sound birching to their girl-pony
with an
almost four foot long birch rod that had been soaked overnight in the
brim and
which had the last foot sliced into four ragged stems. The number
strokes given
matched the girl’s age. This was followed by the girl-pony doing the
same to
her boy-charioteer with her ass still a blazing inferno. The older
girls now
had their chance at revenge for all the somewhat younger boys had
inflicted on
them during the race and the birching that followed. Most of them swung
with
two hands as hard as they could into the lily white, virgin asses of
the boys. Several
got so worked up in the process that they went beyond the allotted
number of
strokes, which was less than they had received due to their being of a
younger
age. The birch had to be wrenched from their hands with their being in
such a
state of raging revenge.
Following
this three of the teams were sent to the holding pod for washing. The
yellow
team – the only that had stumbled at first, to come in last – was held
back. Their
fully birched asses were then caned by Lady Birchfield herself with a
bamboo
cane with sliced ends. At the conclusion of this Lady Birchfield was
given a
polite applause by the invitees. “I have to remain in good shape, you
know. This
is effective in preventing the upper arms from becoming flabby, you
know.” Hearing
that, a couple of ladies felt their clothed upper arms for any sign of
sagging.
The yellow team was then left tied with their arms and legs
outstretched for
all to view, still wearing their boots and helmets with yellow plumage.
They
were to remain there for a half-hour, open to body inspection and
taunting by
those having an interest in such.
- - - -
- - - - - - -
As
clouds began to appear the guests were invited inside. It was tea time.
A
servant stood at the ready behind a table with freshly brewed tea.
Snacks were
also there which consisted of finger sandwiches with watercress,
cucumber and
smoked salmon with lemon. With a nod to the summer season, mint was
also added,
as a refreshing complement. After all, they had watches all those boys
and
girls sweating in the races. From the table the ladies made their way
to love
seats with small end table on which to place their tea cups and saucers.
Lady
Birchfield left the women to their gossiping and commenting on the now
finished
races for some twenty minutes. They she announced that the indoors
entertainment was now to start. It, she explained, would consist of
more
matches, this time just amongst boys who had passed puberty. These
matches
would be in the form of fencing duels. Once again punishments would
follow with
the losers bearing the greater degree of punishment.
The
ladies started chatting like a flock of chickens. From standing out on
the
patio sipping Champagne to now sitting indoors taking tea was a fine
scenario
of entertainment. Leave it to Lady Birchfield, a royal hostess and
entertainment producer.
“Ladies;
may I have your attention, please,” said the Housekeeper from her
stance on the
third step of an impressive stairway on the other side of the room. “I
present
to you the fencers!”
From
the top of the staircase came the first fencer. He was a 16 year old
boy
wearing a blue headband from the rear of which a large blue feather
jutted
skyward. He also wore a blue protective bib, an eye shield, and flat
blue
slippers. The only thing else he was wearing, or rather sporting, was a
blue
ribbon over his pubic hairs that was tied to a loop about his privates
from
which a small bell was suspended that sounded with each step he took in
descending
the staircase. He carried a foil with a damp blue dyed small sponge on
its tip.
After
he had reached to the floor he came forward and gave a formal salute
with his
foil standing fully erect as he announced his name, followed by an “at
your
service,” before giving a deep bow. He did this to each of the two
ladies
seated on each of the love seats before stepping back to begin a line
in front
of them running right to left.
The
ladies stopped sipping their tea, so enthralled they were with the boy,
his
presentation and his attire. It was a heart stopped when he stood
before them
with a prolonged salute with his blue headband and feather, blue bib,
blue
slippers with the crowning touch being the blue ribbon just above his
16 year
old cock and the little bell swaying below his balls and emitting a
subdued
ting ting ting.
The
salute was the key for the next boy to begin descending the staircase.
One by
one, sixteen boys in all, made their way down the staircase to present
themselves. All were dressed identically to form a symphony in blue to
the tune
of sixteen little bells a clacking. The more endowed one provoked large
smiles
and quiet comments. As they strutted away from the ladies to join the
line, it
was apparent that none of them had participated in the earlier races.
None of
their behinds were yet marked.
Once
the boys were all lined up, there was a short lull in the proceedings.
During
this time the children of the guest were released to do inspections.
Sabrina
and Simmy eagerly went over and started down the line examining the
cocks and
balls of the fencers who stood somewhat at attention as the twins
twisted and
turned their privates while joking with each other about nuances found
in each
and, of course, their sizes. Occasionally they would try to jerk one to
see if
they could get it to go hard. A 14 year old did in fact go hard prior
to their
reaching him. Both girls converged on him and on his hard pecker. Each
in turn
would give it a slap and say “down boy, down,” to no avail.
A
4 year old boy joined in the play. He ran up and down the line slapping
each
cock along the way while yelling out childish gibberish until him
mother put a
stop to that when he started to untie the blue bows over their cocks.
“Ladies,”
said Lady Birchfield, “the format for the fencing duels will match that
of the
early races. Each duel will be won by a touché which will result in a
blue mark
appearing on the body of the loser. Following the matches, punishments
will be
again metered in measures matching the degree of success, or rather
lack
thereof, made by the fencers. Afterwards all of you may retire to our
private
chambers with one or two boys of your choice.
The
order of selection will now be established by lot. Enjoy! And remember
that a
gong will be sounded at seven o’clock so that those still remaining in
private
may know that the tea party is officially concluded and that your
carriage
awaits. Oh, and before I forget, you will find an array of ‘toys’
provided in
your chamber. Should you wish anything else, or perhaps run through
your supply
of bamboo, – ha ha – just ask the Housekeeper. We do have a plentiful
stock on
hand today.”
And
so the duels began in the classic manner. One by one two contestants
would have
a go at it. They proved to be surprisingly short lived for it didn’t
take much
time before one would call out “touché” and point to a blue smug
somewhere on
the body of his opponent where the sponge tip had struck. The quarter
finals
were soon dispensed with and followed promptly by the semifinals.
Following
that the winner was proclaimed – a 17 year old, rather short but swift
and
dexterities young man. Lady Birchfield proclaimed him champion and
awarded him
a silver coin and a bottle of Champaign for his parents. The runner-up
was
thereupon awarded three strokes of the bamboo, administered by the
champion.
As
explained earlier, this day bamboo was in vogue for the Lady
Birchfield. There
must have been two dozen of them soaking in vats of concentrated brim.
Their
ends had been sliced in order to slice the losing fencers’ asses. It
wasn’t
enough that they just struck lines of fire; no they also had to pinch
and bit;
scratch and maw. Only the third and fourth fencers who had survived the
first
round were spared the sliced-end sticks of bamboo. They also were
spared the
bugging that following the beatings.
One
by one a boy would be brought to a bench that had been set center stage
for
their beating. One side of the bench had an upright structure with
three
horizontal slots, much like a gun rack. Once the boy was standing in
front of
it a pin-rod would be set in the slot that fit his height. The
cylindrical
pin-rod was just that – a long rod covered by a field of small pins
that
projected outwardly. Were one to make body contact the pins would, of
course,
prick them. Worse however was the fact that straight on and straight
off
contact was unlikely. There would usually be some degree of sideways
movement
which would cause the pins to scratch. Simply said, one did not want to
make
skin contact with the pin-rod anymore than one would with an agitated
porcupine.
Once
the pin-rod was seated in the appropriate slot the boy had to lean over
it and
put his elbows flush upon the bench. His hands were placed in stocks on
the far
side of the bench. A horse bit from the earlier races was then placed
in his
mouth and tied off behind him to the right and left of his arched back.
They
were now getting a taste of their own medicine when they had pulled
back on the
reigns during the race. Finally the children were released to torment
them as
they were beaten.
Two
boys at a time were made to draw a bamboo out of the brim and take up
beating
positions. They knew of course that giving anything but their best
efforts
would be met with dire consequences. This had the effect of each boy
trying to
outdo his partner for added insurance.
One
by one the boys were punished for being losers. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
SPLAT. the
wet, split-ended bamboos rained down on their asses. Almost at once the
boy
victim would scream, but the bit drawn tightly in his mouth muffled the
screams.
If
this was not enough, Lady Birchfield had also given the guests children
present
a short snake whip which they could use in whipping the boy’s back as
he was
suffering under the bamboo. Some used the little whip while others were
most
interested in yanking the reigns that held their heads up and back.
Where the
reigns interfered with the whipping, the children quickly learned to
bring the
middle of the whip onto the reigns whereupon the end would snap down on
the
back. They also slapped their faces, but that was rather restricted by
the
reigns. The smaller children seemed to like to pinch their noses and
spit. There
seemed to be an endless variety in their play.
Sabrina
and Simmy liked their snake whips. They were black and red and measured
just
some three and a half feet. They wielded them time and time again onto
the
backs and shoulders of the boy. Midway through they both would watch
the beater
boy as he began his swing and try to strike at the same time that the
bamboo
struck. That wasn’t the only game they had between them, to the delight
of Lady
Birchfield. Another one was spitting. While being beaten they would
spit in the
boy’s eyes, Sabrina taking the left one and Simmy the right. The boy
would of
course close them but then they would wait for the next stroke. Upon
getting
that his eyes would involuntarily spring wide open only to spitted on.
These
two were definitely destined for great things as their matured.
Each
time the bamboo would strike the boys buttocks he would be thrust
forward
towards the pin-rod. His mission thus became one of trying to push his
ass
backward towards his tormentor. For the ladies the scene became one of
watching
this back and forth rhythm as the bamboos struck again and again, all
while the
children continued their taunting and whipping, and the struggle with
the boy
as he tried to match a thrusting blow of the bamboo with a backwards
thrust of
his own to avoid the pin-rod. In this manner his ass would actually be
moving
towards the bamboo as it came screaming down it.
Each
beating continued until the Housekeeper judged that the boy had had
enough. Only
it wasn’t really quite over for then the boy was in for a buggering by
one or
both of his beaters. But it wasn’t a simple buggering. No, the pin-rod
made
sure of that. Each time his buggier would thrust the boy would have to
thrust
back to prevent contact. This effort however was not always successful.
Contact
would be made and his thighs scratched. And when it was successful, the
boy
being buggered would have to thrust himself onto his buggier.
In
one case the boy made contact with the pin-rod and before he could back
off and
was struck again in quick succession by the other beater-boy from the
other
side causing him to slide sideways on the pin-rod drawing blood. And
before he
knew it the original beater-boy had struck him again causing him to
slide back
on the pin-rod in the opposite direction thereby deepening the
scratches to his
thighs. Fortunately, each episode only lasted for a couple of minutes
or so. But
they were three minutes of living hell for the unfortunates.
“Ladies,
that concludes our public tea. For those interested you may proceed now
to the
private quarters with a boy or two of your choosing. It’s been a
delight to
have had you over once again, and I hope the same has proven true for
you. And
before I forget, in addition to the “toys” you will find in your room,
there
will also be an antiseptic brim that I suggest you apply to your
selection.”
Elizabeth
looked at the twins. She found herself now tired of children. She was
ready for
a private one on one with one of the boys.
She
sent the twins back outside and moved on to the line of boys with their
severely tarnished rears and in a few cases, scratched thighs. Her
drawn lot
entitled her to third choice. Though it would not have been her first
choice,
it was her second. She selected only one, one with the most pleading,
tear-stained eyes of brown.
She
smiled at the lad and then took his reigns in hand and led him up the
staircase. It was not until the horn sounded that she came back down to
gather
the twins and return to her carriage. When the housekeeper finally went
to the
private quarters that she had vacated, she found the lad quivering in a
corner
of the room in the fetal position. For him it had been quite a day to
remember;
for Elizabeth, too.
(The End)