FILLED By The Lusty Lords (Historical Smut With A Side Of Story) by Diana Quippley Page A
Authors: Diana Quippley
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Adult, Regency, Short Stories, first time, 19th century, hot, Victorian, menage, passion, explicit, discipline, Appreciation, taboo, naughty, Erotic Tale, Strict, Liquid Passion, dungeon, Inexperienced, Noblemen, Endowed, Exquisite Ball, Transgression, Bigger Things
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her
skirts. A proper dress required under skirts and fine undergarments, but she could
afford none, so Rose wore none.
As she smoothed
down her skirts, her hands traced the curves of her backside and the growing
heat between her legs. She felt the urge to lift her skirts again and feel the
master’s close cropped grass on her bare skin. She could touch herself and
bring out the higher thrills as she listened to the music of the royalty.
Rose had now gone
farther than she had dared before. It was by just a few steps and over one
wall, but it was a world beyond where she should rightfully be. Her father had
explained the difference between a palace and the lord’s house. She couldn’t
imagine anything grander than the house towering over her. He had explained
that both were royalty, but not the same. She still did not understand. Both
the distant king and Lord Ramsey held her life and her father’s life in their
hands. They traded them like trinkets and played with them as they wished.
Should she get caught, Lord Ramsey had the right to let fall his full wrath
upon her and her father by proxy.
She knew she should
go back in the same way she knew she should never be there in the first place,
but this was not a night for going back. Before she realized, her feet were
carrying her forward and she was standing in the light of a partially opened
exterior door. It was unguarded and she leaned inside.
***
***
Rose heard the
laughter that was high and shrill like the girls in the woods made. She
swallowed and felt the familiar tingles. She smelled the wax of candles and the
aroma of fine meats cooked in rich sauces. Her mouth watered.
She expected to
hear the music more clearly, but this close it was lost in the footfalls of the
dancers. In the flickering light of the hall, she imagined that the undulating
shadows were the dancers being twirled by the touch of grand lords being
commanded to move and perform under the fingers of the men.
She had to see for
herself.
Rose slipped inside
with her back to the doorframe to avoid disturbing the open door further. Her
breasts had grown over the years to a size that betrayed her stealth this
night. Her dress hung on the wood and pulled down and open in the front. Her
nipples found the air and the night cooled her sweat slicked flesh as her
bosoms spread out in their unexpected freedom. She gasped.
She looked into the
hallway and saw a shadow cross the wall from the grand ballroom at the far end.
From the shape of the legs and frame cast on the wall, she believed it was a
man passing just inside the archway. She imagined him stepping out and looking
toward the night to find Rose herself with her breasts exposed and her back
straight against the door. The thought was exciting and terrifying and her
chest heaved as she drew in air. She waited a moment longer to be sure no one
was coming and secretly wondering what would happen if someone did – maybe
Thomas with his shaft stiffening at the sight of her. Rose felt warm wetness
bead over the folds between her legs inviting her own touch – the only touch
she had ever felt up to that point, at the thought of Thomas’s touch and
command.
She reached out and
fought with the snagged material on the door. It wouldn’t come. She stroked the
edge of the material thinking she might have to rip her ruffled bodice just to
get free. If she did, she would have to flee never seeing the secrets of the
nobles’ ball and possibly never showing her finest dress again. Disappointment
swirled with her dark excitement.
The dress came free
without damage, but the door creaked open a few more spans. The hinges creaked
and popped. Rose’s eyes widened and she looked at the light on the walls for
approaching, angry shadows. The dancer’s steps sounded through the floor and
vibrated up her legs which were already tingling with fear.
As no one came, she
thought about the grease her father used to lubricate
skirts. A proper dress required under skirts and fine undergarments, but she could
afford none, so Rose wore none.
As she smoothed
down her skirts, her hands traced the curves of her backside and the growing
heat between her legs. She felt the urge to lift her skirts again and feel the
master’s close cropped grass on her bare skin. She could touch herself and
bring out the higher thrills as she listened to the music of the royalty.
Rose had now gone
farther than she had dared before. It was by just a few steps and over one
wall, but it was a world beyond where she should rightfully be. Her father had
explained the difference between a palace and the lord’s house. She couldn’t
imagine anything grander than the house towering over her. He had explained
that both were royalty, but not the same. She still did not understand. Both
the distant king and Lord Ramsey held her life and her father’s life in their
hands. They traded them like trinkets and played with them as they wished.
Should she get caught, Lord Ramsey had the right to let fall his full wrath
upon her and her father by proxy.
She knew she should
go back in the same way she knew she should never be there in the first place,
but this was not a night for going back. Before she realized, her feet were
carrying her forward and she was standing in the light of a partially opened
exterior door. It was unguarded and she leaned inside.
***
***
Rose heard the
laughter that was high and shrill like the girls in the woods made. She
swallowed and felt the familiar tingles. She smelled the wax of candles and the
aroma of fine meats cooked in rich sauces. Her mouth watered.
She expected to
hear the music more clearly, but this close it was lost in the footfalls of the
dancers. In the flickering light of the hall, she imagined that the undulating
shadows were the dancers being twirled by the touch of grand lords being
commanded to move and perform under the fingers of the men.
She had to see for
herself.
Rose slipped inside
with her back to the doorframe to avoid disturbing the open door further. Her
breasts had grown over the years to a size that betrayed her stealth this
night. Her dress hung on the wood and pulled down and open in the front. Her
nipples found the air and the night cooled her sweat slicked flesh as her
bosoms spread out in their unexpected freedom. She gasped.
She looked into the
hallway and saw a shadow cross the wall from the grand ballroom at the far end.
From the shape of the legs and frame cast on the wall, she believed it was a
man passing just inside the archway. She imagined him stepping out and looking
toward the night to find Rose herself with her breasts exposed and her back
straight against the door. The thought was exciting and terrifying and her
chest heaved as she drew in air. She waited a moment longer to be sure no one
was coming and secretly wondering what would happen if someone did – maybe
Thomas with his shaft stiffening at the sight of her. Rose felt warm wetness
bead over the folds between her legs inviting her own touch – the only touch
she had ever felt up to that point, at the thought of Thomas’s touch and
command.
She reached out and
fought with the snagged material on the door. It wouldn’t come. She stroked the
edge of the material thinking she might have to rip her ruffled bodice just to
get free. If she did, she would have to flee never seeing the secrets of the
nobles’ ball and possibly never showing her finest dress again. Disappointment
swirled with her dark excitement.
The dress came free
without damage, but the door creaked open a few more spans. The hinges creaked
and popped. Rose’s eyes widened and she looked at the light on the walls for
approaching, angry shadows. The dancer’s steps sounded through the floor and
vibrated up her legs which were already tingling with fear.
As no one came, she
thought about the grease her father used to lubricate
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