FILLED By The Lusty Lords (Historical Smut With A Side Of Story) by Diana Quippley Page B
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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metal connections. The
lord could use lubricant himself.
She took the moment
avoiding discovery as a sign that she was meant to flee. This was the spirit
world giving her one last chance to leave whole. She knew that is what she
should do, but Rose was not doing what she should this night. She was violating
rules and the order of things. She was a peasant girl standing uninvited in the
doorway of the lord of the land. She was teasing the world of royalty in their
celebration. As they traded her life and body around like a thing that belonged
to their fancy, she was forcing herself onto their world.
She pictured
herself slipping into the ballroom. The lords and ladies would think she was
one of them. They would dance her and spin her not knowing who she was. They
would feed her their fine meats, pushing them past her lips letting their
juices slid down her throat. They would touch and guide her with their hands
like she was their fine lady instead of their dirty, servant girl.
***
***
Rose rejected her
opportunity for escape and salvation. She entered and followed along the wall
in the low light. The air inside was stale and smelled of sweaty bodies. She
imagined the hot skin and musk of the lords and ladies. She pictured them
stolen away to the woods with shafts out and dresses folded above their heads. Rose
licked her lips. She expected the air inside the lord’s palace to be fresher
like outside in the fields when the flowers were blooming wild for spring. The
house had higher ceilings and broader passages than she had seen before and she
expected it to be like the outside trapped within.
Rose peered around
the corner and inhaled. The chandeliers were so high and large that she could
not imagine how the candles were lit around their rim nor how the chains held
them aloft. Tables that seemed larger than the trees if they were turned on end
were lined with meats and casks of wine, but also displays of fruit that she
had never seen in their land. She couldn’t picture how they had come to be here
except on the wings of angels. They were built into artful sculptures on the
tables that were barely touched. They were as beautiful as she imagined they
were delicious.
She wanted to enter
and just feed herself until she was sick. The lords and ladies danced or
reclined around the room drinking and ignored the impossibly grand food.
The dresses were
not of this world. The skirts were as large as palaces themselves as they spun
on what must have been hundreds of skirts. Rose imagined they would have to
wear them forever for all the time it would take them to shed them off. She
began to wonder if that is why Thomas took the peasant girls to the woods
instead.
Their hair was
stacked upon their heads in golden curls that put the fruit sculptures to
shame. Their bodies were pieces of art from head to hem.
Rose sighed and
looked down at her own dress which indignantly showed the womanly curves of her
body instead of the grand curves of the dresses of the noble ladies dancing.
She would not blend in. They would never mistake her for one of them. Her eyes
stung and she felt wildly foolish for ever thinking that she might. She would
never walk among them or taste their fruit. She resolved herself to merely
watch their dancing and spinning from the edge of the archway. That would be
her reward for daring to venture this far.
She ran her fingers
through her long, straight hair and imagined what the sculpted stack on her
head would feel like.
Someone grabbed her
by her hair from behind and pulled her backward away from the arch. She was
bent backward to stare up at the angry face of a man in a powdered wig. She
felt her breasts bunch up near the top of her dress as she moaned from the
awkward angle of her body.
He growled. “What
are you doing here?”
“I’m lost. I will
leave.”
“You lost yourself
over a wall and closed gate?”
He pulled her along
past the arch and
lord could use lubricant himself.
She took the moment
avoiding discovery as a sign that she was meant to flee. This was the spirit
world giving her one last chance to leave whole. She knew that is what she
should do, but Rose was not doing what she should this night. She was violating
rules and the order of things. She was a peasant girl standing uninvited in the
doorway of the lord of the land. She was teasing the world of royalty in their
celebration. As they traded her life and body around like a thing that belonged
to their fancy, she was forcing herself onto their world.
She pictured
herself slipping into the ballroom. The lords and ladies would think she was
one of them. They would dance her and spin her not knowing who she was. They
would feed her their fine meats, pushing them past her lips letting their
juices slid down her throat. They would touch and guide her with their hands
like she was their fine lady instead of their dirty, servant girl.
***
***
Rose rejected her
opportunity for escape and salvation. She entered and followed along the wall
in the low light. The air inside was stale and smelled of sweaty bodies. She
imagined the hot skin and musk of the lords and ladies. She pictured them
stolen away to the woods with shafts out and dresses folded above their heads. Rose
licked her lips. She expected the air inside the lord’s palace to be fresher
like outside in the fields when the flowers were blooming wild for spring. The
house had higher ceilings and broader passages than she had seen before and she
expected it to be like the outside trapped within.
Rose peered around
the corner and inhaled. The chandeliers were so high and large that she could
not imagine how the candles were lit around their rim nor how the chains held
them aloft. Tables that seemed larger than the trees if they were turned on end
were lined with meats and casks of wine, but also displays of fruit that she
had never seen in their land. She couldn’t picture how they had come to be here
except on the wings of angels. They were built into artful sculptures on the
tables that were barely touched. They were as beautiful as she imagined they
were delicious.
She wanted to enter
and just feed herself until she was sick. The lords and ladies danced or
reclined around the room drinking and ignored the impossibly grand food.
The dresses were
not of this world. The skirts were as large as palaces themselves as they spun
on what must have been hundreds of skirts. Rose imagined they would have to
wear them forever for all the time it would take them to shed them off. She
began to wonder if that is why Thomas took the peasant girls to the woods
instead.
Their hair was
stacked upon their heads in golden curls that put the fruit sculptures to
shame. Their bodies were pieces of art from head to hem.
Rose sighed and
looked down at her own dress which indignantly showed the womanly curves of her
body instead of the grand curves of the dresses of the noble ladies dancing.
She would not blend in. They would never mistake her for one of them. Her eyes
stung and she felt wildly foolish for ever thinking that she might. She would
never walk among them or taste their fruit. She resolved herself to merely
watch their dancing and spinning from the edge of the archway. That would be
her reward for daring to venture this far.
She ran her fingers
through her long, straight hair and imagined what the sculpted stack on her
head would feel like.
Someone grabbed her
by her hair from behind and pulled her backward away from the arch. She was
bent backward to stare up at the angry face of a man in a powdered wig. She
felt her breasts bunch up near the top of her dress as she moaned from the
awkward angle of her body.
He growled. “What
are you doing here?”
“I’m lost. I will
leave.”
“You lost yourself
over a wall and closed gate?”
He pulled her along
past the arch and
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