A Victorian novel of murder, theft, slavery and seduction that could only be told by Powerone.











A Victorian novel of murder, theft, slavery and seduction that could only be told by Powerone.

In Victorian England, two women find themselves helpless in the hands of two unscrupulous men that have no moral compass. Murder, theft, slavery and seduction, the men are devious and unrepentant. They’ll do anything to get what they want. Emily and her twin sister Celia find themselves unprepared for the real world. Sheltered and innocent in the ways of men, they are ill equipped to fend off the unwelcome advances of the two men that are destined to take their monies and their futures for their own pleasure. Or are they?

Lady Celia is the more adventurous and flamboyant of the twins. Lady Celia must submit to a scandalous and humiliating medical exam and then is thrust off to the auction block that will seal her fate. Shamefully displayed for all to see, she’s quickly sold and sent off to Istanbul to become the birthday present for a nobleman’s son, Wiley. He’s shy and innocent, but he quickly learns what brings him pleasure. Without restraint, his pleasures become more perverse, and Lady Celia, whose slave name is now Sinemis, must submit. She finds surprising carnality under the ropes and restraints of Wiley. What will her future be in this strange land under the firm and demanding hand of Wiley?

Lady Emily is shy and reserved. Barrister Noble, the unscrupulous lawyer, submits Emily to a medical examination, shamefully exposed for all to see, probed and touched without restraint. Barrister Nolan sees something in Emily when she willingly submits to him during the exam and is forced to climax while all watch her pleasure. He changes his mind, keeping her instead of selling her like her sister. He takes her to his home in London where she’s trained to serve him in every way. Will Emily find pleasure and happiness under the stern demands of Barrister Nolan?

There’s a surprising twist to this book. Can the women find pleasure in complete submission or will they revolt against their captors and seek out justice from all that had been taken from them? Will the twins be reunited, or will they live their separate lives in ways they never imagined?



Chapter 1
Tragic Events Unfold

“It’s so sad that their parents died just as they’re about to bloom into womanhood,” Lady Swan commented as she stared at Celia and Emily. Both of the twins sobbed hysterically when they passed by the closed caskets of their parents.

“They should’ve never been out that night. The storm was the worst in a decade. I heard their carriage went over the edge at midnight. It took two days before they could climb down the ravine to recover the bodies. By that time, the animals had already taken their toll on the bodies.” Lady Stretton was aghast at the thought of what they looked like in the caskets.

“What will become of the girls?”

“The Hutleys were well-to-do. There’s an uncle that’ll insure that they’re properly cared for until they turn eighteen. He’s brought in a nanny to care for them. Barrister Nolan is taking care of probate. The girls will inherit it all, but they’ll be under the strict eyes of Barrister Nolan. Otherwise, their fortune will be flittered away or the girls will be set upon by handsome scoundrels that will part their money from them.”

“It’s only six months until they turn eighteen. They’ll find beaus quickly. They’re beautiful and wealthy. They’ll both need good men to take care of them.”

The large church was filled. The Hutleys were a fixture of the town for many generations, and the town came out to pay their respects.

“I hated my brother, but he did produce lovely girls,” Brice Hutley said in a low voice to Barrister Raleigh Nolan.

“Yes, but although Celia and Emily look alike, they couldn’t be more different.” Raleigh replied. Raleigh had known the family since the twins were babies. He did legal work for Arlie and was intimately involved in his extensive wealth. “We can discuss the outcome for the girls in my office over a nice brandy after the service.”

Vicar Ezra Marley stood in the pulpit as his large arms swung widely and his loud voice rang out in the congregation. He was a Hell-and-brimstone preacher. A light dusting of silver hair tarnished his black hair, but he was fit with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was unmarried but by choice, not by the design of the church. Many a lady sought out more than the comfort of the church from the vicar. He took that duty as part of his calling. After fifteen years as the vicar, no one questioned his devotion or his honor.

The black carriage pulled by six black horses took Brice, Celia and Emily to the cemetery. Not much was said during the trip. Brice was glad that the girls had stopped sobbing. It was getting on his nerves. He’d be glad when he could leave this town and go home, leaving the girls’ well-being in the hands of the nanny he hired. He knew he picked the correct woman for the job when the girls took an instant dislike to her. Beatrice Merdle was strict and that was her endearing characteristic. It would only be six months until the girls became of age, and he wanted to make sure that nothing happened to them during that time period. He wasn’t absolutely sure if they were both pure and innocent, but he knew enough of his brother that he was confident that was the case. He was sure it was in the case of Emily, but Celia was a bit wild. He wanted them chaste when they became women. That was part of the deal he had with Barrister Nolan.

Finally, the bodies were laid to rest and the ground covered. They got back into the carriage to take them back to the homestead. It was one of the largest houses in the town, fitting of the wealth of the owners. Brice would sell it soon enough and be rid of this bother and be much richer.

“Go inside, Beatrice is waiting for you. I have business to attend to.” Beatrice stood at the door, her lips in a scowl as she waited for them.

“Come inside and get out of those dresses before you rip them,” she nagged them before they could get out of the carriage.

The carriage took out and left a cloud of dust as Brice went back to town and the barrister’s office. His carriage was parked outside and the black carriage dropped him off and went back to the funeral home. He went into the office, and Raleigh had a brandy ready for him with a box of his favorite cigars on the table.

“That went well,” Raleigh said as they sipped the brandy.

“Yes, Vicar Marley gave a rousing send off. Was there any problems with the constable?” So far, everything went off without a hitch.

“No, the constable took the donation for his campaign without as much as a question and ruled the deaths as accidents. The bodies were too disfigured by animals to do anything otherwise.” Raleigh had been the barrister here for twenty years. He knew his way around all the public officials and also the non-public ones. His practice had proved to be lucrative because of these connections.

Brice lit the cigar, and the blue smoke curled upwards. The office smelled of old wood, leather and cigars. It was a man’s office. “When will probate take place?” Brice was eager for Raleigh to be made administrator of the estate by the court and then Brice could get his hands on the money.

“It’ll be two weeks before the first hearing. I need to get an inventory done to submit to the court. After that, it shouldn’t take too long unless some long-lost relative is unearthed.”

“I’ll take care of any other descendant that might pop out of the woodwork. I’ll use the same men as before.” Brice had hired two scoundrels to make sure that Arlie and Edith had an accident. They’d proved themselves to be capable. They found just the right time to do it to make it look like an accident. They were worth the money he paid them.

“Yes, very capable men. I might use them for another endeavor I’m working on in Newcastle. Good men like that are difficult to find.” That endeavor could be more money than this one, but this one was less about money. “When the girls become of age, they’ll leave the town and you can sell the house and land. I’ll tell anyone that asks that the girls decided to go to London to live. It was too difficult to stay here with all the bad memories of their parents still fresh in their minds.”

“And you’ll take care of the girls. They’ll be gone and never seen again?” That was the only loose end of the deal. Brice would’ve rather the girls met a similar fate that their parents met, but Raleigh was adamant. He wanted the girls. Brice couldn’t find fault his decision. The girls were both beautiful and innocent. If they weren’t related to him, he’d have the same intentions that Raleigh had.

“Yes, I’ll take care of that. I’ll get some pleasure from them, but then, I’ll turn them over to others that know the finer details of selling young women to men that have wicked and depraved ways.” Raleigh had a long list of unsavory characters that he could always count on for the most unpleasant and unlawful acts.

Brice knew that Raleigh would get a handsome sum selling the girls, but that was part of the deal. Raleigh took less of the inheritance in exchange for the girls. It was a win-win for both of them. “Beatrice will keep them in line for the six months they’ll live here. I’ll be back for their eighteenth birthday. I’ll have a grand affair for all to see. That’s all the townsfolk will remember of them once they are gone. I’m off to London tomorrow. I’ve had enough family life for a long time.”

“I’ll contact you if there are any problems, but I don’t expect anything.” They talked for another hour before Brice left. Brice went back to the house. The girls were already in bed and Beatrice stood guard. He left the next morning after breakfast.

* * * *

It was a week before the girls could put the death of their parents from their every thought. They stayed in the house, unable to go outside. Beatrice forbade it. Celia hated Beatrice more than Emily did.

“She’s such a bitch,” Celia exclaimed too loud for Emily’s comfort, for she feared Beatrice would hear it.

“Sssshh, she’ll hear you.” Emily was always the levelheaded one while Celia was always flamboyant and unpredictable.

“She looks like a witch.” Celia could understand why Beatrice never married. No self-respecting man would ever look at her, never mind marry her. Her black hair was straight and stringy. It looked like she had it cut with gardening shears. Celia never saw a smile on her face, always a sneer. It was as though her lips were curled down permanently from an affliction. Her body was dumpy, with oversized breasts that would spill out of her bodice and hang down to the floor like udders. Her ass was plump and sagging. She shuffled around on slippers so that she could sneak up on them anytime. Her fashion sense was a shabby dress that tried to hide all her deformities.

“She’s not that bad,” although Emily couldn’t deny that, after their mother, Beatrice was a big letdown. Their mother was a fine-looking woman and no one ever suspected that she had two daughters that were almost eighteen. Both girls got the honey-colored hair from their mother, soft and luxurious, although it did require nightly brushing to keep it that way.

“I hope we can last six months without killing her,” Celia exclaimed. The last week and a half was bad enough, six months sounded unbearable. They were forbidden to go outside the house without permission, and Beatrice already stated bluntly that they’d not be dating any beaus until they turn eighteen. No way was that going to happen, at least not for Celia. Maybe Emily could wait, but not Celia. She had too many suitors interested in her. Boys were so predictable, and their eyes would stray with such ease. They’d find someone else in six months.

Emily was still scared of boys, not like her sister. They might be twins, but Emily didn’t have the confidence or the daring that Celia had. She liked it that way. Celia always ended up in trouble. They might be twins, but they weren’t identical twins, not even in looks. They looked similar, but Celia had this look about her most everyone saw except for Emily. They instantly knew Celia from Emily. Emily never understood it and couldn’t explain or describe it. That infuriated her to no end. “If you kill her, you’ll never be free,” Emily stated defiantly.

“I know that,” Celia retorted. Emily took everything literally. Sometimes her sister exasperated her.

* * * *

Every able-bodied man in the town knew of the sisters. It didn’t matter how old they were, but it was the young beaus or the scoundrels that were the most interested. Their honey-blonde hair was a magnet, but once the men got closer and saw their luscious bodies, they were hooked. The sisters looked as though they were groomed hourly, their porcelain skin was flawless, and their pink lips were inviting. They both wore dresses that were cut low to accent their bosom, with a gold cross always nestled between the twin peaks to draw a man’s eyes. From behind, a man’s eyes were drawn to their perfectly shaped derrieres that swayed hypnotically when they walked.

Their parents were always around to keep the men away, but since their death, it grew worse. The nanny was relentless and never left them alone for a

* * * *

Emily was content to stay locked up in the house but not Celia. It was six months now since their parents passed away and another month sounded like an eternity. They’d both turned eighteen, but Uncle Brice postponed their party for a month due to his business plans. Celia didn’t know how she lasted this long. She didn’t let her fingers stray between her thighs at night. She was sure that Beatrice stood guard outside the door and would barge in at the most inopportune time.

Celia planned it for a month now. It took that long to get a message out and a return message without Beatrice or Emily finding out. Emily would’ve tried to dissuade her if she knew. Miller Allerton was Celia’s secret beau. He was the traditional cad that would do anything to seduce a woman, but Celia couldn’t stay away from him. Her parents would’ve been aghast if they knew of him, but Celia had many secrets that no one knew. She might marry a prosperous, handsome man, but she sought out the bad boys now. She was of legal age of consent, and she wanted to experience some of what she’d missed. She couldn’t wait another month.

Celia knew that Beatrice guarded the house at night, suspecting that would be when they’d try something. So, Celia arranged to meet Miller in the outskirts of the woods nearby at two in the afternoon. Lunch would be done and it was too early for dinner, so Beatrice might be caught off guard.

Celia knew how dangerous Miller was, but she still wore a thin dress that covered her legs to her ankles, but it was drawn tight across her womanly hips and firm buttocks. She had to restrain her ample bosom to keep it from being too overly exposed. She’d have a hard time explaining her breasts hanging freely if she was caught or Beatrice saw her. She told Emily she was going to her room to read and take a nap, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. It had been a boring six months in the house with nothing else to do. They spent most of their time in their rooms, away from Beatrice and her prying eyes.

Celia’s room was on the second floor, but outside her window was the roof and not more than ten feet away was a trellis, but it was autumn so the vines were bare. Celia had checked it when she was outside to make sure it was sturdy. She didn’t want to fall to the ground before she could leave.

Celia took long minutes to open the squeaky window as if it was an alarm set by the diabolical Beatrice. The afternoon breeze came into the room, slightly nippy, but it was too late for Celia to change her clothes. She wore slippers on her feet so she could traverse the old roof without falling. The roof was slippery, but she managed to make it to the trellis. She held her breath when her foot touched the first rung on the trellis and she prayed it would hold. She began to go down the trellis, each step made her more confident that it would hold her, but she was still glad to get her feet on solid ground. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then ran for the edge of the woods. It didn’t take long to reach the safety of the woods as the brush was overgrown since her parent’s death. No one took care of the outside maintenance any longer.

She was out of breath by the time she hid behind the trunk of a large oak. The ground beneath it was littered with brightly covered leaves. She saw Miller not far off, waiting for her.

Miller couldn’t believe his good luck with Celia. He was four years older than her, but he cared little for the age difference. She had a body that he was drawn to. Miller had his pick of many women. Who could avoid his charm? He had broad shoulders and a muscular chest that women loved to rest their head on after he gave them their pleasure. His brown eyes penetrated deeply, but it was his stout cock that gave him his reputation. That and he knew how to pleasure a woman. Celia was an ideal candidate for him, virgin he was sure, but she craved the pleasure that he could give her. He thought himself lucky to meet with her that day. Since her parents death she was held captive in her house by a cruel nanny intent on keeping them apart. It had been six long months. He caught sight of her not far off. He waved to her, and she began to run toward him. He looked around, not a soul was in sight. The trees were barren of their leaves, leaving little shelter from the prying eyes of anyone that might come into the woods. Miller hoped for privacy long enough to get his pleasure and show Celia the pleasures he could give her. He watched as she ran toward him, his eyes glued to her heaving breasts.

Her heart raced, but it wasn’t just from the running. She ran into Miller’s arms and felt his body pressed up against hers, the warmth between her legs instantaneous.

Her breasts pushed into his chest, and her rapid breathing made them rise and fall. He could feel that her breasts were encumbered by only her dress and shift. The moment their bodies touched, her nipples hardened against his chest. He responded in a similar fashion as his cock hardened to iron.

It was as if their bodies were one, meshed together in perfect harmony. She felt the hardness of his prick between her legs. She was sure that it moved, proud that she could inspire that in him. The wetness between her legs was instantaneous, as if it were her fingers that drew out her arousal. He finally broke their embrace, but he only pulled back slightly. His large, powerful hand was gentle as he tenderly pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. She watched as his lips moved to touch hers in a soft embrace. She pushed her lips harder into his, wanting to feel the kiss deeper. His hand curled into her golden locks of hair and held her head as his lips tormented her. His other hand was around her waist, and it drew her tighter against him. His hips moved as he ground his prick against her pussy.

Her lips trembled against his. “Are you frightened of me or of yourself?” he teased her.

“Neither,” she lied. He kissed her again, but this time, he was more demanding. His tongue pushed into her mouth. Her body went limp in his arms to surrender to the pleasure that shot through every fiber of her being. She gave into him completely. The last six months were sheer torture, denied any pleasure of his company or of her hand between her legs.

“AAAAHHHH!” He took her by surprise when his hand slid from her hair to her breast. He’d pulled back away from her just enough so his hand could engulf her breast. She never felt anything like it before. Prior to this, they’d only kissed when they managed to get a few moments alone but nothing like this. Her nipples swelled up so big that she thought the tips would explode with her pounding blood. His hand gripped one of her breasts and squeezed it. She arched her back to push her breasts into his exploring hand. His lips touched her neck to send shivers through her body. She tilted her head in complete surrender like a trapped animal, exposing her vulnerable neck to her predator.

His cock jumped excitedly in his pants as his fingers sought out the hardened tips of her breasts. He squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger as they grew harder and bigger under his attention.

She felt his prick against her virgin pussy with only her thin dress and his pants that separated them. She couldn’t deny him as her lower body squirmed against him. She spread her legs slightly, but that was all that was needed for his big prick to find her pussy lips and push in. Her pussy was soaked in anticipation. Then, she felt his hips move away, leaving her unfulfilled. But, his hand slid down as she waited with bated breath for him to touch her pussy. She was disappointed when she realized what he was doing. He was undoing the buttons on his pants. He was going to take his prick out. She bit her lips in fear and anticipation.

Celia looked down as he fumbled with his pants until he unleashed the thick flesh of his prick. She’d never seen a grown man’s prick when it was erect. It stood out like the trunk of one of the many trees around her. Her pussy went into spasms of uncontrollable pleasure. His prick jutted out at attention, but it bounced slightly up and down. She knew she caused him to be this way. He pulled back from her so she could see it fully.

As she stared at his cock, he took his belt out of his pants. He did it so fast that Celia didn’t know what happened until it was too late. He wrapped it around her belly and then he went behind her and buckled the belt behind the slim trunk of the tree. When he stood in front of her, his cock wouldn’t stay still. He’d pinned her body to the tree, but her hands were free.

“What did you do?” She felt the belt tight around her waist, and she couldn’t move away from the tree. Her hands were free, but she never felt as helpless as she did now. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she was more aroused by that fact.

“I don’t want you moving away, but I do want your hands free. Would you like to touch my cock?” He made it bounce.

Her lips were so dry that she couldn’t say a thing, but she nodded her head in surrender. He moved closer, and her hand opened up until she felt his prick touch it. The minute it did, it jumped excitedly, as if she did something wrong. His prick was hot and hard. She didn’t know how it could be that hard. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Doesn’t it like my touch?” she asked as if his prick would answer.

“It loves your touch too much, Celia. Circle my cock with your fingers and explore it, but make sure that you grip it tightly so it can’t escape.” He held his breath until he felt her fingers try to encircle the girth of his cock.

She could barely get her fingers around the thick shaft. The head was smooth but a deep red with a thick flange beneath it. The shaft had loose skin on it but was also covered with thick veins that ran up it like vines on a tree trunk. Her fingertip ran beneath the thick flange, and then, she noticed the drop of fluid that sparkled in the midday sun. She held his prick tight as the muscles in it strained to be free. She couldn’t believe the way it moved beneath her touch. “Can you move it like an arm or finger?”

“No, but I can make it throb and jump like this.” He flexed his cock, but her fingers gripped the shaft tighter.

Celia didn’t want to lose her grip on his manhood. His prick danced in her fingers.

“Stroke it with your fingers, Celia. Move your hand up and down, but don’t release it. Feel the skin slide back and forth.” Miller looked down as her hand started to move, and he couldn’t control the drops of precum that her fingers had induced him to release. She might not have ever done this before, but her hand was a natural. Not only did she stroke his cock, but her fingers also explored every inch of the shaft as if she wanted to paint a picture of it in her head.

Celia saw more drops on the head and that inspired her. She took broad strokes up and down the shaft, the loose skin pulled by her tight fingers. Then, she ran her fingers up higher as she explored the helmet on his prick. The minute her fingers touched the thick flange, more drops leaked out profusely. Her other hand reached down to hold the shaft and stroke it as she pinched the helmet of his prick with his thumb and forefinger. Her fingers nervously ran over the smooth head as they neared the hole in the tip and the wetness that she’d drawn from him. She was surprised that his crème was so hot and thick. It stuck to her fingers, yet it slid easily beneath her touch as she wiped it over the helmet of his prick. She teased at the hole in the tip with her fingertip, and she was rewarded with more of his juices; this time, it spurted out. “Did I make you cum?” Celia was nervous that she aroused him to climax so easily.

“No, keep it up, Celia.” Miller knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It was time for him to explore her body. His hands moved to her breasts, but he clenched them briefly before he began to open the pearl buttons on her dress. “Don’t stop,” he ordered her in a demanding voice when she released his cock to fend off his hands.

He scared her. Her hands stopped moving to defend herself and one hand went back down to grip his prick once again in submission. She looked down as his fingers expertly opened the row of buttons on her dress to the waist. He pushed it aside, and she was clad only in the thin shift. His hands went up, but they were harsh as they grabbed the bodice of her shift and ripped it. Celia turned red as her breasts were freed and they spilled out into his waiting hands. His fingers teased at her hardened nipples, but he gripped them tighter and twisted them. She didn’t dare stop stroking his prick as her hand slid up and down the growing shaft. How could he get any bigger or harder? She never felt her breasts like this before. They grew hot from his touch, and she cried out when his head leaned over. The next thing she felt was wet lips touch her nipple, and then with powerful suction, her nipple was drawn deep into his mouth. She felt his stubble rub her soft skin harshly, but it was pleasure she felt, not pain. His tongue began to lash across her swollen nipple, not softly, but it rasped across it. Her nipples were so sensitive. Between her legs, she was drenched. If only she could touch herself.

She stroked his cock faster as he suckled her breasts. He went from one nipple to the other, but his free hand always teased at the neglected nipple to pinch and twist it. It was time to move on and show her the pleasure he could give her in return. His hands deserted her breasts but moved lower.

His hands brushed her hand that stroked his prick, but it continued to move lower. Her nipples swelled from the cool breeze on the wet tips. His hands went to her dress, and she felt him grab it in his fingers and raise it up her legs. She tried to escape. This had gone too far, but she found her body bound helplessly to the tree. When she tried to pull away, the belt grew so tight across her belly that she couldn’t take in a deep breath. Her body shuddered, not in pleasure but in excitement at being bound and unable to defend herself. “No, don’t, please, I’m innocent, no,” she begged, yet her hand never stopped stroking his prick. She cradled it in her hand as she stroked it.

“I’ll not take your innocence, but I’ll show you the pleasure you can receive.” He yanked her dress up along with her shift. She wore silk bloomers, but his hand slipped inside. The fragile garment couldn’t stand the pressure as his large hand stretched the fabric until it tore. His fingers pushed deeper inside, and they slid over the fine hairs of her bush, but it was her pussy lips that he sought.

He ripped her bloomers, but his fingers were gentle as he teased her pussy lips, just as her fingers had done. He spread her lips open, and then, she felt a calloused finger slide between them and rub the soft, wet inner lips. She couldn’t stop the flood of juices his fingers provoked. He knew his way around a woman as the tip of a finger sought out her pleasure button. He found it expertly, and she cried out when the finger rubbed over her swelling button. All of her senses were drawn to that very spot. She whimpered in pleasure.

His finger ran over her pleasure button once again. “Do you want me to make you climax, Celia?” His fingertip rubbed the very tip of her button once again to entice her.

“Yes, yes,” she cried out.

“Yes what, Celia. What do you want me to do?” He wanted her to beg for it.

She struggled against the belt that held her pinned to the tree to make her feel how powerless she was. “Make me cum,” she whimpered in surrender.

“Stroke my cock. When I cum, I want you to cum with me?” He felt her hand stroke his cock faster. Fingers curled over the head and rubbed the tip to extract more of his leaking cum. Then, she ran a fingernail over the thick ridge, not sure if on purpose or by accident, but it provoked another spurt of precum. “Grab my balls. That’s where my cum is.”

Her other hand slipped inside his pants and shoved down hard until her fingers went through the wiry pubic hairs and found his ball sack. The skin felt wrinkled, but then, her fingers felt his balls roll around inside. She sought them out, elusive as they tried to escape her grasp, but she was eager to capture them. She needed to cum and cum soon. She didn’t know if she could wait until he did, so she had to do everything she could to make him cum.

He teased a finger around her virginal opening, but he didn’t dare take her innocence. He struggled not to cum, but as soon as her fingers gripped his balls, he had no choice. His body went rigid as every muscle tightened in anticipation. “Now, Celia, now cum with me.”

He pinched her pleasure button and that was all that was needed. The minute her hand was blanketed in his thick crème, she came explosively. She never felt anything like it as her body shook. Her nipples felt as though they’d exploded, but it was her pussy that gushed her juices all over his hand just as he did with her. Her fingers milked his balls. She clenched on them but softly. She knew a man’s balls were sensitive. She looked down to watch as his prick ejected thick white crème. It went all over her hand, but it also landed on her dress. She didn’t know it would shoot out with such power or would be so profuse. Her hand continued to stroke his prick, easier now as her fingers slid easily on his juices. Three, four times he shot out before she felt his prick lose some of its greatness. She continued to stroke it but with less urgently to ring out a few more drops of cum from it. His hand between her legs stayed there, but it no longer moved. Her body shuddered one last time. Her legs felt as though they were limp, thankful for the belt that held her pinned to the tree, otherwise she would’ve fallen to the ground.

Miller undid the belt around her waist. He put it back on as he put his cock back into his pants. He watched her as she tried to get dressed again, but he made it difficult in his haste to uncover her. Her shift was torn, but he couldn’t tell when she buttoned up her dress. But her nipples gave her away, still hard beneath the thin dress. She pulled up her bloomers and her dress slipped down to cover her legs. She looked almost presentable except for the flush on her skin. It was the flush of a woman that had gotten her pleasure.

They talked for a few minutes, but Celia had to get home before Beatrice found out she was missing. It was awkward now that both of them had their pleasure. “I’ll see you at my coming-out party that my uncle is giving Emily and me next month. It’s going to be a masquerade party.”

“I can’t wait. Then, we’ll be rid of your uncle and your nanny.” He thought he might marry her now that she’d be wealthy. It was time to settle down with money.

Celia managed to get back into her room without being caught. She hid her dress and shift. She’d destroy it when she had the opportunity. She took one last look at the dress. Her fingers strayed over the wet spot where Miller had cum on her. She ran her fingers over the spot then drew her fingers to her lips. She licked her fingers and grimaced at the taste. It was thick and salty, very unpleasant, yet she didn’t pull her fingers from her mouth until they glistened with her spit.

Chapter 2
Masquerade Party

Raleigh began to get ready for the girls’ masquerade ball. It would be an elaborate affair, not only for the twins to celebrate their coming of age, but it would also put them on display for those that might want to entertain offers for the twins’ services. London had an expansive dark market for eligible women where Raleigh hoped to fetch a good price for both of them, although he did have a fancy for Emily. Emily was more innocent than Celia, he was sure. Celia was outspoken and adventurous, not sure how innocent she was in spite of keeping her locked up for seven months. After the ball, he would ascertain their innocence when he took both of them to London.

Raleigh spent a week getting ready for the ball. Luckily, the house was big, but it was still difficult to prepare over fifteen rooms for the guests that would arrive from London. He spent a lot of money furnishing the rooms with new linen. The house began to grow more festive as soon as the flowers arrived and the local merchants began to stock the kitchen with the finest food and wines. He’d spend a grand sum of monies on this ball, but he hoped it would be worth it.

Brice returned from London for the ball, but he looked around the house as a businessman would to try to ascertain its worth so he could sell it at a high price. His guests were added to the list, men with the wealth to acquire the house and land as well as the businesses that his brother had acquired over the years. Brice wanted to be rid of the assets and the twins quickly so he could leave and live the luxurious life that he was entitled to. He knew of Raleigh’s intention with the twins, so he thought of leaving London in case something went bad. He could live a fine life in New Delhi, India. There was a strong presence of Englishmen that believed in the same values he did. The Indians were a submissive race that the English could control. Indian women and men were cheap and plentiful for the most perverse demands of male and female alike. He didn’t know if he could stand such a place though. It was a strange and dirty place to live. He could go to the continent, maybe France where respectable people lived a good life. The French were more forgiving to the perverse pleasures of life.

The house was finally filled with people, a vast staff of servants and cleaning women to get the house ready for the ball. Even Beatrice had a difficult time keeping the twins under control with all the confusion around them.

Emily and Celia were in high spirits. The death of their parents was behind them, and with the ball, their future as women were in front of them. As soon as the ball was over, they’d be free of Uncle Brice and Barrister Nolan, they naively thought. The house had come alive, no longer the jail that kept them chained inside for seven months.

Beatrice had allowed them into the town to have the grandest gowns made to their specifications. Uncle Brice had insisted they looked their best. As twins, they debated wearing the same clothes but, instead, decided to wear the same dress but in different colors so that they would be easily distinguished from the other. The dresses were made out of the finest silk, spun with threads of gold. The bodice was daring, in spite of Emily’s discord. Each of them would wear a diamond-encrusted gold cross that would hang delicately in their ivory bosoms. The dresses were cut meticulously to their individual figures to highlight every womanly asset they had. They both barely ate for the last week, as they feared that they’d gain a pound and wouldn’t be able to fit in their dress.

Jacob was the head butler that Raleigh had hired to handle all the details of such a festive occasion. He was precise and unforgiving in the details. Nothing would be put to chance. Every detail had to be planned and executed with meticulous care. It was his reputation that was on the line. He had a capable staff, but he always hovered over them to make sure that nothing was overlooked.

Barrister Nolan was a demanding man, not only in the details, but also in the costs. The ball was expensive. Jacob didn’t know why he spent so much money on it, but he never asked the motivation for his tasks. He was hired to give the finest ball and that is what he’d do.

Raleigh was happy to see the table set for a banquet for the guests that stayed at the house. Jacob had three chefs to prepare the elaborate meals for the guests’ one-night stay. He looked at the grand ballroom and was pleased with the decorations. There were garlands of fresh flowers throughout. The musicians were already set up and practicing. He could see nothing to dissuade him of Jacob’s abilities. He went up to the room he set aside for himself. It was near Brice’s room for convenience once the ball was over and the guest left.

On the bed was his black tailcoat made of the finest cashmere. Next to it laid the starched, white shirt and the black cashmere waistcoat with a V opening. His black pants were stretched out to prevent the slightest wrinkle. His black boots were highly polished. His black silk socks, the white cravat and the white gloves made of kid leather were laid out like specimens. He’d take a leisurely bath before he dressed for dinner. It was Brice’s responsibility to meet all the arriving guests.

* * * *

Celia felt like an adult now. All the men looked at her, not as a little girl but as a grown woman. She knew many of the gazes were lustful, but she didn’t take offense, not even from the looks of older gentlemen that were married could offend her. She liked being sought out for her magnificent figure. She loved the dress she wore, the finest of all the guests. It clung to her body like a second skin. No man could look away from her generous bosom. The jeweled cross did its job of drawing their eyes, but it was her youthful, full breasts that were revealed so generously that kept their eyes affixed to them. She never had so much attention paid to her. She knew she’d have the pick of any man she desired.

Celia barely ate dinner, sitting aside Uncle Brice with Emily on the other side. She didn’t dare spill a single drop of anything on her dress to mar her beauty. She did sip some wine, the first time she was allowed to have it at dinner. She’d snuck wine from the cellar too many times to count. She enjoyed the feeling of euphoria that swept over her head when she drank it. It made her braver and that was a bad thing for someone that was already adventurous. She spoke to everyone, fearless in her words.

Emily didn’t take to all of it as Celia did. When she looked in the mirror after she dressed, she didn’t recognize the reflection that shot back. It looked like Celia, not Emily. Her breasts were revealed shamelessly, and from the back, her derriere looked so big. Her blonde hair was styled to perfection, her skin groomed with the finest makeup. She looked beautiful, but Emily didn’t feel that way. She agreed to this farce only for Celia’s sake. Celia relished being the center of attention and finally being rid of Beatrice’s unwanted notice. Emily sat next to Uncle Brice, but she hardly knew him, and he seemed to want to keep it that way. The seating was a formality, not for convenience, for he said hardly a word to her since she sat down. She began to eat after she starved herself for a week to get into the dress that was too confining for her now. It was going to be a long night.

Raleigh entered the banquet room fashionably late but few noticed him. He wasn’t up to the caliber of the rest of them. They were all gentlemen of money, and they didn’t make it by working as Raleigh did. Most inherited their money and had men that ran their sprawling empires for them. Yet, he still felt as though he belonged here. Soon, he’d have enough money and his past would be forgotten.

Emily didn’t recognize him when he walked in. It wasn’t until he stood next to her that she recognized him. It was Barrister Nolan, but he looked nothing like he did before. He was dressed eloquently, like the finest of gentlemen. His body was trim and fit in his tuxedo, and he wore a look of confidence on his face. He didn’t look like the old man that she’d met before, although he was no young man. He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back as a welcome change spread through her body.

“You are the most ravishing woman here, Emily.” He bowed before her as he sat down. He gave Brice a courteous nod, but that was all. Their business together would be almost complete by the next day, and he’d leave for London. Raleigh would also leave for London, but he’d take Emily and Celia with him. It was there he’d make his fortune.

“You must say that to all the women. My sister is much more desirable than I am,” Emily always undeserved. She found herself blushing and unable to contain it.

“Nonsense, you’re much more interesting, and you have an air of innocence about you,” he said boldly as she stared at him with a different look in her eyes.

“Innocent I am, but most men desire a more worldly women like Celia. She can wrap a beau around her finger in minutes.” She couldn’t believe she said that to him, professing her innocence in such matters of a man and a woman. That was something that Celia would do.

“Some men might like that, but I must confess that I have a perchance for women that are more submissive to the demands of a man. I find them more willing and eager in comparison to experienced and apathetic.” He looked at her, and the gaze in her eyes made his cock harden in anticipation. His inclinations of Emily might be correct.

“I don’t know of the ways of men, but they frighten me.” She didn’t know why she said these things to him. She’d never spoke this way before to any man, especially to an older man.

“Do they frighten you on what they might do to you, or because you’re frightened that you might find solace and joy in what they might do?” He saw the way she bit her pink lip when he said it.

“I must confess that I’m confused and uncertain.” Her body trembled at the thoughts that raced through her head. She didn’t know why the words flowed out of her mouth without thought.

“You need a good man to show you the ways of the world of pleasure, Emily, an experienced man.”

“I’m of age now. I hope that such a man might find me to his liking.”

“Or mold you into the woman that lay hidden behind that delicate exterior, undiscovered and untrained.” His cock threatened to break free of his new trousers. If only he could take her now and not wait.

Emily had never felt the strange tingling between her legs that she felt now. Celia had told her of the pleasure she got when her fingers strayed between her legs and stroked her center of pleasure, but Emily didn’t indulge in such things. She wanted to be pure in heart and body when she married her husband. It would be her gift to him. “My future husband will do that for me. He’ll guide me in the ways a wife will serve her husband in the bed.” She never expected pleasure, but she’d get her pleasure in her husband receiving his. She’d do all he asked of her.

It was time to change the subject, Raleigh unable to stop the throbbing of his cock. He’d never be able to stand up without revealing his arousal from their conversation. A waiter broke the conversation when he brought over his dinner. “Thank you,” he nodded to the man, thankful for the opportunity. “How is the dinner, Emily? I hope it was to your liking. I tried to make sure that this night would be a night you’d remember.”

“Uncle Brice has seen to that. It’s a very elaborate ball, much more then I’d expected from him. He seems disinterested in us, but it must be difficult for him to have had the burden of us for the last seven months.”

Raleigh wouldn’t contradict her about who was responsible for the ball. It would be too difficult to explain why he did it and not Brice. But, the ball allowed many interested men to see both of them, and Raleigh hoped that would increase the interest when he took them to London and sold them. “Yes, it’s going to be a grand ball. I hope you’ll save a dance for me, Emily.”

“I’d be honored.” She knew that Celia would monopolize most of the eligible men in spite of the fact that they were twins. She was more eager and sexy. Somehow, men saw that in Celia but not in Emily.

The banquet ended in an hour. The musicians signaled the beginning of the ball with a lively tune. Everyone began to go into the ballroom.

“May I escort you, Emily?” Raleigh held out his arm for her. Celia had already walked off, a man on each side of her, both of them young beaus that knew of her upcoming wealth and saw her beauty. They’d all put on their masks. Celia and Emily had white satin masks that covered their eyes and nose, but they were littered with sparkling diamonds. The cuts for the eyes were big enough so that anyone could see the sparkle in their eyes.

“Yes, thank you,” taking his arm as they walked toward the ballroom. It had been a long time since the ballroom had been used. Emily barely recognized it as they walked through the two massive oak doors with gilded doorknobs. The ballroom had been painted a festive white, including the large beams that held up the arched ceiling, making the room look much bigger than it was. Red velvet drapes hung from the floor-to-ceiling windows, but they were drawn back so all could see the breathtaking view from the raised balcony outside. Below the grounds were lit up with a hundred torches. The smell of roses and lily of the valley cascaded through the room. The chandeliers sparkled down on the marble floors, and the walls were covered with red candles that danced in the faint breeze of the night.