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It began as one of those rainy Devon days where one only wished to remain in bed. While the rest of the house snored and stirred, only the servants were up and about …well only the servants and young Harry Cory. He’d been up since half past seven and was already dressed, hoping the rain would subside long enough for him to go out and take a few swipes with the butterfly net or possibly do a bit of shooting with the dogs. It was not to be, however.
The rain poured down with stiff British determination that made bones ache just to look at it and think thoughts of hot meals in bed or more time under the covers. Mummy Nature could be a cruel disappointing bitch when she saw fit to be so. She could also be a bit grey and damp.
Harry lived with his Mummy Edwina his older sister Bethany, or “Bess”, and his Grand Mah-mah, Rebecca, in a rather comfortable house. It was a lovely old home and it was said that for such a nice abode; Edwina must have been somewhat of a levitation artist because the woman had “no visible means of support” to justify where they lived. Truth be told, the house and Mummy’s stipend of income was the result of an “agreement” of sorts.
The agreement had been with Sir William Henry Sedgewick. He was the same Sir William Sedgewick of Cornwall fame by whom Edwina had once been employed; serving as a governess in Sedgewick Manor to the family children following a brief career on the stage as an actress. Mr Sedgewick’s roving eye eventually settled on Edwina and she soon found herself pregnant with Bess. Edwina was let go from the house but despite the fact that she was no longer employed as a governess; she was retained as Mr Sedgewick’s mistress. Her life could not have become more comfortable as a result.
Sir William set her up in the house in Devon, far away from Cornwall with a generous annual stipend. Money was no object to the lecherous old robber baron. Within less than a year of the birth of Bethany, Harry arrived on the scene. Apparently William had gone for another drink from Edwina’s fountain of youth and the resulting hangover was Harry.
As a youngster, Harry knew his father; seeing Sir William often enough at birthdays and holidays but as he grew older, he saw daddy far less and less. This was due in part because the old philanderer was quite busy; both expanding his vast holdings of coal and tin, and expanding his vast number of illegitimate children through his many mistresses, (who more often than not had been employees at Sedgewick Manor).
Edwina was comfortable. She had family nearby, she had money, and a house for as long as she lived. She’d brought her mother, an old German jewess to the home a few years before so as to have her mother near her in her autumn years.
Despite being a mistress she’d quite a number of social connections, (and her reputation had not suffered in the least from the scandal of two children born out of wedlock). It was simply amazing what a bit of money scattered around like hay in a barn could do to get people to hold their tongues. Most of all; the money bought the silence of Edwina, (whose stipend looked like a king’s ransom even among some well-to-do circles)!
Yes, Edwina had it all. Well; if one were to be more precise -she had everything except a man. There layeth the rub, (quite literally so).
This absence of male companionship, shall we say; became increasingly problematic over time for the poor woman. It tormented her with a longing ache and a certain “emptiness”, that was spiritual, physical, and geometrical. A vexing tension whittled away at her nerves and many was the times the eighteen-year-old Harry heard the distressed whisperings and whimpers coming from mummy’s bedroom.
On one occasion as he passed by mummy’s boudoir on the way to the loo the noises coming from inside were considerable indeed. The door was slightly ajar and he crooked his head slightly so as to peer with one eye inside the dim room. He was met with a cold shock.
There was mummy, lying atop her bed; a candle on the dresser next her being the only light in the room. Edwina was naked except for her stockings; her hands down at her sex, rubbing and clawing frantically at her dark thatch-work as she heaved hips up against her own busy fingers. Her breathing was heavy and distressed; almost asthmatic as she hoarsely whispered,
“Oh yes…YES RIGHT THERE! You know how I like it! It is sooo…bad!”
Harry reasoned that she must be asleep; as he saw that both her eyes were screwed tightly shut. They remained closed as she brought her fingers up to her mouth; sucking them clean as if they’d been sweeties from the fair! One hand returned to her sex whilst the other tweaked upon her bubbies; first one, then the other, until both became hard as iron rivets.
Harry thought it best to scurry off to the loo quietly and not wake her. When he returned, he found her door closed. He tip-toed silently past the door but innovia escort as he did, he heard more of mummy’s tortured whimpers and moans. She was obviously having a fitful night’s sleep!
When he returned to his bed, he found he’d another problem more urgent than any trip to the loo. His tadger was stiff as a fine for public intoxication and contributing to the delinquency of a farm animal on a Sunday. He did the foul thing that he always did when troubles of this sort arose. He knew it to be sinful and wrong but he needed to go to sleep and well; he was supremely bothered by the vision of his mother thrashing about on her bed. In the end he took the problem “well in hand” just as always, but all the randy thoughts he’d used in the past paled in comparison to the mental tintype photos stuck in his head of dear Mummy; pawing at her sex in her sleep. He did the shameful act in her honor and fell into a most blissful slumber; careful to keep to the other side of the mattress until things dried!
There were more “incidents” over the next few weeks. This was partially due to Edwina being rather adept at noticing…things. For example; Edwina noticed Harry had grown quite tall, (strapping and robust for a lad his age). She’d noticed his cheekbones; high and handsome like those of his blade of a father. She’s noticed his hair, his smell, and his clear skin. She’d also noticed he was having more and more of those troubling erections; something that she noticed with interest most keen.
She seemed to have the most awful luck at accidently walking into his room when he was changing. She also the bloody longest time putting away whatever it was that happened to be in her hands whenever she came in. Harry wondered why she simply didn’t have the maid put things away later. Mummy was being so terribly odd and intrusive in his honest opinion, (but he kept such sentiments to himself).
In one week she’d managed to barge in on his bath with him in it no less than four times “by accident,” (much to his shock and embarrassment). Although she made plausible excuses to her son, she did so with quite a bit of leering and staring down at things in the soapy depths of the tub. She’d even caught a glimpse of his pego on two occasions and imprinted the images into her mind as if they were stamped into wet clay. Its seems she then retrieved those images late at night in her bedroom, (resulting in more thrashing of her mattress against the bedsprings).
It is important to note that by now Harry didn’t notice any of these disturbing noises made by his tormented mummy in her bedchamber; he was far too busy. His hobbies you see; may have involved butterflies, hunting, and stamp collecting by day, but at night he had a hobby that was altogether separate, (once the lights went out). It seems dear readers, he couldn’t hear Mummy’s vigorous WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! as he was engaged in WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! s of his own creation.
After one bathing “accident” Edwina was so apologetic and embarrassed that she stayed, (and despite his protests, she scrubbed his back and tummy-tum-tum with the brush and soap). She even went so far as to hold a towel for him; helping him to step from the tub at his bath’s conclusion. She dried him off; taking an inordinate amount of time to wander the towel here, there, and everywhere. By the time she was done with the towel; he was as dry as bill before Parliament requesting that sealing wax for all governmental correspondence come from only authorized British suppliers, (and then only from an approved governmental list that had been ratified by a majority of two thirds in both houses)!
Yes… she got quite an eyeful that evening dear readers; she did indeed! She subsequently told him to be a good boy and scamper off to bed as she wished to use the tub herself; not wishing to waste any water. Good frugal woman, that Edwina!
Once she’d heard him step down the hall and subsequently caught the sound of his bedroom door shutting, she called the upstairs maid Meredith; asking for fresh towels. She added that she was not to be disturbed. She did however keep the towel that she’d dried Harry with; taking a good strong whiff of it when Meredith had left.
It would appear that she was greatly affected by Harry’s essence; much in the same way as a tabby cat with a little too much catnip. She let the manly little notes of “Harry scent,” waft up both pipes of her nostrils; allowing them to register upon her brain. Between what she’d both seen and whiffed that evening; the effect upon her senses was quite cumulative!
Once the towels came, she shut the door and locked it from the inside. She then stepped out from her robe and into the water. It was still warm enough for a bath and what’s more…it had the musk of a man lingering in the water and steam.
Like a shark following blood she could smell it; she could smell HIM! It was so horribly wrong what istanbul escort she wished to do, but her body and limbs ached for a bit of release and …he was so …well …THERE. He was so … beautiful! He was so rather on the… “big side” of things and in all the correct places, wasn’t he!
She frigged herself rotten in the water; giving her bubbies and cunny a good hard bothering. At the height of her excitement she brought her hand down from her bee stung teats; poking a naughty little finger into her wicked little bum-hole. Oh she was being soooo wretched tonight; not that she cared! She opened her eyes as her inner wave began to crest and it was then and there she saw something; amidst the steam, the soapy water, and his smell. She caught it out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to its presence.
It floated on the water like a little jelly fish; a bubble above the surface and a trailing snotty tail descending down below. Was it?..OH DEAR IT WAS! He had been doing it here in the tub all this time? No bloody wonder he was always so embarrassed when her head would appear in the doorway!
It drifted to one of her breasts. She scooped the little bit of snotty custard from her bosom; holding it up to the light. This was it; his seed! It was the seed of the young man whom she had borne eighteen winters prior and now he was grown. Oh how her depraved wicked mind turned; just like the lecherous gears on a clock in a Parisian bordello!
She held the little white blob to her nose and sniffed it; detecting a brininess within the bit of protein slime. He smelled like his father… so handsome and powerful. She’d certainly be guilty of all the sins on the calendar for what she would do next.
Yes she was noticing Harry’s development and she also noticed she was still a young woman… but he was her son …her child. She’d borne him! Then again, William hadn’t been by in months, (and then it was only for a few hours). She was thirty-seven… she had needs… and Harry was right bloody there!
She took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and popped the little bit of salted “bollock chowder” into her mouth; letting it dance on her tongue like a little pale oyster before swallowing. He tasted like his father too — salty but not too much so. OH DEAR!
It was then that her last bit of reserve melted like snow on warm bricks. She frigged her cunny and arsehole silly, forcing herself into hard hedonistic crescendo. It was all so wonderfully wrong, but right and wrong no longer mattered; having melted away like candle wax and leaving only her carnal desire. She screamed into a wet wash-rag clenched in her teeth, (so as to muffle her cries of absolute self-abusing joy). She let simply let go and allowed it to all happen, AND HAPPEN IT MOST CERTAINLY DID DEAR READERS!
Afterwards she was calm and tranquil; lying in the bottom of the bath all steam and serenity. The explosion in her body following her torrid self-abuse had given her not only a bit of joyful release, but also a moment of clarity. She decided right then and there in the tub; the time for waiting had ceased!
She’d satisfied several of her bodily itches and needs with certain women of the household staff (as she was a woman of “dual tastes”), but now her appetite for male companionship of the most physical kind could not be ignored! She HAD to act, but she would need help. She tortured her pretty noggin over it in the steaming water.
She rolled the dilemma again and again in her head. How could she make it happen? She didn’t have the wherewithal and the courage to act upon these vile appetites alone. She needed a person of certain experience and equally base disposition to address this matter. Who would be able to…?
Her attention was caught momentarily by the DRIP DRIP DRIP of the wet wash-rag hanging loosely over the edge of the bath. Hanging loosely. Drip… drip… drip. Loosely? Drip…drip. LOOSELY. …LUCY…HELLO WAIT!
…and it was then she knew precisely whom to speak to about this. Tomorrow the post would go out. How convenient!
It was a week and a half after the incident in the tub that we now find our hero Harry; sitting in the parlor, watching the rain as we mentioned earlier in the story. He had his butterfly collection (as well as his bug collection), out; figuring if he couldn’t get out and swipe something from the bushes with his butterfly net or blast something to furry bits with his gun, then he might at least get on with labeling a few specimens. He had his textbooks with their lovely colored pages all out and open upon the floor; his pins for sticking the guts of creepy crawlies at the ready.
Yes, it may seem in stark contrast to what was described earlier, but let us just say; this would possibly be the last vestige of domestic tranquility we will see our hero taking part in, (so I thought I should mention it). The stage was set. kadıköy escort It was a rainy day, he was inside, and his Mummy had brought some wickedly meticulous planning to fruition, (as you soon shall read)!
A few days prior it seems, a guest had arrived at the house; that being his Aunt Lucinda, or “Auntie Lucy.” She was a year older than Edwina and she brought with her Harry’s cousin Mabel, her daughter; who was nineteen and the same age as Harry’s older sister, Bethany. Like Mummy, Auntie Lucy had no husband.
Now, Bess and Mabel seemed to get along famously from the very start; immediately moving to the sitting room and discussing all manner of things that girls their age are want to do, (and that Harry found completely tiresome and boring to a young man of his age). It was not long before he welcomed their absence. He found the conversations of women, tedious at times and he often wondered if they thought at all or if they simply prattled on all day about shoes, and dresses and other nonsense that he simply couldn’t make any sense of.
He did not however escape female conversation completely, (oh no, not all)! Edwina took him by the arm; escorting him along with her sister, Lucinda, to the parlor. There she sat him down and Harry immediately felt the gaze of his aunt upon him as his mother poured tea for her.
Auntie Lucy wasn’t exactly the unfriendly sort, but she was tall and serious, (even when smiling). She had a pleasant enough face, but she had bit of an aura about her that put Harry a bit on edge. She could also be blunt; very judgmental and critical she was.
He’d seen it before; stern schoolmasters with rulers ready to rap him on the knuckles had given him that very same look. Once or twice a particularly judgmental minster had worn the same expression as he lectured Harry sternly on one perceived evil or another. No, Harry was a bit wary of his aunt, (which is why he felt a cold chill up his spine when his mother sat him down and explained in detail, the reason for his Auntie Lucy’s visit).
“A GOVERNESS!” he blurted out, completely aghast and shocked, “OH REALLY MUMMY,are you sure?”
“Oh far more than sure,” said Edwina, “in fact it’s FINAL. I paid your Auntie Lucy a visit last week and convinced her that this summer it would be a grand idea for her to live with us; tutoring you and your sister along with Mabel before you set-off out into the world. It will give you some lovely polish.”
“But Mummy,” Harry protested, “I don’t think I need any polish!”
“HARRY!” came the first icy rebuke from his Aunt Lucy, “Your mother, who is still the lady of this house …has in fact spoken. This is not up for discussion!”
Harry looked down and saw that she tapped a rattan cane in her hand. Her eyes locked on him like some serpent that would gobble him up in one bite if he so much as simply uttered one more word. It was a beastly look upon her face; one that told him he was out of his league. Prudence being stronger than his sense of howling protest; he simply stared defeated at the tips of his shoes uttering,
A meeker “yes” had never escaped his lips until then. He’d no idea what he’d just said yes to. It’s quite possible however, that had he’d known, he would have said “yes,” all the same but with much more enthusiasm and vigor!
Lucinda started the children off with some discussions of mathematics and the sciences the following day. She couldn’t have been more pleased with what she saw. All three students proved quite adept with their level of knowledge; (Auntie Lucy soon deciding on the second day, she should immediately move to discussions of Natural History and the Greek Classics).
She set about having Harry and the girls reading passages from of all things, Oedipus Rex. Harry found it all interesting, yet he wondered still to himself; why all the fuss? Daddy would pull strings surely enough to get him into a proper College and he had achieved high marks in school after all. Was all this really necessary? Oh well, he guessed…Mummy must have just been making sure and had simply not wished for his brains to go to mush sitting on his laurels.
He had noticed something rather odd, however. It happened on the first two days of lessons and then it occurred again on the third day. It seemed his Auntie Lucy had assembled several books for discussion and reading in the drawing room as part of the curriculum. She and her pupils worked the lessons through a good part of the mornings. After lunch however; his Auntie Lucy (along with Mummy and Grand Mah- mah), took the girls out for walks; upon which he was conspicuously left out of the company.
On each occasion, he was merely left alone in the house (but with the dogs to entertain him as he saw fit). The ladies would return form these excursions; quite winded and out of breath, but each of them seeming highly energized and talkative all the same. His mummy and his grandmother in particular were chatty and merry, (an unusual occurrence for his normally dour grandmah-mah). They were to a word, downright affectionate. Very odd, he observed, but then again; who cared really, so long as there were happy ladies about the house and he had free time to himself.
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