A Victorian Tale

A Victorian Tale!

Part Eleven - Blackmail!

After a most pleasant dinner Jennifer settled down with the Professor to read some of his books. He suggested that she needed to understand what antiquarians and archaeologists had learned about the distant past. Jennifer had a vague notion that people lived in caves but the truth seemed more complicated. Caves were indeed used, and the Professor had a wonderful book in which drawings made on cave walls in France were depicted, but the peoples of the time seemed much more migratory. The experts suggested they probably travelled in groups across the landscape, following herds of wild cattle and similar creatures that they could use for food, to make clothes, and fabricate items such as needles, spears and bone harpoons. They did not use caves like our houses, she realised.

She was quickly immersed in a very different world but one that matched her vision when she had touched Tak, the ogre. And, to her astonishment, the Professor said that geologists now believed that the area of ocean known as the North Sea, and the English Channel, were once dry land. They believed that during the great Ice Age water was locked up in glaciers, and the sea level was much lower. The Dogger Bank, an area of shallower water in the North Sea, gave its name to this lost landscape. Doggerland.

"The geologists believe you could walk from France to England across dry land," the Professor said.

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion.

"Come," said the Professor.

"There is a visitor, sir," said James.

"Who is it?" asked the Professor.

"He says he's from the Reading Rooms," replied James.

"Show him in please, James."

Jennifer glanced at the Professor, "I do hope it is not someone come to complain about this afternoon. I was very forward in performing duties, though Imogen approved."

It was not some high official come to chastise the pair for unseemly behavior, or for the unofficial access to a forbidden book, but the lowliest of staff, Milton.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he said to the Professor, without, for one instant, taking his eyes from Jennifer's bosom.

She noticed the stare and admitted to herself that her bosom was getting better on a daily basis. More stareworthy, if that was a proper word. It must be the copulating, she thought, the more I do it the more the ring changes me. It must use the lust from the fornicating to make the change and, I will admit, I have done a great deal of fornicating over the last few days.

"You are not disturbing us," replied the Professor with a wry smile on his face. "We were studying the Palaeolithic period. How can we help you."

Jennifer looked at the lad whose emotions she had stirred so cruelly in an attempt to get him to provide a forbidden book, and she knew exactly what he wanted. But was he about to ask her to walk out with him? A gentle promenade, hand in hand, or something much more raw?

"I have brought the book," Milton said. "It seemed to me that you had great need of it... and.... and... I was hopeful that I might spend some time with Miss Jennifer."

He put the Liber Fey onto the table.

"What do you think, Jennifer?" asked the Professor. "Do you want to spend some time with this, most helpful, lad?"

Jennifer looked at the boy who was her own age, very pleasant to the eye, and who quivered with barely suppressed lust. She felt warm between her thighs and realised she had, unconsciously, licked her lips and lifted her bosom. Her body was ready for an encounter but was her mind? It took only moments to decide.

"I will take Milton to the music room, Professor," she said in a tone that, she hoped, would let her new father know her intent. "I'm sure he has to wait for the book so that he can deliver it safely back to the Reading Rooms. I will endeavour to entertain him for the evening while you study it."

"And I will be in my study," smiled the Professor, picking up the Liber Fey. "I hope you make sweet music together."

On arriving at the music room Jennifer sat at the piano and started to pick out a tune. She wasn't very good at music but it had been part of her education as a lady of her rank, something she was expected to be able to do. Milton, as politeness required, stood by the fireplace and listened. But it was clear he was agitated.

"Come and stand behind me," said Jennifer. "It will support me in my playing."

He did and she knew that, in that position - looking down at her hands on the keys - he would get a good view down her cleavage. Now that was a novelty, she thought, having a cleavage.

She continued to play and his hands moved to rest on her shoulders. She groaned with pleasure and lent her head to one side to rest her cheek on his hand. She missed the D chord and vamped twice with the G.

"You could move them lower," she suggested, as she took the tune down an octave.

Nearby, in his study, the Professor was starting the task of transcribing the Latin into English. He had identified the chapters when he had the book in the Reading Rooms. Now he had to decide which chapter would be most valuable. He could safely leave the chapters that proved the existence of the Fey, he already believed in them. And the chapter about defenses against Fey mischief probably would not tell him more than he knew from previous studies. But the chapter that spoke about the sorceress, her ring, and how to enhance her powers might prove important. He started there.

In the music room Milton had followed Jennifer's suggestion and moved his hands from her shoulders. He pushed his hands under her armpits and grasped both sides of her bosom, pressing her breasts together. The melody faltered as she enjoyed the pressure and Milton smiled as he gazed into her cleavage that was deepening with each time he pressed. But he wanted more.

He pulled away and put his hands back onto Jennifer's shoulders then, to her delight, slid them down her chest until his fingers slipped inside her bodice. He plunged deep until his fingertips ran over her nipples and cupped her breasts. Melody and harmony lost contact with each other, becoming most unharmonious, and she stopped playing to lean back against his body and cover her bodice with her own hands, squeezing his onto her breasts.

They stayed locked together like that for a few minutes, then he yanked her breasts upwards. Jennifer gave a gasp as they were pulled from her bodice and exposed to the warm evening air. Now Milton could caress them more easily and he ran his fingers around their curves and over her nipples.

"Oh yes," she groaned. "That is wonderful."

After a little more caressing she could no longer resist his charms and turned to kiss him, lifting her face to his. The kiss was like a jolt of electricity and they clung to each other. It went on for a suitably long time and she became more and more passionate. Goodness, she thought, no wonder the young girls around her home would happily accept the advances of the young men, this is glorious. Two youthful bodies exploring where their desire takes them.

She found herself desperately clutching at him, running her hands over his taut body, feeling his muscles under his clothes, until they inevitably arrived at his crotch. Here she found a manhood, under layers of cloth, that was striving for its own release. She obliged.

In the study the Professor was reading that the sorceress had two places where they could wear their ring, and the second choice - which seemed inferior - was on the little finger. However, strangely, he could find no indication in the text as to the primary choice. Perhaps later in the book this mystery might be explained. But now he was starting the section on a ritual to release the full power of the sorceress. There was a list of ingredients but the text assumed some knowledge he didn't have, and some of the items had names he did not recognise. This was going to take some time. More than just an evening. And he might need some help from Magdalena.

In the music room Jennifer was having a novel experience. Copulation while balanced on a piano stool. This was very new to her and, she suspected, to Milton as well. She had suggested they retreat to her bedroom but, such was his passion, they got no further than to throw off their clothes and, with Jennifer precariously balanced on the piano stool, they went at it like the proverbial rabbits.

Milton was lacking in sophistication. Jennifer had now pleasured with a lot of men and could tell the more experienced individual. But the lad made up for his lack of experience with youthful energy. And he had a look of pure delight on his face that was very gratifying for Jennifer to see. Sadly he didn't number stamina amongst his qualities. Just as she was beginning to feel those faint warm sensations that she knew would lead to her climax, given time, he made a great moan, pulled out, and squirted his seed onto her hairy sex.

Jennifer found a kerchief and wiped herself down. She could not blame the lad for pulling out, it was one of the methods recommended - she had learned - to avoid a pregnancy. But she had been looking forward to a lot more sex, and to having her own climax. And, even worse, he was now dressing again, which she found most disappointing.

"Oh Jennifer," he said, as he pulled his trousers up. "That was wonderful. You are a beautiful woman."

"Thank you Milton," she replied. "But you didn't have to dress so quickly. Did you not want more... er... time with me?"

"I have to be home for supper," replied Milton. "Mother is expecting me."

"Oh," Jennifer was a trifle upset that he was choosing a meal with his mother over her charms. Were all men like this? A quick fornication and then move on to other pursuits? What would the Vicar have been like? Would he have covered her in bed, spilled his seed in minutes, and then gone to sleep leaving her frustrated in the dark?

She decided to try once more, "Did you not want to see my bedroom?"

She was beginning to be concerned. They had spent less than an hour in the music room and that meant the Professor had been given little time to do his translation.

"I'm sure your room is very nice," replied Milton. "And perhaps I can see it another time. But I really do have to go. But, good news, I've decided to leave the book with you, for a while."

"The book?"

"Yes. I put one of the water damaged books from the deep store onto the shelf in its place in the Forbidden Vault so its absence will not be noted by a gap in the shelves. The Liber Fey has not been examined for more than twenty-five years. It's not a popular item. So, if you let me have it back before the annual stock check in seven months time, then I am confident nobody will ever know that it was missing."

"That is very nice of you," Jennifer smiled at him and gently caressed her breasts, the objects of Milton's desire when he first arrived. He didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, I thought so too," he grinned. "And, provided nobody tells the committee that a tome has been removed from the library, it means I can come back any time and enjoy you. That's right isn't it?"

Jennifer was shocked. The lad was blackmailing her, making a subtle threat to tell the authorities about the Liber Fey unless she submitted to his lust. Presumably he had a story worked out that involved a poor innocent clerk being seduced by a wicked whore into betraying the Reading Rooms. But she was convinced that she and the Professor needed that tome. If she had learned anything from her adventures so far it was that she should take advantage of opportunities, they were placed before her for a reason.

"Yes Milton," she sighed. "You may come back and enjoy me any time you like. Do you want me to suck your manhood before you go?"

She had a faint hope that this might lead to something a little more energetic, and a climax for herself.

"No, I'm fine. Perhaps next time."

Jennifer was quite put out by this. How could a man refuse what was so evidently a great pleasure? He'd touched her so the ring must be working its magic. There was clearly more to the way it worked than she had initially thought. She had believed that any man who touched her must immediately want to lay with her. Either Milton had some sort of defence against the power of the ring, or something else was going on. Perhaps the ring might reveal what, in Milton's mind, was stronger then it. She took his hand, as if to say goodbye, and made sure the ring itself touched his skin.

"What is it that takes you from my bed?" she asked. Not entirely accurate, he wasn't in her bed, but she was sure he would understand what she meant.

"Supper," he replied, then added. "Imogen is coming round to spend the night with me, and I'm hoping my mother will join us as well. I'm looking forward to fucking the both of them, side by side. Their arses in the air and their heads on the pillows!"

His hand flew to his mouth, and his expression was one of shock and alarm, as he revealed his incestuous plans.

"Er... er... that is to say we are planning to share supper together. No more than that, I assure you."

"Are you sure?" Jennifer asked, again stroking the ring across his palm, like a fortune teller trying to read the lines in his hand.

It all poured out. "My father ran away with a younger woman," Milton confessed. "But my mother is a lusty wench and so, when I came of age, and my manhood swelled on the sight of naked flesh, she took me to her bed to perform my father's duties. And now I find I prefer old wrinkled flesh. I can fuck a young woman, as you have just observed, and I'm really good at it. But what I am looking forward to, once supper is over, is spending all night rodgering mother and Imogen. Side by side, on top of each other, and any other way we can imagine."

Milton looked as if he couldn't understand why he had revealed this, but he coped better the second time the words were forced from him. He actually contrived to look proud of his declaration.

"Well have a lovely supper," grinned Jennifer. Now she had something she could blackmail him with, and he knew it. A young man's reputation could be ruined if it was known he fornicated with his own mother.

She saw him to the door and then returned to the study.

"We have the book for seven months, Professor," she explained.

"I thought you might be able to do a deal with him," her mentor replied.

"He might turn up from time to time to pleasure me, but he's not very good. He has no stamina, and is very selfish, looking only to his own pleasure."

"Many men are like that," replied the Professor. "Luckily you do not have to marry him and spend your life with a selfish man."

"How is the work progressing?"

"I am working on the chapter related to sorceresses," he replied. "But there is much to translate. I will take a leave of absence from the Museum for a couple of days and work on it. I'm too tired to continue now."

"I will return to Lucien's studio tomorrow," said Jennifer. "He said he had some Zeus scenes to do with me."

"Those should be interesting," smiled the Professor. "He was a god who, to use the phrase common in the street, 'couldn't keep it in his trousers'."

They spent the rest of the pleasant evening discussing the morals of the Greek gods and then retired to bed. And the Professor, as he promised, did not turn up to claim the rent but let his daughter-to-be sleep.

--o--

There was a visitor first thing. Jennifer wondered if it was Milton turning up to claim some sex but it was the Professor's lawyer. The Professor greeted him, introduced him to Jennifer, then the pair retreated to his study to discuss Jennifer's adoption.

She finished her breakfast and then walked to the studio. Lucien was delighted to see her.

"I thought you might have forgotten our plans for today," he said. "But I had also forgotten that you are a most reliable model. Hazel has arrived, though she seems very agitated this morning."

Jennifer went to find her and to dress for the photographs. Or rather undress. Hazel was there but looking very frightened.

"Are you alright?" asked Jennifer, knowing the sprite was not well.

"I have not been able to sleep since I was fucked by Lord Falterham on that terrible stone," she whimpered. "Every time I close my eyes I can hear their chanting and feel the power of the great standing stone."

"It was strange," admitted Jennifer. "During the ritual I found myself screaming and did not recognise my own voice."

"And I have this feeling that I have lost some of my life, that years have been stolen from me," said Hazel shaking her head. "It is the strangest of sensations."

Do I tell her, Jennifer thought? Do I tell this soul that is almost immortal, that her life span has indeed been reduced? If Sir Rupert was telling the truth? She decided not to say anything about it, in case it made Hazel more upset.

"Let us forget the past," she suggested. "When we have done our work for Lucien perhaps you might come home with me. My bed is large, there's plenty of room, and I could hold you tight and keep you safe while you sleep."

"You would let me into your bed?" said Hazel, disbelievingly. "You know that I am fey, and you would do this?"

"What's wrong with letting a fey into your bed?" Jennifer asked.

"Read your fairy tales," replied Hazel. "Especially the ones where a lonely man takes a fey to be his wife. We are not trustworthy, though I suppose as a sorceress you are not fearful of us."

"You know that I am a sorceress?"

"Oh yes," Hazel replied. "You do not look like one so I wasn't sure at first, but then I felt your power."

"Sir Rupert's servant, Tak, could tell just by looking at me," confessed Jennifer.

"He is very old," replied Hazel. "Older than any fey I have met. And the older we get the more we can feel the occult."

Jennifer wondered just how old Tak might be, and was about to ask Hazel, but it was time to work. Lucien had set up a bed with a strange cloth over it.

"Zeus came to Danae in a shower of gold," he said. "I want you girls to lay on the bed, put one end of the cloth into your... er... fanny. Then look as if you're having the time of your life."

Jennifer went first. The cloth was adorned with hundreds of little brass discs that had been pierced and sewn onto it. And one end was held high above the bed. It did look rather like a shower of gold, even if that must have been a very strange lovemaking. One corner had been left clear of discs and had a large bead sewn onto it. Jennifer guessed that she was to push the bead inside herself to hold the cloth in place between her legs. She did so. The bead was, for a moment, very cold. Then it warmed and she adjusted her position, flung her arms over her head, and opened her mouth in an O of passion.

Lucien took the exposure.

Jennifer studied her body. Her waist was definitely smaller than a few days ago. Her breasts were continuing to grow and were starting to be a significant weight on her chest. Her thighs had become more sensual and rounded, particularly around her hips, and her calves were slimmer and more elegant. And yet Lucien and Hazel made no comment about this most supernatural of changes. It was as if they accepted Jennifer's appearance without question.

Now it was Hazel's turn and Jennifer pulled the cloth, with its bead, from her... fanny. The word was a little coarse but more friendly than vagina, without the implied cruelty of cunt, which she knew some people used. Yes, she thought, I will call it my fanny. As the bead popped out there was a little bit of pleasure and she gasped.

Hazel took up her position under the cloth of coins and pushed the bead into herself with evident glee. Then she lay back and started to caress and rub her prominent clitoris. Jennifer watched and saw that the sprite had techniques that, in their effectiveness, took her by surprise. I must get Hazel to teach me those moves, she thought, she seems to be having a very pleasurable time.